#Doctor: Anytime just head to tumblr

[differentnerddiplomatopera]

Stray Gods x Odypen/Odydio/Odydiopen

To Odysseus

You’ve got one big mouth on you, don’t you?

Yet it’s me who’s closing in

Think I like that mouth on you… Won’t you?

So as a Fic…I see this as many ways

These sentiments maybe when:

Odysseus courts Penelope, he smooth talks her, whatever and she says something along the line of this.

Odysseus sweet talking himself out of trouble. Pen witnesses his wit and talks to him after.

Diomedes is annoyed due to Odysseus. Odysseus says something smart. Diomedes responds with “You’ve got one big mouth on you, don’t you?” I like that with them.

Odysseus tries to encourage/annoy Diomedes. Dio isn’t in the mood for it, say’s something like, “I love that pretty voice of yours, you know that, but I need you to shut up right now?” Odysseus is flustered or whatever.

After the Odyssey, the three of them are in bed. And Odysseus is snoring like nobody’s business (ha), Diomedes is so confused how Ody’s snoring is still cute after all this time. Pen tells him to accept it. Ody starts sleep talking, Pen and Dio start responding as if Odysseus is actually talking. (Just being cute together like)

Odysseus: Pennn, you so pretttyyy

Diomedes: Yes, I can concur

Penelope: Don’t have to tell me that, I’m gorgeous.

Diomedes: Humble much?

Odysseus: Dio, you gottsome pretty (voice drops) DEAD (normal voice) eyes

Penelope:

Diomedes: …what the actual fuck?

(Muffled Laughter) Penelope: what-why did his-holy shi-(pen commences to wheeze her ass off)

Diomedes: Am I- am I supposed to be flattered? Or offended-cause could it be my eyes are both pretty and dead looking-

Penelope: (still laughing) nononono you-you gotta say it like he did, DEAD, haHAA-

Diomedes: Or my eyes look pretty-

Penelope: I’m not listening to you unless you say it properly.

Diomedes: Fine, DEAD, cus we could-

Penelope: (eyes tearing up, body shaking, back breaking laugh)

Diomedes: I’m gonna sleep in the guest room.

Penelope: No wait-

Odysseus: getcHO ASS BACK HERE NEOWWWWWW

Diomedes:

Penelope:

Diomedes: is- thefuck- is he still asleep?

Penelope: Yes, but does it really matter? Through sickness and in health and cute insults, get back here.

Diomedes: when you wake up, we are gonna have a talk.

Screaming *Odysseus: (turns his head 180 degrees like owl) I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN TO YOU ABOUT HILL AND HORSE, SHUT YOUR- inhale* EYESSSSSSSSSS

Diomedes:

Penelope:

Diomedes: Nah. Mm no. Troy was fine, this is crap.

Penelope: He said I’m pretty.

headcanon (after the Odyssey, Odysseus sleep talks/walks a lot, sometimes it’s sweet, funny, kinda creepy, other times it’s sad and heart breaking. But they got him. They hug and give Odysseus kisses when he wakes up)

Yeah. Fic writers, please write. Especially since they are planning to take Ao3 down. Why can’t they just leave the good stuff alone 😭🥲

[k0kichiimagines]

oh my God?? theres actually medicine and shit you can do what the fuck no one told me this

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | seven

🐴Chapter summary: Your heart aches and you feel like you see Jimin everywhere you turn, it feels suffocating. When you suddenly get a call from your sister’s doctor saying that she never made it to her appointment, dread fills your bones. 🐴Chapter title: We Got it Wrong 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: car accident and bleeding from a head wound (I’m sorry 😢), OC is just very sad and angry, there’s a lot of angst and stupidity (thanks to the stupid misunderstanding last chapter), lol. It will get better! But not right now 🥲 And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.5k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “We Got it Wrong” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: in true ‘McLeod’s Daughters’ style, we open up for all the angst in this chapter! It was tough to write, and it was hard not to cry at the end. It’s more on the sad side, but the sun will shine again— don’t you worry! ☀️

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Tears for all the damage Tears for all the joy Out in the dark, alone and lost I’ll try not to destroy Any more of what we had Because we got it wrong” - ‘We Got it Wrong’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Despite the persistent yearning for Jimin that echoes in your heart and mind, the refuge you find in your work with the wild horses becomes a haven for forgetting. In their presence, you master the art of maintaining a clear mind and keeping your emotions in check.

Otherwise, the delicate dance of gaining their trust remains elusive, and your efforts to gentle them might as well be in vain.

But sometimes maintaining a clear mind becomes a challenge, especially when the echoes of Jimin’s laughter reverberate from his house.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, catching Yoongi’s attention as he glances your way from his perch on the fence.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Yoongi advises, enveloping you in a comforting sideways hug to emphasize his point.

You pout, your bottom lip jutting out, eyes imploring with a softness, “Easy for you to say.”

You sigh once more, a heavy breath escaping, and a profound sense of deflation washes over you. Is this truly the path your life is destined to take?

“He’ll open up to you in due time,” he reassures, and you can’t help but erupt into a manic chuckle, a blend of frustration and disbelief escaping your lips.

“You can’t be serious. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t uttered a word to me. I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon,” you express with a mix of disbelief and resignation.

Yoongi relents to your sour mood, descending gracefully from the fence with a resigned sigh, his boots meeting the sand with a soft thud.

Putting your lunch away, you gracefully descend, ready to immerse yourself once more in the comforting distraction of work, hoping to reclaim a few precious hours without the weight of Jimin occupying your mind.

As you stroll alongside Yoongi, you make your way back to the stables, anticipation bubbling within you to witness the progress on the chestnut mare he’s been tirelessly dedicating nearly a month to.

The expansive stable beckons, its generous proportions dwarfing yours, illuminated by a pristine, white light that banishes the garish yellow hues of your own barn. The stalls, noticeably more capacious, could easily accommodate two fully grown horses, prompting an eye roll at the absurd fixation on size—typical men.

With a swift yet gentle command, Yoongi effortlessly guides the mare out of her stall, relying solely on his body language and the cadence of his voice, a testament to the unspoken connection he shares with the spirited creature. “Come.”

His ability to command the horse without the need for a halter or rope leaves you in awe, like witnessing a magician performing an extraordinary feat. As he imparts his tricks to you, you’ve ventured to try them yourself with Mikrokosmos, turning the experience into a magical and exhilarating connection between you and the spirited mare.

Yoongi guiding the brown mare alongside you, you exit the expansive stables and make your way back down to the pens, the rhythmic echo of hooves on the stable floor harmonizing with the subtle sounds of nature surrounding you.

Your gaze shifts to Yoongi, a spark of curiosity brightening your eyes, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”

A soft chuckle escapes him as you approach the pen, his hand reaching for the gate, “Holly.”

With the gate ajar, Yoongi ushers Holly into the pen with a deliberate calmness. In the center, she stands like a picture of patience, anticipating his gentle approach.

“That’s a cute name,” you remark, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you savor the sweet sound of the horse’s name.

You gracefully ascend, perching on the fence as if it were your throne, offering an unrivaled view of Yoongi’s equine magic.

“What are you gonna do with Holly today?” You inquire with genuine interest, your eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before you. Yoongi approaches Holly with a gentle touch, his hands navigating the contours of the horse like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, eliciting a contented whinny that adds a musical note to the serene atmosphere.

“I’m going to ride her today,” he declares with unwavering assurance, the timbre of his voice resonating with a mix of competence and excitement. As he applies gentle pressure on Holly’s back, the horse remains still, her tail swaying lazily to ward off an annoying insect.

With a graceful ease, Yoongi begins to mount Holly, his movement akin to an acrobat suspended in mid-air, creating a whimsical and amusing spectacle. He’s not fully astride her yet, more like a playful dance over her back, a sight so unique that it tugs at the corners of your lips, tempting a restrained laugh. It’s a display of horsemanship that you’ve never encountered before, leaving you both entertained and captivated.

Holly maintains her poise as Yoongi gracefully hovers on her back, and then, in a seamless motion, he descends to the sandy ground, his landing executed with a finesse that mirrors the effortless connection he shares with the gentle mare.

He recreates the move, elevating himself further on Holly’s back, until he dangles with his head swaying on the opposite side. Your grin widens, and though you’re tempted to burst into laughter, you restrain yourself, not wanting to disturb Holly’s tranquil demeanor.

He glides down once more, approaches her head, and caresses her with a tender touch. The whole interaction exudes a gentle harmony. Returning to her side, he pulls himself up onto her back, effortlessly swinging his leg over her body, finally settling into a comfortable seat.

You’re tempted to applaud, but you resist, not wanting to startle the horse. Yet, your admiration is palpable. This marks Yoongi’s inaugural ride on Holly, a momentous achievement that leaves you thoroughly impressed!

Yoongi stretches over her withers and strokes her neck affectionately, whispering, “Good girl.”

With a subtle click of his tongue and a gentle nudge of his legs, he guides her into a slow walk around the pen, no saddle, bridle, or halter in sight. 

Color you thoroughly impressed.

You watch in silent awe as he maneuvers around the pen, his presence commanding such tranquility that you’re hesitant to disrupt the serene atmosphere by uttering even a breath.

In a breathtaking display, Holly transitions from a slow trot to a graceful canter, and Yoongi remains a steady figure atop her back. His legs maintain a gentle connection with her sides, while his hands rest calmly on her withers. A moment of pure trust unfolds as he releases his grip, extending his arms outward, allowing Holly to dance freely in circles within the pen.

Yoongi embodies the essence of liberation, and a yearning grows within you to share a similar bond of freedom with Mikrokosmos. His infectious smile meets your gaze as Holly releases a resounding snort, prompting a heartfelt chuckle to escape your lips.

Allowing Holly to race freely, Yoongi skillfully guides her by exerting a gentle pull on her withers, coaxing her spirited gallop into a graceful deceleration, transforming the wild rhythm into a serene and controlled stroll.

The distant rumble of an approaching car draws your attention away from the serene scene in the pen, and you reluctantly shift your gaze towards the source. To your dismay, Jimin’s girlfriend arrives, her car pulling up with an elegance that seems to mirror her captivating allure. Ugh. Why does she have to look that good? And why does she look so familiar?

You scrutinize the unfolding scene, watching with a mix of bitterness and resentment as she gracefully emerges from her car. Jimin, despite his limp, crosses the distance to warmly embrace her. The sight sends a surge of conflicting emotions through you – your heart tightens, your blood simmers, and your hands involuntarily clench, the tension palpable as your teeth grind together in silent frustration.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, an uncontrollable storm raging within. The intensity of your feelings is staggering – a deep-seated resentment towards Deiji, a lingering hatred for Jimin himself, yet paradoxically, a persistent love that refuses to fade. The turbulence within you paints an intricate mosaic of conflicting emotions, leaving you helplessly caught in the tumultuous crosscurrents of your heart.

As Jimin leans in to bestow a chaste kiss upon her cheek, bitterness seeps through your veins, staining your soul with an ominous shade of black. Above you, an unseen tempest brews, dark clouds of despair hanging heavily, casting a shadow over your heart.

Time, instead of healing, has only fueled the flames of pain, hurt, anger, and sadness within you. Over two weeks have passed since the last encounter with Jimin and his girlfriend, yet the agony persists, as raw and piercing as if it were yesterday. Rather than easing, the passage of time seems to stoke the embers, transforming your emotions into a relentless storm of fury and jealousy that intensifies with each passing day.

Suppressing the bitterness welling up within, you shift your focus back to Yoongi and Holly. Dwelling on Jimin, the man who once went out of his way for you, retrieving you from the city, proves too agonizing for your fragile heart. 

The nagging question persists: why won’t he engage in conversation, fight for you, like he did then?

“.... Mikrokosmos?” You snap back to the present, catching the tail end of Yoongi’s question. Offering him an apologetic look, you realize you’ve been lost in your own thoughts, missing every word he carefully uttered.

You pivot to fully engage with Yoongi, deliberately tuning out the sight of the content couple in the background. “I’m sorry, I got lost in my own world. What were you saying?” you inquire with a sheepish smile, noting that Yoongi has dismounted Holly and is now giving her affectionate pats.

Yoongi draws in a breath before repeating himself, his gaze fixed on you. “I asked if you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

With a released breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you offer him a nod. Working on Mikrokosmos is exactly what you need. As you descend from the fence, Yoongi swings open the gate, leading Holly to a paddock where she joins the other horses, letting you both focus on the task at hand.

You stride purposefully into the stables, the familiar scent of hay and warm wood enveloping you as you approach Mikrokosmos, peacefully resting in her stall.

You swing open the stall door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet stable. With a warm smile and a voice that echoes genuine affection, you greet Mikrokosmos, “Hi Kosmos.”

Mikrokosmos ambles over, her velvety nose brushing against your outstretched hand, and she playfully nibbles, almost giving it a gentle lick. Your laughter fills the air as you shift to pat her neck. Stepping back, she follows, and you guide her down to the pen. With a practiced motion, you swing the gate open, and as she steps inside, you secure it, sealing the quiet world between you and the rest of the bustling stable.

Perched atop the fence, Yoongi assumes his vantage point, keenly observing your every move with Mikrokosmos, a silent maestro overseeing a harmonious dance between human and horse.

You guide Mikrokosmos around the pen, allowing her to explore the boundaries with curious sniffs and gentle trots. Positioned in the center, your anticipation grows as you await the elusive connection, the ’join up’ that has eluded you thus far. A subtle worry creeps in, questioning if this profound bond will ever materialize between you and the majestic creature.

“Relax and let her come to you,” Yoongi advises from his perch on the fence, a keen awareness of the frustration simmering within you.

Another sigh escapes you, a gentle release that carries your thoughts through your body and spills out through your fingertips. Surrendering to the moment, you embrace the idea that sometimes losing control is the only way to regain it. With a deliberate clearing of your mind and a slow, calming breath, you reassure yourself that everything will indeed be fine.

You surrender to the quietude, closing your eyes as you inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. 

As you focus on Mikrokosmos with closed eyes, the subtle rustle of something against the fence flares your senses. Internally cursing Yoongi for disrupting your concentration, your heightened hearing captures the gradual crescendo of hoofbeats, a rhythmic melody slowing to a gentle cadence.

The hoofbeats draw nearer, and your heart matches their slow, rhythmic approach. A mysterious sensation caresses your back, creating an anticipation that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

With a resounding whinny, Mikrokosmos echoes her presence against your back, a triumphant melody of connection. Pride surges through you like a victorious anthem. Overwhelmed with joy, you pivot slowly, locking eyes with your equine companion, and tenderly pat her forehead, sealing the bond that has blossomed between you.

As Mikrokosmos revels in her joined connection with you, a swell of pride, you become aware of Yoongi’s gratified grin. Yet, amidst the shared triumph, your eyes catch another figure— Deiji, leaning casually against the fence, her smile mirroring the prideful moment as an unexpected witness to your accomplishment.

“That was amazing!” Her voice practically squeaks with amazement, prompting an eye roll from you.

She glances between you and Yoongi, her voice carrying a sweet and eager tone as she proposes, “I was wondering if I could assist you with the horses?” Despite her happy demeanor, you can’t quite shake off the underlying discomfort you feel in her presence.

You don’t want her help. Refusing her offer with a swift and almost brusque retort, “No.” The refusal spills from your lips with an unintended edge, its abruptness catching even Yoongi off guard. He arches an eyebrow at your firm response, a smirk playing on his lips as he finds amusement in your conviction.

Undeterred by your rejection, Jimin’s girlfriend gracefully accepts your refusal, her smile unwavering. “Okay. Please let me know if I can help you somehow,” she offers, her kindness contrasting with the tension lingering in the air.

With a hint of sarcasm, you snide at her, the forced smile on your face barely concealing the complex emotions within. You nod in acknowledgement, and as she releases her grip on the fence, she retreats gracefully towards the house, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in the air.

You stand firm in your independence, a resolute desire echoing in your mind — you don’t want assistance, especially not from her.

Yoongi gracefully descends from the fence, his presence blending seamlessly with the rhythmic strokes of your hand against Mikrokosmos, creating a moment where time seems to pause, encapsulating the essence of your shared connection with the wild horses.

“Did you really have to be so rude to her?” Yoongi chuckles beside you, his laughter a dissonant melody to the tension in the air, and you can’t help but mutter a few choice words under your breath, realizing the complexity of your emotions.

You pivot towards him, a tempest of frustration swirling in your gaze. “She is the enemy!”

His laughter persists, revealing the expanse of his gums. You exhale sharply. “I can’t have her clouding my thoughts while I’m trying to find solace in my work.”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nah, I get it. You’re just yearning for that Park dick to fill you up,” he teases, winking playfully.

Your face heats up, a crimson blush spreading across your cheeks, and you shoot Yoongi an indignant glare. In a hushed tone, laced with irritation, you hiss, “Yoongi!” — wary not to disturb Mikrokosmos with your sudden outburst.

“Are we going on another epic grocery haul?” you tease with a laugh, watching Ara expertly navigate the car towards town. The anticipation builds as you approach, eager to snatch up all the essentials Jessi has meticulously scribbled down on her ever-growing list.

The town unfolds on the horizon, and a surge of excitement bubbles within you. It’s peculiar how a routine grocery trip can evoke such giddiness. Perhaps it’s the prospect of escaping the looming presence of Jimin and Deiji that adds an unexpected thrill to the mundane task.

So far, you’ve become a master of avoiding the couple. If Jimin harbors no desire for conversation, you find yourself questioning the necessity of extending the courtesy to him or his girlfriend.

Admittedly, you’re toeing the line of childish behavior, but damn it, it’s hard to resist. The complexity of your feelings for Jimin unfolds like a tangled web. While you harbor genuine affection, it feels like your chance slipped away, and he’s unwilling to grant you the opportunity to clarify or even listen. You grasp the sting of being picked last, yet you can’t help but wonder – did you fail to convey your feelings clearly enough for Jimin to comprehend?

Damn it, you wish Yoongi never kissed you. Then this wouldn’t be happening. 

In a moment of exasperation, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Despite the internal mandate to banish thoughts of Jimin from your mind, his presence permeates your thoughts once more, defying your attempts at self-control.

Ara skillfully guides the car into a coveted parking spot near the grocery store carts, strategically positioning you for an efficient grocery haul. The convenience of proximity promises a seamless transfer of bags from store to car, sparing you unnecessary hassle in loading up your supplies.

“I’ll go grab a cart,” you declare, pushing the car door handle. Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin follow suit, emerging from the vehicle with shared anticipation for the shopping expedition.

As your fingers inch toward the cart handle, your attention is abruptly drawn to a familiar figure across the street.

Park Jimin.

Jimin and Deiji share a moment across the street, his whispered words causing her to blush and giggle. Even though their conversation is out of earshot, the infectious sound of her laughter echoes in your mind. With a scuff, you finally grasp the handlebar of the cart, but your attention remains fixed on Jimin.

He seems happy, a devilish smile gracing his lips, and you yearn for that happiness to be aimed in your direction. His fingers play through Deiji’s hair in a seductive dance, and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, restraining a moan you presume, ignites a surge of anger within you. Red dots line your vision as Jimin’s hand trails down to the small of her back, and all you can see is an intense shade of red.

“What’s the holdup?” Soo-ah quips from behind, but met with your silence, she traces the direction of your gaze instead.

“Oh no, sweetheart…” she murmurs, her voice tinged with sadness, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. A stifled sniff escapes you, tears threatening at the edge of your waterline. 

No, crying is the last thing you want to do now. Hold it in.

Your gaze remains fixated on Jimin’s intimate gestures with Deiji, and a suffocating sensation grips your chest. It’s as if the air has grown thin, and a nauseating wave washes over you, threatening to spill an unsettling mix of emotions.

The other girls gather around you, creating a supportive barrier on either side, momentarily diverting your attention from the magnetic presence of Jimin. Their friendship acts as a shield against the emotional turmoil, offering a brief respite from the intense gravitational pull of Jimin’s figure.

“I just don’t understand,” you mumble, your gaze fixated on the ground, a wave of queasiness washing over you. As you lift your eyes, they inadvertently meet Jimin’s across the road in the parking lot. The irresistible brown orbs lock onto yours, causing your breath to hitch, and your body freezes. His expression is a tumultuous mix of anger and spite, a hurtful glare that pierces through you. A small voice in your mind begins to wonder if this spiteful display is born out of pettiness, and the question lingers – would he truly be so petty?

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten their grip on the cart’s handlebar. Will this overwhelming ache ever dissipate, or are you destined to carry this horrible feeling forever?

Soo-ah and the rest of the girls guide you away from the cart station, gently urging you into the store. Everything inside becomes a blurry haze. A strange ringing noise echoes in your ears, its origin unclear. Your heart aches with an intensity you’ve never felt, and you start to question if you’re beginning to get sick.

“Can you manage the rest? I’m not feeling well…” Your voice carries a low, deflated tone, and the sensation of your vision spinning intensifies, leaving you dizzy. The unfamiliar feeling bewilders you. The girls nod, concern evident in their eyes, yet they allow you to leave their company.

You navigate your way out of the grocery store at a deliberate pace, locate the car, unlock it, swing the door open, and plop down in the seat. Leaving the door ajar, you take in the fresh air, hoping it might provide some relief.

Exhaling deeply, you sense your heartbeat gradually slowing down, but a nagging question lingers in your mind. Is illness creeping in, or is it the persistent ache in your chest that intensifies every time Jimin comes into view? The unexplained heaviness remains, leaving you searching for answers amid the uneasy beats of your heart.

As the girls return with a brimming cart full of groceries, you muster a wry smile. Once the car is loaded, they encircle you, offering tender hugs that carry warmth and reassurance, their silent promise echoing that, despite the current storm, everything will eventually find its way to calm waters.

You secure the seat belt, and Ha-rin takes the wheel, steering you homeward. Your head finds a resting place against the window, and you gaze out with a distant stare. The scenery, painted in hues of green, blue, and gentle yellows, unfolds like a soothing watercolor, gradually lulling your weary mind into a momentary state of tranquility.

Against the cool window, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, only to find yourself entangled in dreams where deep brown eyes pierce through you with a spiteful glare, carrying the weight of disappointment. Haunted by strands of blonde hair, your heart clenches, and amidst the fragments of slumber, you grapple with the question of how things went so awry between you and Jimin.

Every time you’re working with the wild horses, the world fades away. Jimin’s laughter, and the image of his overly joyful girlfriend, lose their vividness in the company of these majestic creatures. You don’t understand how a person can be so happy, it’s like a mystery you can’t unravel. Maybe it’s because your own mood mirrors the darkness of obsidian, overshadowing any hint of joy.

Perched atop the fence, your gaze follows Yoongi’s skilled hands at work on Holly. Today’s session involves a saddle on her back and a bridle, and you can’t help but marvel at the seamless harmony between them. Holly responds with grace, a testament to Yoongi’s expertise. In this transformative process, she inches closer to the coveted status of a fully trained stock horse, a journey Yoongi confidently assures you she’s on the brink of completing.

Your eyes trace Yoongi’s every move as he guides Holly in a mesmerizing gallop around the pen. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of calm, an unspoken understanding between rider and horse. Holly’s spirit, once untamed, now dances gracefully under Yoongi’s expert guidance, creating a scene that is both captivating and harmonious.

Yoongi’s question slices through your contemplation, catching you off guard like a sudden gust of wind. “Do you want to go for a ride?” His words, a tempting invitation, hang in the air, coaxing you to escape the confines of your thoughts and embrace the freedom that awaits on horseback.

Your eyes widen as his proposition sinks in, but you respond with a subtle nod, your silent agreement carrying the weight of anticipation.

As Holly gradually slows to a trot and then eases into a lazy walk, Yoongi reveals, “This is the final test for Holly.”

With a thoughtful expression, Yoongi shares his plan to test Holly’s adaptability in the wild. Intrigued, he proposes, “Why not venture out and seek the herd of wild horses again?” 

It might just be the escape you need from this ranch and its owner, who continues to stir uncomfortable feelings within your now delicate heart.

Jumping off the fence with a renewed sense of purpose, you stride towards the gate. As Yoongi gracefully maneuvers Holly out of the pen, you secure the gate behind you. Your journey continues with determined steps, leading you to where Marshmallow patiently awaits, reins neatly fastened to the fence.

You gently release the reins, your fingers caressing Marshmallow’s neck, eliciting a contented whinny. Placing your foot in the stirrup, you effortlessly swing your leg over his sturdy white frame. The moment you settle into the saddle, a profound sense of belonging washes over you, soothing your restless soul. The inexplicable bond between you and horses never fails to astound you, creating a sanctuary of comfort with every ride.

With a tender smile, your heart lightens, and you delicately urge Marshmallow into a trot by applying subtle pressure with your legs. As you follow Yoongi, the rhythmic beat of hooves creates a symphony that resonates with the newfound tranquility within you.

Embarking on a journey over the rolling hills, the grass beneath remains an enchanting green, bathed in the warmth of lingering summer. A gradual canter carries you through the landscape, your thoughts dissipating, leaving space for the soothing breeze to play with your hair, accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of hooves that mirrors the cadence of your own heart.

Lost in the passage of time, the duration of your ride eludes you, the profound silence between you and Yoongi accentuating the harmony of nature. The mountains, standing proud and towering in the distant horizon, seem to extend warm embraces, enveloping you in a sense of belonging to this picturesque landscape.

As you traverse the landscape, the familiarity of the woods, the serene lake where laughter once echoed with Jessi, and the expansive paddocks that seem to stretch endlessly into the horizon become a poignant backdrop to the rhythm of your horse’s hooves.

The wind tousles your hair, and there’s a fleeting sense that, perhaps, everything is gradually finding its way to being alright.

Lost in the vast expanse, you ride on, the anticipation building within you, wondering if today will be another day the wild horses grace you with their presence. The landscape sprawls before you, an unfamiliar tapestry of nature’s secrets waiting to be unveiled.

As you speak, a soft melancholy smile graces your lips, “I don’t think we’ll see them today, Yoongi.” Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the hope that eluded you, a silent acknowledgment that not everything unfolds as desired—recent events serving as a poignant reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.

“I don’t even know where we are,” you sigh, bringing the horses to a gentle trot. Your gaze sweeps across the expansive landscape, a moment of shared uncertainty between you and Yoongi. 

“I know where we are, don’t worry,” Yoongi assures you, confidence lacing his voice as you both come to a full stop before a vast and lush forest. 

You release the reins, allowing Marshmallow to lower his head and graze on the lush grass, while Holly follows suit. Holly’s remarkable behavior on this ride surprises you; her wild and untamed nature seamlessly hidden beneath a calm exterior. If it weren’t for her untamed origins, she could easily pass as a seasoned stock horse, blending effortlessly into the peaceful scenery.

While allowing Marshmallow and Holly to graze peacefully, their heads suddenly snap up, ears perked forward in unison, attuned to a sound that hasn’t yet reached your own ears. Then, like a wave crashing over you, the familiar rhythm of hooves pounding against the earth becomes clear – a wild and untamed symphony echoing through the air.

As the herd of wild horses materializes in the distance, a charismatic dark brown stallion commands the front, orchestrating the untamed ballet of freedom. They present a majestic spectacle, embodying the essence of the wild – eyes reflecting untold stories, a blend of soulful wisdom and mischievous spirit. With a profound exhale, you find yourself immersed in a deep appreciation for these creatures and the untamed nature that surrounds you.

Holly stands poised, her gaze locked onto the passing herd, perhaps recognizing the familiar faces of her once-wild family. Despite the untamed energy coursing through the herd, she remains steadfast, mirroring your own stance, both of you immersed in silent observation.

The sight of the wild horses in full gallop is nothing short of breathtaking, and as they surge across the landscape, a surge of emotion tightens your heart in your chest, leaving you captivated by the untamed beauty unfolding before your eyes.

In a hushed and reverent tone, you marvel, “They are so beautiful,” your words barely more than a breath, yet carrying the weight of admiration. A subtle nod from Yoongi acknowledges the shared appreciation of the magnificent spectacle before you.

As your heart swells with longing, a sense of crushing desire envelops you, wishing for the freedom these majestic horses possess—to express your truth and embrace the things you yearn for in life. The ache intensifies, a silent plea echoing in the vast expanse of the open landscape.

Your hands clutch the reins, and a damp sensation draws your attention. Glancing down, you discover small droplets of water clinging to your skin. A subtle sniffle escapes you, and it dawns on you—tears cascade down your cheeks, marking your hands with the tangible evidence of your silent emotional storm.

A constriction tightens your chest, and you draw in a deep breath, hoping to ease the pressure, only to release it in a slow exhale. The rhythm of your breath echoes the emotional turbulence within.

Yoongi’s gaze gently turns in your direction, his expression a silent symphony of understanding. No words escape his lips, yet the warmth of a caring smile lingers, offering a comforting embrace in the quietude between you.

You lift a trembling hand to your face, attempting to quell the rebellious tears that seem to have a life of their own. Your breath quickens, a desperate effort to steady your heart and rein in the tumultuous tide of emotions.

With a tear-streaked face, you turn to Yoongi, your eyes carrying the weight of a profound sadness. “Have you ever loved someone so much, it feels like you’re suffocating?”

Your heart carries the weight of your confession, a mix of both burden and liberation. The unspoken truth finally escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet spaces of your soul. Your feelings for Jimin, profound and unyielding, create a storm within, rendering you incapable of coherent thought, drowning in irrationality and a bitter sea of jealousy.

“Yeah,” he utters with a weighted exhale, the weight of that single syllable hangs thick in the air, a tangible presence in the shared space between you. Compassion wells up within you, not just for him, but for your own tender heart. Silent tears continue their descent, accompanied by a subdued sniffle that punctuates the shared vulnerability in the moment.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grumbling under your breath, you meticulously tend to the veggie garden, methodically extracting weeds and inspecting the plants for any sign of ripe fruit. Kneeling on a plush mat to provide respite for your beleaguered knees, your hands adorned with protective gloves, ensuring that both your hands and fingers remain shielded as you immerse yourself in the nurturing care of the flourishing garden.

Amidst the monotony of this laborious task, you find yourself immersed in the meticulous chore of weeding, the unfortunate bearer of the short straw today. Rows of carrots and potatoes bear witness to your diligent efforts as you navigate through the verdant expanse, determined to extract every intrusive weed that dares encroach upon the fertile soil.

Lost in contemplation, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps stealthily closes in on you, their approach unheard in the sanctuary of your introspective musings.

“Hi, I’m going into town,” your sister’s sudden announcement startles you from your gardening reverie. As you look up, her intent gaze meets yours, a tapestry of confusion woven into your expression.

“Why are you heading into town? Weren’t you supposed to tackle the tax today?” you inquire, your hands continuing their task of pulling stubborn weeds from the soil.

“I have that doctor’s appointment, remember?” Her raised eyebrow prompts a silent scold for forgetting such an important detail.

Panic flickers in your eyes as you abruptly halt your weeding, staring at your sister with genuine concern. “When did you mention the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?” Worry lines crease your forehead, a mix of surprise and anxiety clouding your expression.

With a light chuckle, she tries to alleviate your concerns, “Just a routine checkup, no big deal!” Her laughter carries a reassuring tone, and as she waves, the softness in her expression mirrors the warmth that envelops you.

You return her smile, your gaze lingering as she strolls away toward the yard, where the cars patiently wait.

“See you later,” she calls with a wave. From your perch in the veggie garden, you observe her unlocking the car, slipping into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck. The tail lights illuminate briefly, transitioning to brake lights before shifting to the soft glow of white. Jessi maneuvers in reverse, the wheels crunching on the dirt road as she disappears toward town.

As you return to the arduous task of pulling weeds, you find yourself grappling with the relentless tendrils of frustration, a silent curse escaping your lips like a rebellious whisper. Resigned to the fate of having drawn the shortest straw, you navigate through the sea of stubborn greenery, each tug of resistance echoing the monotony of your predicament.

Beneath the blazing midday sun, gratitude washes over you for the protective refuge of your hat, casting a welcomed shadow upon both your face and neck. Yet, despite this shield, beads of perspiration dance down your forehead, a testament to the unexpected physical rigor of the task at hand. The sheer demand of the job dawns upon you, surpassing your initial expectations. 

Anticipating the aftermath, you realize the likelihood of waking up tomorrow with sore arms, an inevitability intensified if you neglect the crucial post-labor ritual of stretching your fatigued muscles.

Emerging victorious from your laborious undertaking, you navigate your way into the kitchen, a sanctuary promising respite in the form of an icy glass of water. As the fridge door swings open, a cascade of cool air envelops your sweat-drenched face, offering a fleeting reprieve before you reluctantly seize the chilled jug. Your quest for relief continues as you reach for an overhead cabinet, extracting a glass that promises salvation. The sensation of the glass against your palms is a prelude to the ecstasy that follows as you pour the water, savoring its frosty embrace. With each indulgent gulp, the frigid liquid becomes a balm, soothing the searing heat that has claimed your body in this relentless weather.

Savoring the rejuvenating coolness, you lean leisurely against the countertop, the glass of water a welcome oasis in your hands. Just as the refreshing liquid begins to work its magic, Soo-ah strides into the kitchen, her expression twisted into a weird frown.

Your discerning gaze sweeps over Soo-ah’s form, a subtle intuition whispering that something is amiss, yet the unspoken question lingers on your lips. Before you can voice your inquiry, she breaks the pregnant silence, her words hanging in the air like a cryptic prelude. “Have you seen Jessi?”

A subtle tremor courses through your being as you dismissively shake your head, “She’s in town for a doctor’s appointment.” 

A shadow of concern paints Soo-ah’s features as she deftly retrieves her phone from the depths of her pocket, her eyes flicking to the screen with a mixture of urgency and unease. “How long has she been gone?”

A ripple of disquiet snakes its way through you, fueled by Soo-ah’s restive demeanor. Methodically, you rewind the clock in your mind, tallying the hours since Jessi’s presence graced your sight. “About five hours,” you declare, the admission carrying a weight that coils into an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Weariness etches itself deeper into Soo-ah’s countenance, her features now a canvas painted with both fatigue and concern. Your heartbeat quickens, a subtle but undeniable jolt, as the realization takes hold—this is not merely a cause for concern, but an ominous sign that tightens its grip around your heart, intensifying the ominous gravity of the moment.

A sudden, piercing ring shatters the stillness, and your gaze instinctively darts towards the source—a resonating chime from the landline. The air tightens around you, your heartbeat accelerating into a rapid cadence, each breath shallow and tense. A palpable wave of dread courses down your spine, a cold shiver that heralds an impending revelation. Locking eyes with Soo-ah, both of you stand frozen, caught in the ominous limbo between the echoing ring and the unknown that awaits on the other end of the line.

You should pick it up dammit! A stern scolding echoing in your mind, compelling your body into animated motion that seems detached from your own will. With a sense of urgency, you traverse the space to the countertop, your hand stretching out towards the ringing phone. As your fingertips make contact with the cream-colored plastic, a surge of anxiety courses through them, a prelude to the unknown that awaits on the other end. The plastic yields beneath the pressure of your grip, and in the hushed anticipation, you lift the receiver, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. 

“Hello, Bora Ranch. How can I help you?”

The voice on the other end of the line weaves a narrative that acts like a chilling undertow, dragging your heart into an abyss of despair. Your hand involuntarily tightens around the phone, a desperate grip as if it were your sole connection to a vanishing lifeline.

The voice on the other end, that of the doctor’s receptionist, cuts through the air, delivering news that lands with a disconcerting weight. 

“We’re calling to let you know that Jessi missed her appointment today, and we wanted to know if she wants to reschedule another one?” 

You then realize that weird feeling you’ve been having— this isn’t good.

A furrow etches itself onto your brow, the cord winding around your other hand as if trying to anchor you in a moment slipping out of your control. “She hasn’t come home yet. Can I get back to you?” 

The words hang in the air, delivered with a voice that quivers with a blend of unease and uncertainty, as you begin to grasp what this means.

The receptionist’s agreement is a somber symphony in your ears before bidding goodbye. With a heart weighed down by the gravity of the call, you delicately place the receiver back in its cradle. As your eyes shift back to Soo-ah, her visage mirrors your own unsettled state, her features etched with a shared tension, a palpable reflection of the worry that swirls between you like an unspoken storm.

A thick silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken fears. 

Soo-ah, unable to bear the weight any longer, shatters the tension like fragile glass. “Well, what is it?” Her words cut through the quiet, a desperate plea for answers.

You’re afraid.

Dread coils around your words, a vice grip on your throat as you grapple with the weight of unspoken fears. The hesitation lingers, but the urgency pushes you to break the silence. “Jessi never made it to her appointment…” 

You observe the subtle transformation in Soo-ah’s face, a haunting dance between anguish and concern. 

“Well, where is she then?” Soo-ah demands, her voice betraying an unsteady cadence that mirrors the delicate balance of the unspoken question hanging in the air, as if the answer hinges on your words. Your gaze reflects uncertainty, exhaling a breath heavy with the weight of the unknown.

“I think something bad has happened to her,” your voice wavers, the admission reluctant and laden with a vulnerability that you wish could be erased. The words, heavy with an unwelcome truth, carry the weight of a foreboding certainty that reverberates deep within your bones—an ominous resonance that refuses to be silenced.

Soo-ah, with her once sun-kissed complexion drains of its warmth, now veering into an eerie, almost gray pallor. A whisper of worry taints her words as she utters, “We should call Jungkook.” 

With a solemn nod, you reach for your phone, fingers betraying a subtle tremor as you punch in Jungkook’s number. As you raise the phone to your ear, the weight of the impending conversation echoes in the hollow space between each ring.

Holding your breath, time stretches into an agonizing eternity as you strain to listen to each ring, each heartbeat resonating in the charged stillness. The suspense tightens like a coil around your chest until, finally, a tremulous exhale escapes as Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence.

“This is Kook.”

An instant paralysis grips your vocal cords, a sudden constriction that renders your throat a silent battleground, incapable of surrendering even a solitary word. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s inquiry pierces the heavy silence, his voice carrying a note of concern that seems to reverberate through the unspoken void on the other end of the line.

A glacial stillness descends upon you, an icy grip that renders you immobile. 

Words, elusive and stubborn, refuse to surface. Soo-ah’s worried gaze lingers on you, but in a decisive sweep, she snatches the phone from your ear, her move cutting through the stasis like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a frozen landscape. 

“Hi, it’s Soo-ah. We need your help,” her voice, a steady prelude to the storm brewing beneath the surface, carries the weight of urgency as she unfolds the crucial details. “Jessi left for a doctor’s appointment, but she never made it, and it’s been five hours now. We’re afraid something has happened… Will you help us search for her?”

The murmur of Jungkook’s response on the other end remains elusive to your ears, but Soo-ah, in a breathy exhale that holds a universe of gratitude, utters a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She returns your lifeline– the phone, with a subtle yet meaningful gesture, restoring it to your hands as if passing the torch for the impending journey into the unknown. 

“He’ll be here in 10 minutes to pick you up,” she discloses, the gravity of her concern etching deeper creases onto her forehead. 

“What are you gonna do then?” The words burst from you, riding the crest of a wave formed by a potent mix of frustration and worry, their resonance echoing in the room. 

“I’m going to stay here… In case she comes home,” she reveals, her commitment to a vigil laden with unspoken hope. But then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, “or if the hospital calls.” 

The weight of her last admission sends a sinking feeling through your chest, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Understanding settles in, and you offer a solemn nod, bracing yourself for Jungkook’s imminent arrival as the silent countdown to unravel the mystery begins.

Before the sleek silhouette of his black pickup truck materializes, the air is sliced by the cacophony of tires screeching—a desperate symphony of grip and resistance against the unforgiving dirt, an audible testament to the urgency that propels Jungkook towards the yard.

You dash outside, the urgent thud of your footsteps aligning with the accelerating heartbeat of the moment. Jungkook hurtles down the driveway, a kinetic force in his speeding vehicle that screeches to a dramatic halt before you. The window rolls down, revealing a face etched with determination, and he hollers, “Get in.” 

Obediently following his command, you seize the door handle, leaping into the truck with a hurried intensity. The door barely has time to shut before Jungkook slams his foot on the accelerator, leaving a swirling cloud of sand in the wake of the roaring vehicle. 

Worry etches deep lines into his face, transforming his normally composed features into a tapestry of concern. His lips press into a stern line, and his eyes, laser-sharp, pierce through the windshield, scanning the road ahead. The white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrays a tension that courses through him, turning his knuckles into pale anchors of anxiety. 

“What the hell happened?” The words slice through the air, dripping with a demanding tone that carries an undertone of a hiss, a viper’s sharpness in each syllable. 

Turning toward him, you admit with a meekness that hangs in the air, “I don’t know.” Your voice, a delicate whisper, contrasts with the clenching of your hands over your pants, while your bottom lip falls victim to the anxious bite of nerves. Fuck.

The weight of hope and fear interlaces in your thoughts—desperately wishing Jessi is safe, yet haunted by the gnawing question of why, if she is, hasn’t she reached out? 

Jungkook maneuvers the vehicle like a man possessed, hurtling down the lone road that unravels into town with a velocity that borders on recklessness. This is Jessi’s path, the very route she would undoubtedly have traversed. 

Your heart orchestrates a frenzied symphony of worry and fear, its rapid tempo matching the breakneck speed at which Jungkook propels the truck forward. 

The uneven terrain jolts beneath the truck’s tires, a relentless assault on the vehicle as it hurtles down these rugged, neglected roads. The coarse reality of the battered path becomes starkly apparent with every bone-rattling bump, each pothole a testament to the less-than-ideal conditions. 

“Slow down unless you want us to crash!” You warn him in a stern voice as desperation fuels your words and you clutch the handle at the top of the truck, your knuckles turning white as you seek stability amid the turbulent velocity. 

He merely huffs, an audible dismissal that betrays the resilience of his determination. It’s evident that your words struggle to penetrate the thick armor of his focus. However, your own concerns take precedence, and the prospect of a car accident looms like an ominous specter in the midst of your search for Jessi. 

“Fucking slow down or let me drive!” The urgency in your yell slices through the truck, a desperate ultimatum that demands immediate action. A tangible flinch from Jungkook, beside you, signals the impact of your words. With a reluctant release, he eases his right foot off the gas pedal, and the once-roaring speed of the vehicle unravels into a gradual deceleration. 

“Thank you,” you declare with a furious edge, your gratitude tinged with the lingering urgency of the search.

Jungkook skillfully guides the turn with a precise speed, threading the needle between velocity and caution. As the vehicle emerges from the curve, the truth unravels before your eyes. 

A sight that sends your heart plummeting, and an unspoken pact of dread settles between you and Jungkook, a bone-chilling silence that engulfs the interior of the truck. 

There it is, the all-too-familiar white pickup truck, an unexpected apparition right before you, nestled on the side of the road. It’s not parked; it’s crumbled against a tree. 

Jungkook wrenches his truck to a sudden halt, the engine silenced with a precision that echoes the urgency of the moment. In a flash, he bolts out of the car, a whirlwind of determination propelling him towards the scene. You trail closely in his wake, the echoes of your pounding heart reverberating alongside a disorienting ringing in your ears.

You sprint towards the crumpled wreckage, the front of the car wedged against the unforgiving tree. Panic fuels your frantic search for your sister amidst the twisted metal. Jungkook beats you to the driver’s side, and in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse, you tiptoe over his shoulders. 

The chilling reality reveals itself—blood stains the window, and Jessi’s head, eyes closed, rests against it in an unsettling image. 

Fuck.

“Jessi!” The desperate cry erupts from deep within you, a primal howl behind Jungkook, and you resort to clawing at his back in a futile attempt to let you pass. However, he remains an immovable barrier, unyielding in his protective stance. 

His hand extends, a forceful gesture that wards you off, and his demanding tone slices through the charged air, declaring, “No, let me.”

You cease your futile attempt to scratch through the barrier of Jungkook’s back, relinquishing control to his judgment. Your gaze fixates on the unfolding scene as he seizes the door handle, pounding on the window while the fervent echo of your sister’s name reverberates through the stagnant air. 

A leaden weight settles upon your heart, dragging it down to depths unknown, and you slump to the unforgiving ground beside the truck. The haunting question hangs in the air, an unspoken fear clawing at your consciousness—could she be dead?

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a poignant manifestation of your helplessness, as you watch the scene unfold. The overwhelming sense of uselessness engulfs you like a suffocating shroud because Jungkook, with his determined insistence, bars you from contributing to the unfolding crisis. 

Jungkook channels every ounce of his strength into wrenching the door handle, a Herculean effort that, to your dismay, yields no success. Undeterred, he pivots, striding purposefully around the car to attack the problem from the passenger’s side. The moment of truth arrives as the door finally acquiesces to his relentless determination, swinging open with a sudden release of pent-up tension. Jungkook, caught off guard by the door’s sudden compliance, is propelled backward, almost airborne, a visceral testament to the raw force he exerted in the pursuit of accessing the vehicle’s interior.

With a determined crawl into the cabin, Jungkook bridges the agonizing gap between hope and despair, finally reaching your sister. The urgency in his voice echoes through the air as he commands, “Call an ambulance!”

You rise from the unforgiving ground, a determined surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With swift precision, you extract your phone, fingers dancing with urgency as you dial those three critical numbers. 

“Is she alive?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile whisper that dares not disturb the gravity of the moment. Holding your breath, you await his answer, the air thick with the weight of an impending revelation that could reshape the contours of your reality. 

“She’s breathing,” Jungkook exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, a momentary respite from the tension. You approach the driver’s window, eyes fixed on your sister’s form. The sight of her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm becomes a visual anchor, a palpable reassurance that she clings to life. 

Well, that’s good.

Cradling the phone to your ear, you navigate the urgent conversation, orchestrating a plea for the ambulance to converge on your dire location. The proximity of the ranch intensifies the raw reality—you aren’t that far away. A sinking feeling grips your heart as you grasp the cruel expanse of time she’s endured out here, alone and injured. 

Jungkook delicately prods Jessi’s arm, a gesture pregnant with hope, yet the anticipated response remains elusive—a disheartening void that echoes the uncertainty of the situation. 

“I know it looks bad, but we shouldn’t move her. It’s best to wait for the paramedics,” Jungkook utters reluctantly from the passenger’s seat.

You acknowledge the truth in his words, but your gaze lingers on Jessi, a silent witness to the vivid evidence of her injuries—blood seeping from her head. The unsettling unknown looms large, a haunting question mark etched across your thoughts—what other wounds might she be concealing beneath the shadows of her stillness? 

The wait for the ambulance unfolds like a nightmarish blur until the air is pierced by the sound of a low voice. Both you and Jungkook pivot, your gazes converging on your sister, a crescendo of fear and anticipation reaching its zenith. 

Jessi stirs, her murmurs threading through the air, but the coherence of her words eludes understanding. As her eyes tentatively flutter open, a feeble attempt to articulate follows, yet the utterances emerge as a nonsensical cascade, the syllables twisted into a form of gibberish. 

“It’s okay. You’ve been in a car accident, and the ambulance is on its way,” Jungkook reassures, his words a tender balm delivered with a gentle caress on your sister’s cheek. Tears shimmer in his eyes, a raw display of his emotional turmoil, as his calloused fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheekbone.

Her head pivots towards you, eyes finally unveiling an unspoken distance, their luster dimmed. A pang reverberates through your chest as you meet her gaze—her eyes, once vibrant, now bear the weight of an unspoken ordeal. The visceral urge to pull her from the confinements of the wreck claws at your heart. Oh, why can’t you just extract her from this damn car, ensuring her safety and whisking away the haunting uncertainty that clings to the moment? 

“It’s going to be okay,” Jungkook utters, his voice quivering with a blend of reassurance and uncertainty that reverberates through the air. His attempt at strength is palpable, yet the vulnerability seeps through the cracks as tears cascade down his face.

Yet amidst the chaos, a fervent hope takes root within you, a beacon amid the storm of uncertainty. A silent plea echoes in the depths of your being, transcending mere optimism, as you yearn—truly, desperately, for everything to unfold in a way that defies the ominous shadows cast by the present.

The wail of the ambulance siren pierces the air, heralding the arrival of salvation, and it swiftly aligns next to Jungkook’s car. A flurry of activity ensues as paramedics spill out, each armed with purposeful bags. Amidst the orchestrated urgency, some of them extract a stretcher from the belly of the ambulance.

Jungkook emerges from the car, gracefully ceding the realm to the paramedics, and approaches your side. His arm envelops your trembling frame, a silent reassurance amidst the tumult. No words pass between you as the paramedics meticulously cut the seatbelt, delicately affix a collar around Jessi’s neck, their movements choreographed in a synchronized ballet of urgency. 

Within the orchestrated chaos, a paramedic deploys a machine, its mechanical whir echoing through the night, to pry open the driver’s door. Simultaneously, another paramedic stands sentinel, ensuring Jessi remains securely in place, a guardian against the imminent void that will unfold once the door is relinquished.

The scene is gruesomely vivid, and an involuntary welling of tears clouds your vision as the brutal reality sets in. Leaning into Jungkook’s unwavering presence, you find solace in the haven of his steady frame, though your sniffling breaths betray the emotional maelstrom within. As your tears mingle with his on the fabric of your shirt, a silent communion of shared vulnerability takes root.

With meticulous care, the paramedics lift Jessi from the driver’s side, each movement deliberate and measured as they lay her down on the stretcher. The air hangs heavy with collective breath, your own held in a suspended moment of agonizing anticipation. The constriction in your chest intensifies, a sensation of breathlessness seizing you. Seeking an anchor in the chaos, you find Jungkook’s hand, fingers interlocking in a tight, desperate grip—a physical manifestation of the silent plea echoing within as you navigate the precipice of uncertainty.

“We’ll transport her to the hospital in town. You can follow us if you want,” one of the paramedics offers, their words a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. Gratitude courses through you, and you manage a nod of appreciation, though the knot in your throat constricts your ability to voice your thanks. 

Your gaze lingers on the departing ambulance, the doors sealing your sister’s fate within its sterile embrace. A quiet sniffle punctuates the lingering echoes of the departure. When you turn to Jungkook, his face bears the marks of tear-streaked sorrow, a testament to the profound love he harbors for your sister. The depth of his emotions mirrors the tumult within you, both bound by an unspoken yearning for everything to be right—for the fractures to heal and the shadows to dissipate in the face of an uncertain journey that now stretches before you.

The ambulance departs, leaving a gritty trail of dirt in its wake, a visual metaphor for the unsettling uncertainty now etched into your reality. Your gaze lingers on the vacated space it once occupied, a void that echoes the fear reverberating within. The future looms before you, an ominous terrain shrouded in ambiguity, and you grapple with the unrelenting questions that cast shadows on the path ahead.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[kangen-wanshi]

Kisses ft Larry, Brassius, Hassel

Obviously enough, their favourite place to kiss

Tags: Separate, fluff, kisses duh

A/N: Sorry for the odd formating. I think Tumblr is glitching on me

Larry, On The Cheek

A simple man, and a simple kiss.

When he leaves for work, when you visit during his break, when he comes home, anytime,  his first instinct is to kiss your cheek.

It's easy, and he doesn't have to worry about PDA much while still giving you the loving recognition that you deserve. 

He'd lean down (or tiptoed up to you), and just plant a firm kiss to your cheek while holding your face with his hand.

If you're lucky, he'd sometimes drop a quick "I love you" and a bonus kiss to your temple.

During moments where he feels a little more deprived of your kiss, just hold his hand in yours and kiss his cheek back.

Might not show it, but from such close proximity to his face, you can feel his cheek heating up a little with a small smile on his face.

His favorite for you to give him is on his lips.

Again, simple man, simple request. 

A peck, a longing kiss, or even something more, he's all good for it, as long as you initiate it first.

He suppose it gives him a sense that, despite his sense of normal, you still long for his affection as much as he does.

"I'll try to come home early today. So please, wait for me."

Brassius, On The Back of Your Hand

A gentleman, truly.

He has been doing this even before the two of you are together. 

He just find the gesture absolutely romantic and deserving for someone as beautiful and as elegant as you are (no matter how much you argue against his word, he'll stay true to it)

Sometimes he'll even kneel for you.

Like that one time when his Sudowoodo had apparently run away, he spent hours trying to spot the tree pokemon, and you easily found it within minutes at the park between other trees.

(You asked him whether he wants to see a doctor to get glasses prescription or not but he kissed your hand thank you and you just sort of forgot about it)

A bonus to this is that Brassius' hands are quite calloused. Years of sculpting does that to a man, and you'd cherish those every bumps and scars on his skin rather than telling him to put gloves over them.

His favorite place to be kissed is hands. Specifically,  his palm.

As mentioned before, the skin on his palm is thick and calloused. Small scars littered his hands, you can even easily spot new ones every other week.

If you press your lips firmly against his palm, and trace every little scar you see with your soft breathing, you'd receive one of the rare moments where Brassius just shuts up and enjoy the tingling feeling of warmth in his hand.

If he's feeling sentimental he'd probably reciprocate with a kiss on your lips, and a firm hand on the back of your head.

He may be loud and passionate,  but with you, he simply can't help but smother himself in the soft gentle side of loving another.

Hassel, On The Lips

It's easy! He loves you, so he'll opt to kiss your lips to show it.

Not that he's against other types of kisses, he just thinks that a kiss on the lips should express his love more properly.  And to tell people about the feelings the two of you have for each other quite easily.

Even at school, he doesn't mind kissing you on the lips. Though it might just be quick pecks, he still has an image to hold after all.

But away from prying eyes, his lips can never seem to leave yours.

Your cheek, your nose, your forehead, your jaw, and finally your lips.

He just loves you okay. Other than his obvious vocalization of it, his kisses explains a lot about his feelings.

He's the type to easily giggle during kisses though.

Small smiles, chuckle, and just full blown laughter. You name it, he'd definitely break a smile whenever he planted a kiss on your face.

Hassel doesn't have a favorite place to be kissed, but since he's quite tall, he probably would have a soft spot for kisses on his jaw or his neck.

It doesn't even have to be sensual. He can sometimes be ticklish if caught off guard, and he might just hold you by your arms as he bursts out laughing with blushes on his face.

Also love it if you initiate the kiss on the lips.

Makes him feel like he's more than just a pokemon trainer, an elite four, but your loyal, loving partner.

(A bonus point is blowing raspberries to his neck. He'll be absolutely embarrassed if it's done in public. He'd never be angry at you, but just be prepared for a series of revenge kisses when the two of you are alone).

[vodika-vibes]

"I'm going to beat you so bad that you're going to wish I was 17."

LOOOOL WOLFFE YOU JUST SIGNED YOUR OWN DEATH WARRANT 🤣

And I don’t think Fox will be forgetting about that Shiny anytime soon either . . .

Lol, poor Wolffe, luckily he can handle it. The Shiny, however, cannot.

Also, tumblr was being dumb about this post and I don't know why.

This is getting ridiculous, you decide as you rearrange the Chancellor's schedule to make room for his Physical, and flat out cancel his meeting with Anakin. It has been weeks, weeks, since you've been able to be alone with Fox.

You tap your foot on the carpeted floor, and glower at the schedule. Everytime you try, that new guy keeps redirecting you to Thorn, or Thire, or Stone and it's getting to the point where you're going to beat the Shiny to death with your datapad if he doesn't stop.

"My dear," Your gaze snaps to the Chancellor, "It appears that my meeting with Anakin has been canceled."

"He had a Jedi thing he needed to do. Something with the kid he's trying to raise." You reply honestly, for once. "So that gives you an hour of free time this afternoon, if you wish to duck out early."

"I might just." He muses, "Thank you, my dear." He pauses and looks you over, "You seem stressed, young one, why don't you take the rest of the day off."

You glance at the schedule, all the Chancellor has left for the day is a series of appointments with doctors, so you nod. "I think that might be a good idea. Thank you sir." With that decision made, you power down your datapad, and you head towards the elevator.

You hit the button that takes you to the lowest levels, and you make a beeline for Fox's office. Only to get intercepted by that one, damned, shiny.

"Welcome back!" He says cheerfully, "Commander Thorn is available if you need to speak with someone."

"I need to talk to the Marshal Commander." You reply.

"I'm afraid Commander Fox is busy." The Shiny replies brightly as he tries to herd you towards Thorn.

"Is he in a meeting?"

"No ma'am,"

Your smile twitches slightly, "On a call?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then he can make time for me." You say flatly, as you turn to head towards Fox's office. You're stopped when a firm hand wraps around your wrist.

Your gaze drops to the hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, and then you look up at him, genuine surprise on your face. "The Marshal Commander has better things to do than talk to silly little girls."

The Bullpen is totally silent for a moment, and you see Thorn and Thire heading your way, while Stone hurries into Fox's office. And you smile nicely.

"CT-9735, correct?" You power your datapad back on, and switch to a different page, "How would you like to be reassigned? Let's see, the 104th and the 91st need people-"

"You don't have the authority to do that." His grip tightens around your wrist, and you don't wince from sheer force of will.

And then another hand wraps firmly around the Shiny's wrist, "Let them go." Fox's voice is very low and very, very angry.

"She seems to think that she can reassign me-"

"They speak with all of the authority of the Supreme Chancellor. If they want to reassign you, they more than have the authority to do so." Fox interrupts, and you're finally released, "What's more, at this point I'm considering reassigning you myself."

"Commander-"

"Personal Assistant Yuu has free reign to enter my office whenever they desire." Fox says flatly, "And if you have a problem with that-"

"She's a vain, shallow girl! She has no business bothering you-"

"There is nothing vain or shallow about them." Fox bites out.

"Sir, you don't know her-"

For a moment, you worry that Fox is going to just shoot him, but then his expression clears. He turns to you, a small little grin playing on his lips.

Stars, he's so handsome, you love him so much-

And then your train of though cuts off as he crashes his lips against yours, immediately setting one hand on your hip while the other lightly caresses the back of your neck.

You stand on your toes, your arms sliding around his neck as he lightly nips your lower lip, and you whine softly.

And when Fox breaks the kiss, you let out a groan of disappointment, but he just chuckles and presses his forehead against yours. "It's about time," You breathe out.

Fox grins at you, "I'm going back to my office. I'm taking them with me. The next person who tries to bother me is getting shot. Am I clear?"

Thorn has a wide grin on his face, "Crystal clear, sir! Have fun."

[marvel-and-chicago-fan]

Sick Sister

First Tumblr post ever, i work on wattpad but i want to also post my stuff on here. Anyways hope you enjoy

Requested: No

Warnings: Fainting, Hospitals, and one mention of ambulances

______________________________________________________________

Mattie’s Pov

“Mattie” you woke up to Jay pulling your covers off.

“Jay stop, it's so cold in here, did you turn the heat down or something?”

“No, I even turned it up last night cause I swear I could hear you shivering”. Jay said while going to feel Mattie's head.

“Gosh Mattie your burning up”

“I'm going to go grab the thermometer and call will, I'll be back”. Jay said while walking out of your room.

“Alright Mattie, I'm back”.

***

Jay called Will six times in the past hour taking the hint that he was busy or he just didn't want to answer so he called Connor in hopes that he would answer.

“Hello? Jay?” Connors tone confused on why his co-workers brother would call him

“Matilda has a fever of 103.1. I gave her tylenol around an hour ago and doesn't seem like it's working”.

“As her doctor im saying you should bring her in, but if you think she's ok then you can keep her at home”.

“I'm going to bring her in and-”. Jay stopped mid sentence hearing a loud thump. “Mattie, Matilda?”

Connor could hear Jay running up the stairs trying to figure out what happened.

“Jay-Jay, what's going on? Talk to me”

You felt a familiar feeling in your stomach, either it's because you're hungry or you need to throw up the crackers you ate.

As soon as you stand up get really dizzy you try to shake off the feeling but you can't, so you attempt to head down stairs but as soon as you take your next step you feel your body hit the floor and everything goes black.

According to Will and Jay you tend to faint every time you get sick but you don't remember so you just believe whatever they say and go with it.

The first time this happened Jay thought someone broke in since it was 6 in the morning. You swear you heard will yell that it was just you and not a criminal but your brushed it off thinking it was just a dream”

***

“It's Mattie, she fainted aging” .

“Make sure you put her feet up i'll let will know”

Before connor could finish jay hung up to call an ambulance”

***

“What've we got, Maggie”? Will asked as the paramedic handed over the young girl to the hospital.

“Matilda Halstead, 15 years old, found unconscious by her brother… Will you can't handle her, you the hospital protocols, I swear i didn't know”

Will was just left standing there as he watched his little sister being taken care of by other doctors.

***

Wills/No Ones POV

“At this point i think we should just put in the hospital with 24/7 surveillance everytime she gets sick” Will trying to make a joke

“First of all she hates hospitals and needles so that's a no, and i just realized that i forgot to tell voight i wouldn't be there. Haileys probably thought i've gone missing from not answering anyone's phone calls”.

Just then Connor walks in “Ok so she's ok now and you can see her now, she's dealurios but that will wear off soon. I wanted to run a few tests and it looks like she suffered from heat syncope. It looks like it's what causes the fainting every time she gets a high fever” .

“Thank you Connor”. Will replied

“Anytime guys, anytime”.

***

Mattie’s POV

Just then you saw your brothers come in and will told you to stop playing with your iv 

“Ha you two look alike for some reason”

“That's because we're brother mattie” Jay said while coming sit down next to you

“Mattie? But the doctors told me i was matilda am i impersonating someone” You whined

“No Matilda, we call you Mattie for short so you're not impersonating anyone, '' Jay said, trying to contain his laughter.

“Hey, stop laughing at me. Your so mean” You said almost crying

“Oh mattie jay just a 3 year old in an old man's body” Will sighed trying to calm down mattie

***

The rest of the night was filled with mattie making everyone laugh then connor discharged her

“Is she asleep?” Jay says when will comes down stairs

“Yep she finally let herself relax and sleep”

“She's just like you jay”

“And how she's more like you” Jay gasped

“She loves to be babied when she sick just like you” Will chuckled 

“Since you wanna keep coming at me like that you're in charge of waking her tomorrow morning”. Jay commented

“What?”

“See you tomorrow night will”

Will sat there thinking about how he's raising two children instead of 1 little sister.

[therentyoupay]

Hi, I was just wondering if technical difficulties is abandoned?

I hope you’re doing well!

*drops in after 5 years and 4 months with a technical difficulties chapter update*

*disappears*

cover art made by @angel-gidget ♡

03/08/23. HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, ALL, LONG LONG LONG TIME, NO SEE. ♡ Can you believe it? When I first published this story (first to tumblr, then to ao3), I had just moved to Japan! When I posted ch. 7, I was still living in Japan, and would stay there for another 7ish months... and in the 5 years and 4 months since posting the last chapter, I have moved to three different cities in the United States and started a Ph.D. program. (I am currently halfway through my PhD program!!!!!) What a wild ride. Also, we lived through the pandemic?! And I bought a house! Over the summer! The market was vicious.

So, then how did I get the inspiration/time/energy/motivation to write Ch. 8, you ask? Marvelous question. I lied down in bed last night to go to sleep "early" and ended up reading an utterly hilarious play-by-play commentary on Bad Books, Good Times of a popular fantasy novel series—and I'm not quite sure what it was about "poorly written books explained by hilariously clever book lovers" but I suddenly had a craving for fanfiction, so I opened up my Books app on my phone, and my eyes fell upon a sudden recommendation for my downloaded copy of technical difficulties. And I thought, "Am I suddenly and weirdly in the mood to jot down some notes to start Ch. 7 right now? By golly, I think I am."

4.5 hours later, I'd written the whole damn thing from scratch on my phone in my Notes app. (Messily! Half-assed! But I wrote all of it down!) I then spent another 6.5 hours today filling in the gaps and "editing." This chapter (and the one that will follow it) has been in my head for more than half a decade, but I just haven't had the space to get it out until now!!

I think one of the most beautiful parts of getting a PhD is how completely it blows your perfectionism tendencies utterly to bits, and one of the really interesting byproducts that has come up in my acdemic writing is just how quickly I can crank out decent-enough writing (skill-building!!). In my case, I think so much of it has to do with just being able to word vomit fairly well while not trying to fix anything until the whole damn thing is basically done. So, I applied that knowledge here! Behold!

This isn't to say that I'll be writing the final chapter anytime soon—I may be on spring break right now and may have had a stroke of Writing Inspiration in the Wild™ last night, but I'm still finishing my last semester of classes and learning advanced Python and working on my milestone paper for my doctoral program and preparing to present at my next conference in June and preparing my proposal for my dissertation next fall. BUT! The important thing is that I will post the last chapter of this story (and all my other stories)! Eventually!! ;)

No BETA for this chapter because I gotta THROW this out onto the internet and get back to coding, so bear with! I may do minor edits for it in the near or distant future. Also, please note that I have not watched any episodes of Miraculous Ladybug after the finale of Season 1, so this fic is very much a ~time capsule~ from the past. If there is any additional lore that might otherwise apply to the plot of this fic, please know that I don't know about it, and I am keeping myself selectively ignorant on all matters of Miraculous Ladybug season 2 and beyond until after I finish this story the way I originally intended. ♡ Woo!

as for, tumblr, sadly, to be honest, I'm never really online anymore! I'll respond to comments here on ao3 ASAP, though. ♡ LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU. ♡♡♡

[losthomunculus]

I posted 7,330 times in 2022

That's 3,323 more posts than 2021!

771 posts created (11%)

6,559 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fitzkn

@jsuisbaby

@kaeyas-tits

@utenaposter

@serizawadyke

I tagged 1,815 of my posts in 2022

#genshin impact - 67 posts

#fave - 59 posts

#gi crockpot - 58 posts

#cats - 41 posts

#askbox - 41 posts

#nagito komaeda - 40 posts

#childe - 39 posts

#poetry tag - 38 posts

#chiluc - 37 posts

#hajime hinata - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#iirc i’m also like medically more susceptible to heat 💀 but it’s like minor enough to just b an annoyance w my lifestyle (avoids direct sun

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I do not think it was a good choice on Ei's part to abandon Scaramouche but I am going to be glaring very judgmentally at people who use Scaramouche to flatten Ei and disregard her as a 2 dimensional villain

185 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

#4

working theory on dendro vision criteria

so my current theory on dendro vision traits, which will probably change considering im only referencing collei, tighnari, and baizhu (and kusanali to a degree) is that it has something to do with taking action to surpass your current state or become a better version of yourself.

tighnari's vision was earned when he spoke out to correct misinformation at a lecture, surpassing the expectations of his status and the setting to pass on accurate information.

collei's vision was earned when the other forest rangers wouldnt organize a search party, so she took it upon herself to go out into the rain and find the missing child. surpassing her past self is even mentioned in her introduction.

we don't currently know much about baizhu, let alone his vision story, but running with my current hypothesis and what we do know, I have a theory. I think perhaps there was a point where he was hopeless in the face of his illness, and either his drive to become a doctor or to seek out immortality granted him a vision.

"To grow up is to best one's immature past self," is a line from collei's profile on the cuilein-anbar section, and I think it best encompasses the type of ideals that lead to people gaining dendro visions with the information currently available.

we see that value reflected in kusanali as well, who wants to become an archon worthy of her people, and who's story arc will be heading in that direction.

if anyone else has any theories please feel free to add on!

245 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

#3

Diluc: ugh 😑 what are you doing here? Why do you think I want to help you

Also Diluc: [helps with little convincing] [doesn’t argue that the winery is Kaeya’s home] [invites Kaeya to stay for dinner]

They are so bad at pretending to hate each other I love them

292 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

#2

hc that when childe first meets lisa hes like "oh my god? lisa from sumeru academy? I'm a big fan of your work!" and shes like huh I didn't take you for an academic and he's like "no not really I'm just a fan of whatever you did that makes dottore incoherently angry anytime someone says your name"

319 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

we got the radio interruption announcement

6,674 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kagetsukai]

I posted 541 times in 2022

13 posts created (2%)

528 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jellydishes

@feralgoblintea

@heroofshield

@mapplestrudel

@out-of-the-embers

I tagged 473 of my posts in 2022

Only 13% of my posts had no tags

#avenue queue - 425 posts

#dragon age - 65 posts

#art rec - 58 posts

#da:i - 37 posts

#signal boost - 32 posts

#i'm wheezing - 32 posts

#cullen rutherford - 28 posts

#commander handsome - 26 posts

#humor - 22 posts

#love it - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#every other flavor of white person i know (in europe) would rather die than have their guests be hungry

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Someone just tried to “shame” me for reblogging a hospital color theory post

Sir, we’re both on Tumblr in the year of our lord Beyonce 2022 and YOU are calling ME out for being cringe? Baby, that ship has sailed a LONG time ago. Get with the program. We’re all cringe here, but you in particular. Have a nice day 😘

6 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

#4

Well... I guess I’m middle-aged now.

7 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

#3

The reason it’s hard for me to be a person who is positive about the future is because anytime my life starts looking up and maybe things start falling into place, something huge and negative shows up and knocks me the fuck down. I always have, and continue to, merely keep my head above water.

7 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#2

End of the year writing round up

I was tagged by @barbex​ and @roguelioness​

Overview: This year I mostly stepped away from writing for Dragon Age after a series of unfortunate events that made me bitter about the fandom. I kind of started writing a fic for The Wayhaven Chronicles, but the story uses so little of canon that it might as well be an original at this point. That being said, I did write a fair bit of it and I’m quite proud.

As you can see, I wrote 72K words last year and I am thrilled, because it’s the most I’ve written in one year, ever - by about 20k words. As a bonus, here’s the percentages of how often I wrote in the last year. It’s not great, but it sure is better than 2020. Go me!

See the full post

9 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This was supposed to be a time of excitement and hope for the future. Instead, it’s become a nightmare.

About three weeks ago I finally made the decision to separate from the man I was living with. After several years of living like casual roommates, he was still blindsided when I told him I wanted to move out away from him, as if our relationship hadn’t been the worst joke in existence. Alas, after some sulking and some FB dramatics on his part, I was excited to move on. I was looking at new places to move into.

And then I found out my mother had a serious fall and had cracked her head enough to not be able to speak for a day. This stubborn woman had *refused* to go get it checked out and it wasn’t before I yelled at her that she chose to go get tested. It wasn’t until the day after that I found she had been admitted to the hospital. It wasn’t until the day after that I got the worse news of my entire life.

My mom has brain cancer.

The doctors are convinced that based on imaging they’ve done, the cancer had come from a different part of her body, but before they could give her all the testing to find out, she refused treatment, refused further testing, and went home. She hasn’t worked since the hospital stay and has been struggling to pick up things, or take care of basic needs.

I am still in shock, tbh, but I’m not afforded the luxury of processing my own emotions because suddenly she’s deteriorating at an exceeding pace and it looks like she might not have a lot of time.

In the meantime, I was approved for a wonderful one-bedroom apartment that looks absolutely *lovely*, but it’s incredibly hard to celebrate this new chapter of my life when it looks like I’m going to have yet another reason to hate my June birthday.

I don’t think I can explain more. All I can think about is the dry details, the information, the things that require logical parsing of what’s going on, because the moment I think about what I feel, I’m both numb AND like I’m about to break. None of it feels real, all while it’s way TOO real.

11 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cybernightwanderer]

My life was over before i was even born.

I haven't popped up here in a long time... Not because i didnt " need to vent " but more like, i hit a point where i was/am so alone, even the ghosts in tumblr won't be here. I know im alone, i know i don't have anyone in this world, a hand to reach out and save me from this hell, no one that loves me...i mean if my own parents didnt love me, who the fuck could. Im so exausted from " living "... So so exausted,,, I keep asking myself " what am i doing here? why am i here? i need to die"... Im basicly just waiting to die..no will to live, no personality, no likes, no dislikes, no goals, no wishes, no dreams, no one that wll remenber me, or wish i was there...just nightmares and memories of all the painfull and reocurring memories, over and over again, showing me that i shouldnt be here.. My lonelyness is so deep that i revisit my past just to have a glimpse of someone else but me.. I need to die...heck! i shouldnt even have been born...i was/am here just to serve a mother who didnt want to raise her kids alone, i was here to cater to the men in my family, i was brought here to be a slave and punished for all the women who suffered in my family. It's been 3 years and 4 months now, since my last job...this last job i suffered some " mild " sexual harrassement, and i say mild, because in comparison, nobody tried to rape this time, nobody beat me up... But i was saotaged, exploited, yelled at, humiliated, threatned, overall bullied, i tried to defend myself " dont talk to me that way " , i took photos , proof of the exploitation and abuse, of the sabotages, i hired a lawyer, i did everything right this time, i tried to protect myself at all costs... and that cost me the rest of my savings, my honor, even the lawyer scammed me and got away with my money... If that is not proof that i shouldve died along time ago then i dont know what.... I am unemployed, traumatized, my body is weak, my mind is fucking week...and nobody will hire me because of my looks, and my speech... 3 years going on 4 ...I will eventually be on the streets.

I keep questioning my reality more than ever...am i really a hardworking person? i tought i was...or maybe i was just workaholic to escape my mother, the pain she caused me, the slaving away and the mothering i was forced to my own brother... I am dumb, i am not assertive, i smile too much when i dont know what to say and when im embarrassed wich is anytime i talk to anyone, i am not pretty, i am too ugly for the customer to look at, my hair look dirty because its all cracked from the stress, my teeth are crooked, missing, yellowish, my body is bigger than my head, i have become overweight, even tho there are days i dont even eat, because my will to die is stronger... Is it the tattoos??? but its so common now to see workers with tattoos, even those with direct contact with a client, at the supermarket, at the post ofice, at the doctors, even piercings... So it's def not the tattoos or the piercings... Nobody hires me because of the way i look, of the way i talk.. and more specificly because of 3 years unemplyed... My ptsd caused me to be on auto pilot, hiding away from the sexual assault and the constant abuse...slowly i wake up here and there... and it's too late...it has become worse. What does one do when they cant even get a job? i dont wanna be homeless, i dont want to be raped, attacked, i ... I suffered too much, i've suffered enough in my lifetime...when does it end?? why does it keep getting worse and more painfull??WHY? the pain is too much i can barely breath, but not enough to kill me...what a miserable life..

[fishermanshook]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 INTRODUCTION & BYI + DNI

“WHO ARE YOU?”

hello one and all !! the name is cupiid , and I have been writing fan fiction for 1 year now (09/06). I’ve been on tumblr for about 3-4 ish years though , so I’m not new. although , I am still learning more about this app ! ｀(^ ▼^)´↑

I’m a bisexual minor who is currently going through the trenches ( high school , writers block ) who barely gets to see her darling wives ( alice & emily ) due to the war ( work ).

This blog started as a passion project of mine and was inspired by others in the community.

ʚɞ → [b badge] doctor , memory & enchantress main !!

ʚɞ → ♡︎ : enchan. , coord. , priestess , journ. , batter & “faro lady”.

ʚɞ → “fav trope[s]?” : [childhood] friends to lovers

ʚɞ → “main blog” @octopaii | oc @idv-the-fashion-designer

BYI

Feel free to chat anytime !! Just send me an ask and I’ll always be down.

I may be slow to follow back, as I always try and follow others who post similar content to me. [IDV x reader , as long as I’m not in their DNI]

I might not get to asks straight away due to legit just not knowing what to say sometimes, sorry about that in advance !!

I’m DEFINITELY a little slow when getting to asks, please don’t think I’m ignoring you! Most of the time I see it but I just don’t have the time [ at the moment ] to answer it.

I like to joke around a lot, including sometimes calling my friends swear words to joke around 😭 If you need tone tags or don’t like it, don’t be afraid to tell me! I’d rather drop the joking than be dropped as a friend.

DO NOT involve me or pull me into YOUR drama. That’s not something I want to have to deal with.

I stalk peoples accounts some most of the time 😭 you can and WILL catch me red handed

any notifications you get come from my “main” account, octopaii !!

DNI

basic dni criteria.

racism

zoophile

pedofile

supports Israel (🇮🇱)

ableist

pro-shipper

MAP’s

keiji x sara shippers [yttd , GTFO !! I h/c them as found family shush] [also pro ship]

shin x sou shippers [yttd , literally abuser x victim tf]

pro/com shippers

etc.

TAGS:

┌

🎥 ✮⋆˙NOW PLAYING — regular posting

‧₊˚🌿✩ ₊˚ GREEN WITH ENVY. — yan!character (or reader)

⋆˚ 💗˖° HEAD OVER HEELS! - fluff

⋆౨🎞️ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ PLAYBOY NOW PRESENTS... - smut

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･CRY ME A RIVER. - angst

└

updated: 09/29/24 , blinker by @ddenryu

[emetoniche]

I mean, geez, I was super young when it started for me. Like, really really young. Tw for trauma, sexual harassment, emeto, and my crazy rambling stories under the cut.

Basically, I think I was about five when I started watching those roller coaster vomiting videos on YouTube. I was obsessed with them; I even had favorites that I had memorized the exact title of so I could go back and watch them whenever I wanted. Or, rather, whenever I had access to a device with internet. Even back then at five or six I knew that this would probably not go over well with my parents, so I would always use incognito mode or delete my history after watching the stuff. It got to the point where seven-eight year old me would steal my mom’s phone/tablet/computer to watch this stuff.

Back then I thought I did it because I found it funny. Like, you know, “ha ha that idiot just puked all over himself what a dummy” kind of stuff. Anytime I would play doctor with someone I would discreetly try to get them to pretend to puke. When I played with my stuffed animals or my toys I would pretend to make them puke then comfort them about it. (We’re gonna ignore the fact that I was ‘married’ to a stuffed animal until I was about 16. I had no friends, okay? My parents moved way too much and I was homeschooled. But yeah, it was usually just that one stuffed animal puking.)

As a side note, I’ve been boy crazy since literally preschool. I had a crush on this little boy named Antonio in my preschool class cuz he brought live lobsters for show-and-tell and I thought that was, like, the coolest thing ever. It was like if I didn’t have a crush on somebody, I felt like I was missing something, some driving force. I was so desperate to be loved and cared for unconditionally that it started to get really unhealthy and I was using online methods. All of a sudden I was being taken advantage of, guys video calling me to jerk off while I just messed around with myself. (I’m like sixteen at this point.) Eventually I recognized what was happening and literally destroyed the tablet I was using. (Smashed against the wall till it snapped in half.) But this whole paragraph was just a side note to the whole comfort part of my emetophilia and why it’s so important to me. Back to the emetic stuff now.

Anyway, at about twelve I started looking up more detailed queries on YouTube. Instead of “vomiting on roller coaster,” I was looking up “hot guys puking,” “cute teen boys throwing up,” “hot teen guys vomiting in toilet,” etc. It got to the point where I realized that this probably wasn’t normal, by a long shot, but I was twelve. I had no idea what a kink even was. It wasn’t till sixteen that it finally clicked in my head that I thought puking was hot. Only with specific people in specific ways, but yeah. It was crazy hot. For me, the puking has to be done by a male, and one that I find attractive, and it has to be natural. No shame for people who like purposeful vomiting and vomiting during sex and stuff, but I’m just into the natural, actually sick stuff.

At first I thought it was just me. I was terrified because I didn’t realize that emetophilia was a thing. I just kept thinking that I was some sort of freak for having a puke kink. Until, that is, one day I searched for hot guys puking on straight up Google instead of YouTube. I was so fucking happy to find all of this crazy shit all over the place. Ao3 and tumblr and stuff just opened a whole new world for me. I didn’t make this tumblr account until after I turned 18, but I was reading the sickfics way before that.

Anyway, still have yet to find my man, still have yet to fulfill my dream of comforting a weak little sickie boy of my own, but imma get there. I hope anyway…

How long have you known you're into Emeto (question for the whole community)?

Warning: pretty much a whole life story under the cut. NONE OF THIS IS CLASSED AS BEING SEXUALISED! everything that happened was out of interest up until last year and by "last year" I mean December, I was already 18 by that point, if youre turned on by the other stuff that's on you please DNI

Because I know I've known since I was really young, like when I was little my friends and I would play with dolls ad a character would always get sick because I found it fascinating. It started to become part of all the games we played and I got worried people would find out that I thought it was cool, it was like a guilty pleasure. Around age 12, my friend wanted to get out of a field trip and asked if I knew any ways to get sick, I'd never tried any but I applied logic and told them they should Chug water until it bounces (it worked, I witnessed it, probably the strangest thing I've ever seen). It was age 13 I started getting into prank channels and fake puke, I'd act like I was vomiting and I'd watch other people on the Internet because it was fun, then I noticed I was way too invested in it, like I'd get mad if it wasn't realistic enough. It was probably when I was 15 when I started looking up why I was so obsessed with vomiting because I could barely sleep thinking about how strange I was, that's when I found all these posts online about "emetophilia". I denied it being a kink for months before I just gave in. It was at 16 when I really started experimenting, gagging myself, etc. I found out my friend had a whump thing and so we both experimented with stuffing until that got weird. I know it's gonna sound weird that we were doing that sort of stuff so young but we didn't sexualise it. Last year I got into a relationship with someone with the same kink as me, we used to gag each other and one time it led to them getting sick all down themself (it was all liquid so I didn't freak out) and since then it's sort of just spiralled for me.

[ivqks159]

Inktober day11: bones

(Edit: fixed some more details

[sarah-in-disguise]

Open It

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader (Knives Out AU - no murder here!)

Warnings: swear words, shouting, multiple medical terms and phrases (PCOS, cancer, mass, fertility, pregnancy, etc.), angst, fluff, soft!Ransom (at least with the reader).  Flashbacks in italics.

Summary: Over the course of a few short hours, your life flipped upside down.  Plans for yourself.  Your future with Ransom.  All the pieces you’d used to build a foundation for your future, blown away in the breeze.  What does your future look like now?  And, most importantly, will Ransom be in it?

Word Count: 3032

A/N: This story is very personal for me, but I know a lot of you here on Tumblr can relate.  It was a very cathartic process to write it all down and get it all out.  While I have a great support system of family and friends to help me through this situation (read more about what’s going on here), I can’t help but daydream and wonder how one of my favorite CE characters would react.  I love soft!Ransom, so I hope this delivered!

Disclaimer: I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third-party site or app.  This is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters in this story.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.  Moodboard picture sources are Google and Canva.

Make sure to check out my masterlist!

Numb.

You didn’t know any other word to describe how you were feeling right now.  Over the course of a few short hours, your life flipped upside down.  Plans for yourself.  Your future with Ransom.  All the pieces you’d used to build a foundation for your future, blown away in the breeze.

A few months ago, your PCOS started acting up.  This wasn’t all that uncommon - most people with PCOS noticed different symptoms every few years as their hormone levels changed.  Originally, your symptoms had been more of an inconvenience than anything else.  Long, heavy periods, an occasional migraine, a bit more facial hair.  Everything was easy to fix with a birth control pill and a mild hormone replacement pill that you took twice a day.

When you started seeing Ransom two years ago, you didn’t even mention it to him at first.  Ransom’s reputation clearly preceded himself, and neither of you were looking for anything serious.  A year into your relationship, you forced him to at least sit down and discuss where this was headed.  After admitting to each other that you’d never been happier, you set aside a few days for a long weekend getaway to discuss things further.

Surprisingly, both of you were open to marriage and to the idea of kids someday.  You also agreed that neither of you were ready for those steps anytime soon - you were both relatively young, and he didn’t want to rush in and have this relationship turn out like his toxic parents or other family members.  The only piece you were adamant about was that you wanted to be married before having kids, and Ransom didn’t have any problems with that, either.

He’d even given you his pinky ring that weekend as a promise ring of sorts, telling you to keep it until he had something more permanent for you in the future.

You’d brought up your PCOS that weekend, and even after talking about how it might impact your fertility someday, Ransom assured you it wasn’t an issue.  In his words, “I’ve got money if we need to go down that road, sweet girl.  Don’t worry about it”

And you hadn’t, until a few hours ago.

When you went in for your yearly checkup with your OBGYN last month, you’d brought up a few new symptoms you had experienced.  Again, this wasn’t uncommon to have changing symptoms as you got older, so your doctor ordered a few tests to see what was up.  “Just a formality,” she explained.  “It will help us rule a few things out so we know what our next steps should be.”

Except this morning, you found out that the tests didn’t rule anything out.  Instead, they found the culprit - a softball-sized mass on one of your ovaries.

The good news was that it wasn’t likely cancerous, but they would biopsy it when it was removed just to make sure.

The bad news was…more complicated.

“Since you have history on both sides of your family of endometrial and ovarian cancer, plus you have history in your family of getting cancer at an early age, I strongly recommend you get a full hysterectomy in the next two to three years.”

Your mind was swimming with information and everything was coming at you so fast, but the only response suitable for this situation was simple.

“What?”

With a look of sympathy, your doctor continued.  “I know we’d discussed how your PCOS would work with your future plans for having kids in five or six years, but based on how fast this mass came up, I’m strongly suggesting we move that plan up if we can.  There’s just too much risk waiting around a few extra years when they will likely lead to another mass and a high risk for cancer.”

“Oh.”  Looking down at your hands, you nervously start fiddling with Ransom’s pinky ring.  It was a nervous habit of yours - one Ransom learned soon after he gave you that ring.  Unfortunately, Ransom wasn’t there to notice.

Sitting on your bed, you were still twisting that ring around your finger.  Ransom would be home soon, and you still didn’t have any idea how you were going to tell him.  Sure, he knew you were going into the doctor, but you were both expecting this to be a minor appointment.  An adjustment to a medication.  Maybe even a few more tests to narrow results down.

Not a softball-sized mass and a hysterectomy in two or three years, effectively cutting your timeline for marriage and kids in half.

While you should be worrying about your health, you were more concerned with how Ransom would react.  What if he wasn’t ready for this timeline?  Would he want to take kids off the table?  If he was stuck on the timeline and didn’t want to give up kids, how did you fit in that future?

After all this, do you even fit at all?

When you left your doctor’s office, those thoughts were a mere whisper.  You knew Ransom, and you were just starting to convince yourself that there was nothing to worry about.

That is until you ran into Linda on the way out to your car.

Exiting the medical plaza, you sit down on a bench outside the front entrance, close your eyes, and take a deep breath.  You want to call Ransom, but you know he is in a meeting with a potential new author he and Harlan wanted to bring into Blood Like Wine.  He’d drop the meeting for you in a heartbeat, but after a few more deep breaths, you convince yourself you can wait until he gets home.

Fate, however, wanted to throw you one last curveball.

Standing up, you start walking to your car.  As you dig in your purse for your keys, you accidentally bump into someone, causing your appointment notes and surgery details to scatter on the ground.

“Excuse me!  Do you not have eyes?  Do you know who I am?”  You knew that disgusted voice anywhere.

Linda.

Before you even think about collecting the paper scattered around you, you muster up a small smile and look up at Ransom’s mother.

“I’m so sorry, Linda.  I wasn’t paying attention and I was looking for my keys.”

“Oh, it’s you.”  As you start collecting your paperwork, Linda continues.  “You look like shit.”

Huffing out a laugh, you continue stuffing papers into your folder.  Ransom’s parents, especially Linda, made it very clear from the beginning that they didn’t approve of you.  Unlike the endless line of women Linda paraded in front of her only son, you didn’t have a wealthy, well-known family to fall back on.

What you did have was your education, a stable job, and parents who actually loved you - but that didn’t matter to Richard and Linda.

Just then, a breeze came and caused your last piece of paper to take flight.  Before it could get too far, Linda used her designer shoe to stomp it to the ground.  As you were reaching for it, the paper was snatched up in Linda’s eager hands.

“What even has you so preoccupied that you can’t -”

At Linda’s abrupt stop, your face pales.  Your mind scrambles as you stand up.  Trying to figure out what piece of paper she managed to snatch up, all thoughts stop as she starts laughing.

Your heart sinks as you confirm your fears, spotting your appointment summary sheet in her hands.

After a few seconds, her laughter dies down.  Throwing the paper in your direction, you catch it as she leaves her parting words.

“Ransom was so blind before, but he won’t be able to ignore this.  The only reason he’s kept you around is to warm his bed and pop out a few kids when the time comes.  Now that you can’t even do that, maybe he’ll see you for what you really are.  Worthless.”

Worthless.

That’s the word your mind was playing on repeat as you sat on your bed, spinning that ring round and round.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the front door slam shut or Ransom’s loud footsteps as they climbed the stairs to your shared bedroom.  In fact, you didn’t register anything until your own bedroom door was thrown open, colliding with the wall behind it.  Ransom quickly started to pace the room, mumbling incoherent thoughts under his breath.  From previous experience, you knew it was best to let him pace and blow off some steam - but you had too much swimming around in your head to remember that today.

“Ran, are you OK?”

Stopping dead in his tracks, he spins to look at you before shouting, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M OK TO YOU?!”

The next events were ones you’d seen early on in your relationship, long before you knew it was best to let him pace and calm himself down.  If you let him do that, he’d eventually come to you in an hour or so to calmly discuss his frustrations.  If you didn’t let him do that, he often screamed and shouted at whoever was closest and would listen.

Today, that person was you.

“There we were, Harlan and I, meeting with this new author.  Everything was going well until Walt walked in and fucked everything up.  We almost had the contract finalized before that shithead waltzed in and started bitching about terms of the deal he didn’t even have any fucking say over.  Can you believe it?”

On a normal day, you knew whatever Ransom mumbled under his breath wasn’t directed at you.

Unfortunately, today wasn’t normal.

“What a worthless piece of shit.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at Ransom.  There’s that word again.  Worthless.  Using the little strength you have left, you look at him and whisper, “what?”

Huffing, he turns to look at you before yelling, “I said, WHAT A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!”

Faster than your mind can think, your legs carry you to the bathroom.  Slamming and locking the door behind you, you collapse to the hard tile as the first sob rips from your chest.  

Slowly, Ransom recovers from the initial shock of your reaction and rushes to the bathroom door.  Jiggling the handle, he swears under his breath.

“Kitten?  I’m sorry for yelling, sweet girl.  Can you open up the door for me?”  You can’t even hear him over your sobs.

Over the next few minutes, your crying dies down and you finally hear Ransom apologizing and asking you to open the door.  Standing up, you scoff at your tear-stained face and puffy eyes in the mirror, but it’s too late to do anything about that now.  Slowly, you walk over to the door and open it up, meeting a very concerned Ransom.

Instantly, you’re wrapped in his strong arms, causing the tears to start again.  When he starts pressing kisses to your hair, you wrap your own arms around his abdomen and hang on for dear life.  Eventually, he picks you up bridal style and sits down on the bed, settling you on his lap.  After a few more minutes holding each other in silence, he clears his throat and tips your eyes up to meet his.

“I’m so sorry, kitten.  There’s no excuse for blowing up at you like that.  You don’t deserve to be treated like that by anyone, let alone me.”

Sensing his regret, you start apologizing as well.  “It’s OK, Ransom.  You have every right to be frustrated, and I’m usually better about reading the situation and knowing when to leave you alone to calm down.  I should’ve just walked away when you came in.  It’s just,” sighing, you look down at your hands and start spinning Ransom's ring.  “I’ve got too many other things to think about today.”

After a few seconds, Ransom places one large hand over yours to stop your spinning.  Using his other hand to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, he responds.

“Stop apologizing, sweet girl.  You did nothing wrong.  Now,” lifting your hand up, he places a kiss on his ring.  “You’ve been spinning this ring since I got home.  What’s wrong?”

Looking down at your linked hands, you answer.  “Did you remember that I had my follow up appointment with my OBGYN today?”

“Yeah, you mentioned that this morning.  What did your doctor say?”

You take a deep breath and let it out and take a moment to study his perfectly blue eyes before you continue.  “They found a mass on one of my ovaries.”

Ransom, for once in his life, is speechless.

Taking his silence as an opportunity to continue, you push on.  “It’s about the size of a softball, and they’re going to have to surgically remove it and the ovary in a few weeks.  They don’t think it’s cancer, but they’ll do a biopsy after surgery to make sure.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ransom smiles and kisses you on your forehead.  “Hey, we can get through this, kitten.  Surgery isn’t great, but at least the outcome looks good, right?”

Tears start brimming your eyes again and you force yourself to look away from his excited features.  Once again, his hands stop yours from twirling his ring.  This time, he doesn’t immediately make you look up at him.

“What else is it?”

A few tears roll down your cheeks, but Ransom turns your face towards his to cup your cheeks and wipe them away.  “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”  Pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss, he pulls back.  “I promise.”

Bracing for the worst and hoping for the best, you start the harder half of the conversation.

“Do you remember that trip we took last year when we talked about the future?  Like if we were open to marriage, kids, stuff like that?”

“Of course, I do.”  It was Ransom’s turn to start fiddling with the ring on your finger.  “That’s the trip that I gave you my ring.”

For a brief moment, you catch yourself smiling at the memory.  Unfortunately, just as quick as the smile came, it fades away.

“What I’m about to tell you is going to throw a wrench in those plans, Ransom, and I want you to know that I understand if this is a dealbreaker for you.  If things are moving too fast and you want someone else who fits the plan we agreed on, I’ll completely understand…”

“KITTEN!”  You flinch at Ransom’s sudden outburst, but he’s quick to apologize.  “Sorry, but you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.  This talking in circles isn’t helping anyone.”

Welp, you think.  Here goes nothing.

“Since I have a history of endometrial and ovarian cancer on both sides of my family, my doctor is strongly recommending I get a hysterectomy in the next few years.”

You’re met with silence as Ransom processes through this new information.

“How many years is a few years?”

“Two, maybe three.  I don’t think you know this, but I’ve had two female cousins and one aunt get cancer before they turned 30.  Because of that, she’s concerned I’ll get cancer at a young age, too.  I can’t get ovarian or endometrial cancer if I don’t have those parts inside me anymore, so the sooner I get rid of them, the better.  Ultimately, if I want a chance at carrying my own biological children, I need to start trying now.”

Immediately and without any explanation, Ransom dumps you off his lap, gets off the bed, and walks directly into his closet.  You jump when you hear a drawer slam, but before you can fully react, Ransom’s back at the bed.  Pulling you to sit on the edge, he drops down on one knee in front of you.

Tears fill your eyes as he shows you the ring box in his hand.

“You’ve had to do a lot of talking today, sweet girl, so it’s only fair I get to talk for a while, OK?”

Nodding your head up and down, he smiles.

“Even though we decided on that trip last year we were going to wait and take our time before getting engaged, I knew you were the one.  The day after we got back, I contacted our jeweler so we had plenty of time to design the perfect engagement ring.  After sending in some pictures of your jewelry and giving some input of my own, we came up with this.”  Lifting the closed box up a few inches, he continued.

“The minute I saw it, I immediately knew this ring was meant for this finger.”  Picking up your hand, he placed a light kiss on your left ring finger.  “I knew right then and there I was ready to marry you.  Hell, I’ve almost proposed twice in the last few months, but I knew we had a plan - and I know you well enough by now that once you make a plan, you stick to it.  But you know what I think?”

“What?”

With a smug grin, he responds.  “I think this is the universe’s way of telling our plan to fuck off.”

For the first time all day, you release a full blown laugh - and the smile on Ransom’s face couldn’t get any bigger.

“We can get married today, we can get married next month, or we could wait ten years.  No matter when it happens, I know for a fact that I’ll always choose you.  So, we can throw our plans out the window or I can put this box away and save it for a few years down the road.  Either way, I’ll always end up with you, sweet girl.  So, what do you say?  Am I opening this or not?”

Without thinking, you pull Ransom’s face to yours and devour his lips with an eager kiss.  Tangling your hands in his hair to pull him closer, he wraps his arms around your waist to draw you in.  Your body buzzes from the passion and lack of air, and soon you’re forced to break apart to breathe.

It isn’t a hard decision, so why wait?

“Open it.”

[ynscrazylife]

hi!! may i request hermione granger taking care of reader after reader gets injured from quidditch practice or a magic lesson gone wrong? thank you!!

The Warrior and the Knight  | h.g fluff fic

Summary: After getting hurt during Quidditch Practice, Hermione becomes a doctor for her girlfriend.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! I’m so excited to write for Harry Potter again.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Harry Potter Masterlist |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/byblackswan

Hermione Granger usually wasn’t a big fan of Quidditch. The crammed crowds, loud cheering, and especially the competitiveness stirring inside her and how disappointed she got when the opposite team scored against Gryffindor. She had been to far too many games of Harry’s for her liking and she did like seeing her friend play, but couldn’t deny the longing to be curled up in her dorm, reading.

That all changed when her girlfriend came along.

Hermione had met Y/N when she was coming to get Harry from practice so they could go to Hogsmeade one day. Y/N was their age but new to the team, playing as a chaser. She was immediately enchanted by the girl and found herself a blushing, blubbering mess. It didn’t take Harry too long to connect the dots and soon, he set them up to date, and they did.

Being with Y/N made Hermione incredibly happy. She quickly fell in love and wasn’t afraid, because Y/N had a tendency to calm her nerves and fill her with some courage instead.

Hermione found herself getting more and more eager at games, doing her best to keep her eyes on her girlfriend and how she zoomed every which way. Her cheers got louder. Her signs for Y/N and Harry (but mostly for Y/N) got bigger. And she truly enjoyed being a fan of Quidditch.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising to see Hermione climbing up the stands to sit at the Gryffindor’s team practice to watch. They had planned to go on a date afterwards, but Hermione finished her book and wanted to just see her girlfriend in all her glory and awe.

Her gaze immediately zeroed in on the fifth year in the Gryffindor jersey that was too big for her and watched as she zipped around. One second she had the Quaffle and the next it was soaring through the air to her teammate. Hermione smiled when her teammate caught it and scored. 

The game continued on with Y/N having little mistakes. She was dominating the field and Hermione was so captivated that she didn’t notice the Ravenclaw in the stands, wand out and muttering under his breath, focussing on the game, definitely for a different reason and not to watch the players, well, play.

After the Quaffle soared through the hoop again, the team’s keeper flew down, got it, and threw it back. Y/N, being the closest, went to get it but her broom decided to disobey her. When she tried to go down to catch the underhanded through, the broom jerked her upwards. She tried again but this time she was jerked to the side. Hermione began to notice and she frowned in concern while Harry, who was on the field, tried to fly over to her. 

In the amount of time that it took him, though, the broom was going even more wild. Y/N could tell that this wasn’t going to lighten up anytime soon and at this rate, it’d be near impossible for her to safely get onto another teammate’s broom. Making a quick decision, she decided to take matters into her own hands and, in an attempt to gain some control, directed her broom downwards. 

The jerking all about was starting to make Y/N dizzy, but she didn’t give up. It took longer than it normally would but finally, when Y/N was closer to the ground (and when she was trying to block out all her teammates’ words because she had to concentrate), the broom went even more wild. She wasn’t at the height she wanted to be and when she tried to go down even further, the broom sped up, causing her to crash into the ground. Y/N rolled forward and the broom’s end managed to stab her in her stomach, but the momentum she had caused her to roll to the side, breaking off from the broom, onto the grass. 

In a matter of seconds, the Gryffindor players had landed and Hermione was making her way onto the field as fast as she could. Harry was scanning the crowd, trying to figure out the source of this, but the other players all went to Y/N, trying to help her. Once Hermione got there, her protective instincts kicked in and she pushed them out of the way, not trusting them with healing spells. 

“Hey, hey,” Hermione tried to comfort Y/N, whose face was scrunched up in pain, in a soft voice which she usually didn’t have. “You’re gonna be okay, yeah? I’m gonna take you to Madam Pomfrey.” She pressed her hand against Y/N’s stomach. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t too deep, but it still hurt. 

“Madam Pomfrey can’t help. At least, not right now. I passed the Hospital Wing on my way over to practice - it’s filled with students with that nasty cold,” one of the Gryffindor chasers told the brunette. 

Hermione cursed under her breath but gave Y/N a smile, wanting to be strong for her. “Harry!” She called her friend over. “Help me get Y/N to my dorm. I’m at least competent in the practice of healing spells. I’ll help her out.” 

Harry nodded and they both helped Y/N walk to the dorm since she had also hurt her ankle. When they got there, Hermione stepped into the leader role. She got Y/N comfy on her bed and ordered Harry to get all the healing books he could from the library. After he left, she grabbed her wand and went to jump into action, but Y/N grabbed her hand softly, making Hermione pause, at first worried that something was wrong, and went to go ask all the questions until-

“Hey,” Y/N said, her voice gentle, gaze full of adoration. “Take a deep breath.”

Hermione shook her head. “You’re hurt - there’s no time.” 

Y/N just shrugged. “I’ll be okay . . . I just wanted to say, I’m glad you were at the practice today, and not just because I’m hurt,” she said. 

Hermione smiled, allowing herself to relax for a couple moments. “I’ll always be here for you, I hope you know that,” she replied, kissing Y/N’s forehead before taking a deep breath like her girlfriend told her to. She then straightened up and brought her wand out, healing her ankle (though it took a few tries) first.

Afterwards, she dealt with Y/N’s stomach wound. It wasn’t that bad, but she didn’t want it to get worse, which is why, after she used a spell to stop and clean the blood, she washed out the wound the Muggle way. Then, she conjured some bandages and bandaged her up tightly. 

“My warrior,” Hermione said as she got into the bed also, slipping under the covers. 

Y/N chuckled and leaned her head against Hermione’s shoulder. “My knight in shining armor,” she replied.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @cc13723things

Harry Potter Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @okkulta @marauderenergy @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @mads-weasley @afraid-to-be-me @lilymurphy03

[angelbutterfly-writes]

Hi! This is the first time I'm posting a Chenford fic on tumblr. Usually, I'd post these on AO3 but I wanted to see how it would look like on tumblr because I've never tried it before.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

-----

"Officer Chen!" Tim's barely put the shop in park when he races up to her, giving her a once over, before zeroing his gaze on her bandaged arm.

"Sergeant Bradford." She groans, sparing him a sheepish grin as she closes the gap. "How are you doin-"

"Cut the crap." He orders as he pulls her to him, raising her arm for inspection. Frantic fingers twitch against her bare skin as he restrains himself from peeling off the bandage. "What happened?"

"You know. The same old, same old." Shrugging, she suppresses a wince as he pokes at a particularly tender spot. "A routine welfare check just went south."

"Uh huh." He takes her by the arm, leading her to his shop. "Harper, you're riding with your Boot for the rest of the day. I'm taking Chen to Shaw Memorial to get that arm checked out."

"What?! Tim. No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He sends her a stern glare. "Get in, or I'm putting you on desk duty for the rest of the week."

"Yes, sir." She ducks into the shop, glancing at her partner for the week before settling herself in the passenger seat.

"Stay safe out there." He nods at the detective and her boot.

"Well, that could have gone worse." Nyla turns to face the new officer. "What was that look about?"

"What look?"

"Chen gave you a look before entering the shop." Harper tells him sternly, looking him in the eyes. "What happened?"

"We got dispatched to a welfare check on Mr Harrington. But when we got there, no one answered the door. So Officer Chen bust the door in, and we started clearing the house." His lips purse as he tries to find a way to phrase what happened next.

"Master bedroom. Clear!" He hears her shout from somewhere to his left as his eyes sweep the hall.

"Hallway. Cle-"

"I don't know where he came from or why I didn't see him but he just suddenly appeared behind me." Thorsen takes a breath.

"Aah!" He screams as he's tackled to the floor, a man rolling with him as they tussle.  Arms worm their way above him and he struggles to keep his own up. He can't let him get on top of him. He can't let him get a hold of his-

"He snatched my gun right out of my hands and was ready to put one in me when Officer Chen pulled me away.

"And she got shot." Nyla finishes for him.

"Just a graze." He corrects her.

"Mmhmm." Shaking her head, she ushers him towards their shop, eyeing the man cuffed to the backseat.

"What?"

"You're lucky it's just a graze." Nyla laughs to herself. "Sergeant Bradford doesn't take too well to Officer Chen getting hurt on the job. And believe me when I say this, you have not seen him at his worst yet."

"Better make sure your report on this is spotless because you are going to be on his radar for a long time." She warns him. "And don't think you're going to be riding with Officer Chen again anytime soon."

"Why?" He asks her over the top of their shop. "Are they... together or something?"

"It's complicated." She sends him a smile before taking the wheel, looking at their prep through the rear-view mirror. "Better believe you're in it for the long haul after this, Mr Harrington."

~~ A few miles away ~~

"It's just a graze, Tim!" She yells as he nudges her into a room, already beginning to fill out the paperwork for her as they wait for a doctor. "And it's been field dressed. I'm fine to go back on patrol."

"It's still bleeding." He stresses. "And who helped you field dress it? The boot?"

"Officer Aaron Thorsen is more than capable of applying a simple dressing." Her eyes roll as she stares him down, bitting her lip to hold back a wince as she pulls at the wound. "But no, I did it myself. You know I'm a big girl. I can patch up my own booboos."

"I know, but... Just humour me." His face softens, setting down the clipboard beside her. "Please, Lucy."

His tone is pleading, a hand reaching for the bandage while the other cups her cheek. Gently, he strokes around it, his fingers tracing the tape, only stopping when he hears her hiss.

"You ok?"

"Fine." She settles herself onto the bench, arms crossed over her chest as she watches the door. "But you're taking me out for veggie burgers after this. I haven't had lunch yet and I'm hungry."

"Whatever you want, Lucy."

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Thank you so much for reading, and if you liked this one, feel free to check out some of my other stories on AO3.