#I simply do not have the heart to write something so very sad LOL

[bbuzz28]

Memories

Old man Fiddlestan, my beloved-and what's this? It could be semi-canon compliant :O ?!?! Woof- this is one of the saddest things I have ever written. I know some of you gremlins (affectionate) love that sort of thing, but I don't. I like really really don't. This is my comfort ship, so I don't even know where this came from other than trying to figure out how they *could* work in canon. Truthfully though, I prefer my Fiddlestan heavy on the comfort when it comes to the "hurt/comfort" genre. This is my only “angsty” (i.e. no immediate happy ending) Notes-app fics, so don't get used to this level of sad from me lol.

“Stan?” an oddly familiar voice called. Mr. Mystery, Stan Pines, glanced up from the flyers he was organizing and found that Old Man McGucket stood in the doorway of his front door. The last tour of the day had just left, it was dinnertime, and he was exhausted. Stan rolled his eyes as he unfurled his tie, wishing Soos was still there to escort the crazy old man off his property. No matter what he did, the old hillbilly always managed to find his way back to the Shack. “Sweet Moses McSuckit, what are you doing in here? Shoo, scat, or whateva will get rid of ya.” Hearing no movement, he looked at the man again and found he was standing erect. His blue eyes were the clearest he had seen them in no less than a decade.

          Wait, what did he call- oh. Oh no.

“Stan…ley? Did I…did I do somethin’ wrong?” the other man asked, his hands twisted in knots in front of him. Memories flashed through Stan’s mind; Ford falling through the portal, Fiddleford finding him passed out in the lab, working together to bring Ford home again…being together. Being happy. They had been happy, if just for a little while, hadn’t they?

Then there was the cult, and his discovery of the damn memory gun that had finally ruined everything they ever built. He took a hesitant step forward, a thousand thoughts roaring in his mind at once. “Fidds? Wha-what do you remember?” A bandaged hand snaked up and rubbed over the faded scar on the side of his head “I…don’t rightly know. Did we…I think we had a fight? I just woke up in the…in the dump. N’ I don’t have any shoes. Do ya know why my arm is in a cast?” Fiddleford looked so lost.

Stan knew in his heart that all of this was fleeting- “clarity” would hit Fiddleford every few years after he had finally wiped his mind of himself. Almost like his brain was trying to jumpstart itself back together. The first time they thought it was a miracle but…it didn’t last. It just started a trend that would follow them both for the next almost thirty years. Fiddleford would seemingly “wake up” and be lucid for a few weeks in the beginning, then eventually only a matter of days. It had been so long since the last time that Stan would wager, they only had maybe a few hours together if he was lucky.

The last time Fiddleford was himself…they had fought. Stanley thought he had figured the only way Fiddleford could stay; he needed to remember. Remember everything he had ever forgotten. At the time, Fiddleford had been unwilling to try. He didn’t think he could handle it; he knew he had forgotten what he had for a reason.

Stanley had gotten as close to begging as he ever had in his life since surviving Tijuanna, and when it had no effect…Stanley had told Fiddleford to leave and never come back. He had left that night, and by the next day he had faded away again. After a while, Stan thought his last words had been the final nail in the coffin that was Fiddleford’s mind. He carried that weight along with every other mistake he had ever made. But here he was. Fiddleford. His Fiddleford.

He took a deep breath before he opened his arms up. “Hey, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here.” Fiddleford rushed through the doorway, melting into Stanley’s open arms. “I went away again, didn’t I?” Stan could feel Fiddleford’s tears soaking into his chest, his own whispering at the edges of his eyes. Yes, and you will leave again. You will leave me and I will be alone all over again, you fucking asshole. “Hey cowboy, didn’t I just say not t’ worry about any a’ that? You’re here now, n' that’s what matters. You’re…you’re home.” A haggard laugh vibrated through the smaller man’s chest into Stanley’s own. “I know I keep tellin’ ya, tellin’ me not t’ worry is like” “…tellin’ a fish t’ stop swimmin’; I know Fidds, I know.” Fuck was really the only conscious thought that went through his head as he held his one-time lover. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, again.

Fiddleford looked up, eyes wide and searching Stan’s face. “How long do ya think we have?” Stan shook his head, unwilling to lie even if it eventually wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t remember. You’ve always been the only person I couldn’t lie to. “I dunno, it’s been…a while. Probably not very long.” Fiddleford closed his eyes before he said “I need ya t’ know somethin’, Stanley.” Stan started to shake his head. “Fidds, you don’t have t-” The look on the other man’s face shut Stan right up-he had always had that ability. Stan wished he didn’t miss it as much as he did. “I need ya to know that even when I’m not here…I miss you. The part of me that’s somewhere in here-” A weathered hand tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point “ misses you. I’m just so sorry, Stanley. Sorry that I’m a coward. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to be here all the time…but I’ll never stop tryin’. I’ll always try n’ come home to ya.”

Stan thought of the thousands of times he had chased Old Man McGucket, the neat little character that Stan had to compartmentalize his Fiddleford into when he wasn’t himself, out of the Shack. How many times he had found him curled up like a cat on the back porch. How every time they “met”, McGucket would say how nice Stan was or how good he felt to be around him “for some reason.” How many odds and ends McGucket would gift Stan from the dump for exhibits at the Mystery Shack with a large smile and nothing substantial behind his eyes.

It would be so much easier if he would stop trying to come back. Maybe the hole in Stan’s heart the size of the sweet, certifiably insane man would scab over. How many times had Stanley mourned him? How many times was he willing to hurt himself? They were now nearing their sixties, how long was he really willing to do this song and dance?

What’s one more time? he softly thought, his hand coming up to tenderly cup the grizzled face of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Mad scientist, friend, and unfortunately for them both…the love of his life.

“I miss you too, Fidds.”

[tohruies]

a realisation that home was here. home was now. and it had been all along … 🥺💘

— ☆ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

alhaitham x ryu. this is obviously a selfship piece for ryuhaitham and it’s in first person. canon au. comfort. fluff. read here if you want more context on us. 0.7k wc

I sat curled on the couch with a blanket drawn tightly around me, staring at the modest decorations I’d strung up days ago when Alhaitham first left for Akademiya business. The lights, the strings of ribbon—they felt out of place here, like foreign embellishments in a world that had no meaning for them.

Christmas. Once upon a time, it had been everywhere—woven into every light, every note of music, every breath of winter air. It wasn’t as though I’d celebrated Christmas extravagantly but the absence of it here made the ache of displacement settle heavy in my chest. Even if I’d only half-participated in the holiday back then, its laughter and warmth had always been a comforting constant.

Teyvat moved without pause. The winds of Mondstadt whipped across snow-buried plains, Sumeru’s ever-shifting leaves played on the breeze and Liyue’s lanterns flickered against a fading sky. It was timeless and unchanging, as if the universe was indifferent to the celebration I longed for. But like the decorations I’d strung up, Christmas had no place here. And in that knowledge, my homesickness deepened, the distance between my old world and this one stretching farther.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I startled, my gaze snapped to the figure entering. Alhaitham’s silhouette was outlined against the dim light of Teyvat’s evening and in his hand was a small neatly wrapped package, the paper a rich shade of crimson, tied with thin, silver silk that shimmered softly in the light.

“You’re back,” I mustered, rising slightly from my seat.

“I am,” His gaze swept over me, and a crease formed between his brows. “You look troubled.”

I offered a fragile smile, “Just thinking about… you know.” I trailed off, eyes drifting to the window where whimsy unbeknownst to me twinkled in the inky expanse above.

Without preamble, he extended the gift toward me. “Here.”

I blinked in surprise, looking from his hand to his face. “What’s this for?”

“Isn’t it customary to exchange gifts for… Christmas?”

The word fell from his lips tentatively, as though testing its weight. His eyes searched mine for any sign that he had mispronounced it. Then, a bittersweet ache unfurled in my chest.

“You… remembered?”

He remembered. Even in passing, even if I hadn’t explained it in detail, he had remembered. And more than that, he had acted on it.

“You mentioned it once,” he replied, the faintest hint of awkwardness colouring his tone. “I don’t fully understand the tradition, but it seemed important to you.” He paused, then added softly, “I thought it might remind you of home.”

My fingers brushed the wrapping paper, tracing its edges as a quiet laugh escaped me. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It matters to you. If it makes this place feel less foreign, then it’s no trouble at all.” He spoke as though his sentiment was the simplest truth in the world.

I bit my lip, his words filling the emptiness in my heart like the flickering flame of a candle in the dark. Slowly, I unwrapped the gift, the paper falling away to reveal a delicate glass ornament, its shape a perfect, crystalline star. It caught the lamplight, scattering prisms across the room like a reflection of something celestial—like fragments of a distant sky.

“It’s not much,” he almost sounded apologetic, “but stars seem to hold significance in your world’s imagery for this holiday.”

I stared down at the gift, my vision blurring as the sting of tears welled unexpectedly. The ornament trembled in my grasp, held close to my chest as the first drops slipped free, unstoppable. “Thank you,” I whispered, so softly it felt like the words might dissolve and me with it.

Watching me closely, a shadow of concern crossed his face, as though uncertain whether he had made me uncomfortable. “You’re crying…” His voice wavered, caught somewhere between a statement and a question.

I wiped at my tears, smiling through them. “They’re happy tears,” I told him. “I really needed this.”

Alhaitham sat beside me with the same calmness that defined his every action. The silence now brimmed with a bubbling warmth, deeply felt like a steadfast anchor.

“If you’d like,” he started, “then we’ll celebrate it. Here, every year. However you wish.”

His offer settled gently. “I would like that,” I said, already untethered.

Alhaitham nodded, brushing his hands against mine, the touch so tender it seemed to carry a promise with a three word phrase hanging in the air. As the glass star shimmered between us, the ache of homesickness began to ebb. In its place bloomed a sense of belonging.

A realisation that home was here. Home was now. And it had been all along.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider: @/adornedwithlight

[misc-obeyme]

not sure if this one has been done before but i'd like to request a set of headcanons for the dateables who assumed mc (male or gender neutral, up to you!) had feelings for someone else, and had already given up, right up until they confessed that they were in love with them.

also, can solomon's be set during nightbringer? i don't mind when the others are set!

thank you! i love your writing!!

Hi there, anon!

This may have been done, but it hasn't been done by me, so you're good lol! Oh man this one was fun. They all start out angsty and then end with the confession and I love it. I have to write angst more often, apparently I enjoy making characters feel pain. Which is weird considering I made myself sad writing these. I kind of feel like this might just be the universal writer experience, though.

Also I feel I should mention that Diavolo believes MC is in love with Lucifer because I honestly feel like that's the only scenario in which he would completely give up lol. Everybody else's is vague, but they all think it's one of the brothers.

Thank you for the request!

the dateables think GN!MC is in love with someone else and give up on them, but then MC confesses

Warnings: angst as all the characters believe that MC is in love with someone else, but ends with fluff

Diavolo

He can tell that there's someone you care about. It's in the way you sometimes get a private sort of look, like you're thinking about something very specific, and then you smile softly. Seeing that smile makes his heart ache. He's so happy that there's someone who makes you feel that way, someone who makes you smile like that, but he's fairly certain it isn't him. The pain of knowing that you'll never be his is deep. It keeps him up at night, but he tries to act like there's nothing wrong.

He thinks you're in love with Lucifer. He can't deny that there's something special between the two of you. And he's convinced that Lucifer is the only one that you could be in love with. Lucifer is protective, competent, and always looking out for you. You rely on him, but he relies on you, too, more than he would admit. And Diavolo simply doesn't have that closeness with you.

He thinks he's being very realistic about the situation. There's no point in pursuing you when your heart clearly belongs to someone else. Convinces himself that he's happy enough just to be near you, to be in your presence. Sometimes lets himself feel jealousy over it, but works hard to suppress that feeling. Actively tries to move on because he has responsibilities he needs to focus on.

So when you confess to him, he's in shock. Actually speechless for several minutes. And then he grabs your hands. MC, are you sure? Are you sure you're in love… with him? You won't have to reassure him more than once. As soon as you tell him you're sure, he's accepted what you've told him. Gets teary eyed about it because the feeling in his chest is so overwhelming. He never thought this could happen, but here you are, telling him that you're in love with him. All he wants to do now is kiss you. You've made him so happy he can't think straight.

Barbatos

He knows right away that you've fallen for someone. He's observant, so it isn't hard for him to pick up on it. It's obvious in the way you get a little preoccupied sometimes. You become a little forgetful and scatterbrained, like your mind is somewhere else. But you also seem a little happier, quicker to smile and laugh. What an odd feeling for him. Seeing you like this fills him with a special contentment. And yet…

Barbatos doesn't necessarily know who it is you have feelings for. At least, there's nobody he suspects is your special person. He just knows it isn't him. He's convinced that he would be able to tell if it was. Sometimes thinks about who it might be and has certain others that he thinks would be a good fit for you, but he doesn't dwell on this too much. Busies himself with his work so he doesn't have to think about that little sting he feels whenever he thinks about it.

A master at compartmentalizing his mind and feelings so that he doesn't have to deal with them. Simply tucks all that away into a corner of his soul where he can ignore it entirely. Let it stay there and fester for a bit. He has more important things to deal with than his own silly feelings. And so nobody would be able to tell - not you, not Diavolo, no one. He has a lot of practice at keeping secrets, after all.

But all of that is going to come bursting out of its restraint when you tell him how you feel. Blushes instantly. Overcome, overwhelmed, flooded with the emotions he'd been keeping locked up tight. You can see the chaos in his eyes. But he takes control of all of this pretty quickly. Pulls you close to him, wraps you in his arms. Truly you may never know the extent of his happiness, MC. Please always stay by his side.

Simeon

It isn't so much that he doesn't notice as he just assumes he's wrong. There's definitely something different about you lately, but he's not going to guess at what it is. Probably asks you directly if there's anything on your mind. Considering you're likely not ready to tell him how you feel, you can pretty much say anything about what's going on in your life and he'll accept it. Moves on without too much questioning, but keeps an eye on you.

Eventually, he won't be able to deny it. He's going to have a specific demon brother in mind, too. He watches you with that brother, whichever one you're closest to, and thinks he's figured it out. Even though you didn't tell him you were in love when he asked and he knows it's not a good thing to assume, he still can't help but notice it. The way you smile when that brother speaks to you. The way you seem to drift near him whenever you can.

And if Simeon takes the time to consider this for very long at all, he'll realize that the feeling that bubbles up in him first is jealousy. He's not happy about that. He doesn't like the way it makes him feel. And just underneath it, he senses a deep pain that he doesn't want to explore. So he attempts to shut it all down. He's very good at maintaining his composure when he's with you. But when he's alone, he lets himself feel everything. Might even let himself cry if he's certain no one will hear him.

Definitely cries when you tell him how you really feel. Just lets that relief wash over him and his love for you is something he can't contain. Please hold him, MC. He just wants to be near you forever. Never let him go. He might ramble for a little bit about how he thought you were in love with someone else. He might even tell you all about how it made him feel and how he wasn't dealing with it very well. But in the end, he's going to smile at you through his tears. Really make his heart burst by kissing them away.

Solomon

He's always known that you belong to the seven demon brothers. He knows him having a chance with you is just wishful thinking. It doesn't matter that you live with him now. That he's the only one who knows that you're really from the future. It doesn't matter how fast his heart beats whenever he sees your smile. That when he's with you all he can think about is putting his arms around you. Solomon knows you aren't his. You will always choose the brothers.

He's aware right away that you've got feelings for someone. He has his guesses. Perhaps two or three different demon brothers come to his mind. Starts paying attention to how you act around them to see if he can figure it out. He will question the brothers he suspects, just to see how they feel about you. If they give him less than satisfactory answers, he might try to steer you away from them. Not because he thinks that makes you more likely to choose him, but because he doesn't want to see you get hurt.

Ignores the way your softened expression makes his gut twinge. Sometimes stares at you for too long because he's trying so hard not to say something to you about it. He doesn't ask you because he knows he can't handle the answer. Starts throwing himself into his work. Forcing himself to think about anything else. But how can he think of anything other than you?

Your confession nearly takes him out. He's so surprised, so overcome with emotions, he falls to his knees at your feet. Grasps your hands like he's drowning and you're the only thing that will save him. He was holding so much tension inside and he didn't even realize it. Now it's all draining away. You can either pull him to his feet or join him on the floor. Either way, he needs you to hold him. MC, please tell him he isn't dreaming. Please tell him this is real. Reassure him with a kiss and he'll pull you into a fierce embrace, like he's scared you'll vanish if he doesn't hold you tight enough.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[annawayne]

Anna I'm just curious how old are you?

Sorry if I'm being intrusive I just overthink too much if I'm too old to be in fandom You can not answer if it's uncomfortable, so please don't feel pressured to answer

Much love!

Hi anon!

I'm 27, and it's all fine, don't worry!

And you know, I would say that fandom is the place that doesn't have any restrictions: we gather together not by the age, but for our love for the same things. And this, this love doesn't know no age, it always go beyond. So, anon, no matter how old you are - 20, 38, 45, or 60 - you're welcome in any fandom because you share the same love like other people do :3

I know that a lot of people think that being in fandom is not "serious", when being an adult, but the truth is that the only "not serious" behaviour is to judge other people by their interest (as long as this "interest" is not harmful or insulting others, of course).

I actually had a situation when some very toxic man (lol, of course) said to me regarding my love for AruAni, "You're obsessed and it's not very good for you. You're already a grown-up woman, you better act like one". Well, there's always an ultimate answer to it, the one I said to him, "You're right, I'm a grown up and, unlike you, I act like one, so I don't listen to rude shitbags like you who tell me what to do with my life" ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌

And this is really it, you don't have to listen to anyone what you should love or not. Your interest is yours.

I understand that, of course, it's also difficult because of the social pressure, but if we will listen to anyone's what to do with our lives, what will be left for us? Life is a very fragile thing. And this fragility is for us to keep, not for other people with malice on their fingers trying to touch it.

I'm just like anyone else - I have a full-time job, mundane chores, health problems, taxes, medical check ups, sleep deprivation, maintaining my finances (I also have another quite specific condition - living in a war, but it's another thing), but I also have my love for theater and classics and rock concerts, my obsession with literature and ethno/vintage, my love for cinema, for art, for studying, for silly socks with hilarious print under the black palazzo pants and massive boots, my love for AruAni, who I adore with all my heart, for creating - writing and drawing, for wheezing when I see kitties or doggies, for cuddling with my plushie shiba-inu (his name is Mochi, I love him).

I can go to the opera, and then come back, write some AruAni angsty scenes and scream here with everyone on Tumblr on some headcanons - if Armin loves sharks, how Annie tries not to lose herself during the Ambassadors meeting when Armin looks like that etc etc - before starting working usually 8 hours. And it doesn't make me less or "weirder", or special or anything else. It just makes me - me, and there's nothing bad about it. In fact, it only brings me joy.

So, anon, no matter how old you are, what matters is your genuine passion and love, and if anyone tells you how to live your life - the only thing I can tell, is that such people are just jealous deep inside that you can openly love something and enjoy something, when they are not capable of it, being embarrassed or losing all the interests in general, caging themselves into "adult" frames, too pressured by social standards or simply not even having time for it - the whole list of reasons is enormous, and it's very sad, in fact.

We all sometimes lose our interests and hobbies in this adult life hurricane, but if you have it - defend it like the tree defends its roots in the storm: like its life depends on it, because being able to have the interest and being passionate about something, this is what is worth fighting for. It's a blessing and we should cherish it. It's not easy, but it's worth it.

(sorry for the sudden long read, I'm sorry if I bored you. It just seemed to me that this topic bothered you and I wanted to support you)

[sydneytheforestqueer]

Greetings Tumblr!! One of my pookies said I should post this here so I am! I was going to write a Desert Duo hunger games fic but I didn't feel like writing out the whole thing so have this snippet that I wrote up earlier!!

The canon sounded and Scar stared up at Grian. The peacekeepers son had become much more ruthless throughout the course of the games than Scar had ever seen him before, but thats what a need of survival does to you, right? Grian still stood over the body of Bdubs, sword in hand as he turned twords Scar, who had essentially turned on him a moment before.

Scar was never going to truly kill Grian, he was just hoping to get Grian mad enough to kill him. They had been by each other since the very beginning, growing up together, learning the ways of this awful world. Even when Grian moved districts, Scar always remembered his best friend. Here they were, standing face to face with Grian yelling that he was a traitor.

He stared at the boy in front of him, the one he had been trying to keep going this entire time and scar dropped his sword. He knelt on the ground in front of Grian.

“You can kill me. For everything you did to me to keep me alive this long, you may slay me and claim victory.”

The boy gave Grian a sad smile. He preferred to die by Grians hand with the knowledge that his flower was safe than to have died earlier with so many adversaries against them.

Grian stared at Scar, saying that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t kill Scar. They both knew that the Gamemakers would only allow one champion, so they decided to fight, bare fits, no weapons. They had made their way back to the makeshift grave that they had made for Pizza, the mutt they managed to wrangle into submission earlier in the games. Likely something that upset the gamemakers, it was a small act of rebellion that had been wonderful while it lasted.

The farmhand and the peacekeepers son stood across from each other in a makeshift circle of cacti next to the grave of their pet. Grian said that whatever happened, they could count this as a double win… but scar knew what would happen. He would make sure that Grian made it out. He cared too much for him to let him lose.

The two counted down before Grian charged at Scar. Sure, Scar was strong but Grian had always been faster. Scar knew he had to fight back or Grian wouldn’t actually kill him, but he couldn’t keep up with him anyways. It hurt, everything hurt. He was in pain from the hits yet they kept coming till he was bloodied and broken on the ground, staring up at Grian as he sobbed out apologies. Grian looked beautiful, even with the blood and grime staining his features from the past week of ruthless conditions.

He was like an angel of death, coming to take the suffering from Scar. Scar gave a weak laugh as he looked up at his pesky bird. He wanted so badly to hug him and comfort him like he always did but Scars body and mind felt numb. Despite the fact he was dying, he was happy. Grian won, he would get to go home. Scar was happy to sacrifice himself for Grian. He cared about him more than anything else. He just wished he had the courage to tell him before this moment.

As Scars thoughts started slipping into eternal darkness he was able to make out a few weak words. He simply needed to tell Grian that he loved him… and then he let the darkness take him. At least the last sight he saw was the beautiful face of his Sun. He was Icarus, he had gotten too close and now he was burnt up, diving into the cool darkness of eternal sleep.

The canon sounded across the arena as Scars heart stopped.

Okay so yea that's the scene lol- I have another post somewhere with some things about this AU but I'll put some basic info here

Grian and Scar are from district 10 but Grians dad is a peacekeeper and was able to move them to district 3 a few years before both g and scar end up in the games.

Grian got the nickname pesky bird from farmers in D 10 cause he tended to climb around in barn rafters and sing songs in his free time.

Grian had his dad and his mom (whos an engineer) and then scar had just his mom. After scar dies grian also dies (like in third life) out of spite so that the game makers wouldn't have a winner.

Pizza was one of the mutts put into the arena to make the tributes have to fight in order to get food. The llamas had supplies but would brutally attack the tributes, grian and scar were able to wrangle pizza and get a makeshift muzzle on him with their experience from being raised in district 10Also this all takes place during the 25th hunger games where all the tributes were voted on. Scar basically told everyone to vote him cause he didn't want anyone else to deal with the games, grian was voted because people hated that he's a kid of a peacekeeper and no one really had much care for him.

Feel free to ask questions if anyone wants to know anything more!! I did start writing this from before the games and then gave up but I'm willing to give information to the community and let you guys come up with your own ideas and such. >:D

Also have the playlist I made a while ago.

(Thanks @c4-oliver for convincing me to post this here lol)

[th-compl-x]

An Exploration of Function

So, I'm certain my system started with trauma.

I've seen a lot of silly discourse over endo stuff, and I just think people need to mind their own business and be more accepting, but - in my personal case - we definitely started with trauma, probably around 3rd grade (or possibly even younger).

Childhood trauma seems to be relatively accepted as the spark for DID/OSDD, etc. I can agree with this, at least in my own experiences and with other systems I've met and talked to. Still, while I personally think that makes sense for the START of a system (the psyche fracturing under immense pressure), I don't agree with it when it comes to the Alters themselves.

Again, I'm speaking from personal experience, but I really don't believe an Alter MUST be formed from some kind of traumatic experience. A system as a whole? Yeah, probably. I can believe that. But each and every individual fragment or Alter? Uuuh... no. Just no.

Honestly speaking, I don't even like that idea. It breaks my heart to think that a person's only option could ever be formulating from purely pain and suffering. That's... disgustingly sad. It makes me want to hug every headmate and make sure they're okay, which would probably confuse a lot of them because they weren't formulated that way. Yes, they've each suffered their own pain and suffering in their own lives and experiences, whatever lives those are that they've led, but they're not BORN from it: From MY suffering, at least. I think my brain just shattered one day, and now they are those pieces.

But all my Alters write their own stories.

A lot of them were born in happiness or built up from my own fascinations with particular sources of media, hence my immense amount of fictives/introjects/etc. But I don't think trauma = Alter. I think trauma can SOMETIMES = System, and then the brain does as it pleases. In my case? I think (in some cases, certainly not all!) I have nameless, faceless entities meandering in the backdrop like actors waiting for an audition, until I get hooked heavily on something like - let's say - Genshin, and then someone steps forward to try out for a role. Maybe they've played another "character" previously, like... Roxas, from Kingdom Hearts, or were an original concept now needing a new face to stay relevant. A Shifter from the Facility needing to be someone new to fulfill a job they've been assigned. Protector, caretaker, etc.

Maybe they don't do very well in that role and fade back into obscurity until a newer, better role comes along... Or, they do SO WELL that they simply become that person. Crast. Zhongli. He's the same person, just wiggling a little to fit into the mold. Maybe, even before that, he was Raphael, who even transitioned into The King in Yellow, Hastur. New names, new faces, new bodies, and lives and lovers. But, at their core, they're the same. Or, it's as I originally thought, they're all just themselves, and I happen to have a lot of them! 300+, in fact! (If not more now...) But, regardless, I know my boys aren't built from pain.

My Alters are crafting themselves from love.

So, to answer the question of, "How does my System work?" I'm still not 100% certain, but I think it's somewhere in that zone: I had trauma, that trauma broke me mentally, those pieces became people to help me stabilize, those people slowly integrated into my life via creative writing & roleplay throughout my formative years, "announced" themselves when they & I were ready, and now there's either a TON of people waddling around up here being silly and making my life a better place to be, or they're the same 50-something individuals just in a dressing room frantically putting on their next "costume" to keep up with what I'm entranced by. (Lol! What a visual 😂) Some remain the same no matter what, some age-slide, some change drastically! But, in the end, it's really all up to them who they want to be, and not me.

I don't have control over who is brought forward when or why, and I'm okay with that.

I'm just happy they're here at all and that my life is so much better with their additions to it.

And that's about that. 🤷‍♀️

PS: If anyone wants any further clarification or has any other questions, send an Ask! Even if it's not about this, send an Ask! We love chatting, so don't be a stranger, and don't be afraid to Ask the strange. 😘💕👍 Hope you have a beautiful day! 😊❤️

— The Complex

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

Another post? damn

I was on vacation a few weeks back and had no internet so I downloaded all Fanfciton that were Satoru/Shoko tagged and rated them.

Here are the ones I rated 5/5 ... so i guess this is a ff recommendation post lol

The delicate art of flirting

3rdgymbros

Words: 1,960, Satosho, 5/5

This is so good. I love that the first years get brought into the infirmary and they just KNOW ahahahahah. Also it’s just this casual side thing but there something so much deeper that i hurts which i like about this ship

Like a lost shirt

Lua

Words:1,520, Satosho, 5/5

I am a sucker for raw and "practical" relationships. Like this is exactly how I imagine them to grieve for Suguru and I love that so much can be left unsaid but the reader and Satoru and Shoko both just know. What they have isn't healthy but it's the only thing they can have. A happy and healthy relationship with someone else would just simply not work. They are both too fucked up for that.

Sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine)

Her_black_tights

Words: 17,761 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

So I am biased on this one cuz this is one of my headcanons. That Suguru fucked around with both and that his absence is why Gojo and Shoko are a thing. And I feel like this fic perfectly encapsulates the hurt, the brokenness and the necessity of their relationship. Like this is how they cope and its messy and unhealthy and i love it

Listen I love you joy is coming

Antioedipus

Words:3,938 Satosho 5/5

This one is cute. Nah cute is the wrong word, they are goblins but it’s nice. They are both fucked up which is funny. Also 100% can see that Shoko doesn't have the emotional capacity to console a crying woman but still would do the right thing even if she doesn't think it’s the right thing. 

Work and not run (skip and not fall)

Aminstrel

Words:2,300 Satosho 5/5

Love this! Cute! Exactly how i Imagine them. Also match cut? Peak comedy hahahaha goblin energy.

Catalyst

tiressian

Words:4,170 Satosho 5/5

AYOOOOO first tiressian ff. i remember reading this and having gotten new horizons opened xD Anyway: love it, super nice character interaction. Love it when Gojo is stumbling over his words, a tiressian special! Also love the aftermath, hilarious but sweet.

To my significant (b)other

Tiressian

Words: 6,621 Satosho 5/5

Another banger! Back to back? Spoiled honestly. I love this one just because it makes so much sense that she writes a list. Also Gojo high as balls is hilarious. Then the whole dialogue at the wedding with the chaste touches omg my skin is prickling. Love it.

Warmth

Satoluvs

Words:2,663 Satosho 5/5

I LOVE THIS. Omg adopted Yuji has my heart. Also consoling somebody by not talking it out but taking them in giving them affection to cure the sadness omg. Also also Satoru and Shoko just dating super casually i looooovee it.

Breathing underwater 

Shrimphony

Words:1,848 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

This one hurts so much omg. And this could easily be canon. Idk why Gege does not show us Shoko’s grief more…. Like even if it's platonic how can she not find solace in Gojo still being there hmm? And then when Gojo, Nanami and Yaga get ripped from her, that must have destroyed her…

Shore 

Tiressian

Words:7,161 Satosho 5/5

VERY TASTY thank you for the meal. I love their dynamic. Back with the tiressian special. Also Shoko making him do push ups, same girl same i get it. Love the banter, it makes so much sense.

Epoch

Tiressian

Words:6,341 Satosho 5/5

Yum, yes, very nice. Love cheerleader Gojo, he has my heart, that poor dude. No other comments it's perfect

Call it a hunch

Tiressian

Words: 5,560 Satosho 5/5

I think this is one of my favourites hahhaha. I love how panda is trying to convince everybody hahahahah. Also the snowball fight is glorious xD the little yuta/maki you slipped  in there, i see you hehehehe. And the end has me ROLLING HAHAHAHAH

It's the thought that counts 

Tiressian

Words: 2,182 Satosho 5/5

THE CUTEST ahhhh i love them i really really need to draw the three of them uff.

there's lots of 4/5 ones too that I'd recommend but i need to cap the list somewhere xD (the google doc has 12 pages wtf ahahahah) This is up for changes anyway :P but enjoy my recommendations xD

[impbites]

hi! so this is something i've been meaning to do for a while now - an introduction post for (some of) my stardew valley ocs! specifically my zephyr farm guys because they're my favourite :3

💙💜 there's a lot of writing, so more on them under the cut! 💚💛

hi again lol 👋 here are their individual profiles!

GALE ZALESKI 🌀 - gale is the owner of zephyr farm! before moving into the valley, gale lived with his mother, tosia, frequently job-hopping to provide for the both of them. one day whilst working as a gas station attendant gale receives a call from his mother, who tells him about a letter she found tucked away among some old papers. as you can guess, it was a letter from their late grandfather inviting them to move into the valley. gale decides to take him up on this offer and soon moves into the farm by pelican town.

gale is my kinda rude, playboy-ish butch and he's sooo fun to think about. he's very brash, has a bit too much fun teasing misty and doesn't always do his fair share of the work (despite clearly being the strongest one there...) but has a good heart at his core. ultimately, he just wants to have fun and live a comfortable life with the people he loves.

MISTY MENDOZA ☁️ - before becoming a farmhand misty worked as a truck driver, and although he didn't dislike the job, it wasn't what he saw himself doing in life. as a student, he attended an agricultural college but had to drop out for financial reasons. knowing this history, gale knew exactly who to call when they needed help starting up their newly obtained farm. he doesn't quite realise it yet, but this request was the breath of fresh air that misty had needed for years.

misty actually belongs to @falkecat, but i mess around with him a lot (hehe). for doing something he's always wanted to do, he sure is grumpy! at the beginning, he and gale don't even know each other that well, they just kept running into each other over the course of different jobs and eventually became acquaintances of sorts. misty is serious and reliable but can be a little awkward at times.

RAINBOW 🌈 - rainbow (better known as simply bow) was found wandering about the tracks at the dawn of gale and misty's second year at zephyr farm. it quickly becomes apparent that they have some form of amnesia and are unable to recall much more than their own name. after a trip to harvey's and with nothing to go off of, gale offers to let them stay on the farm for the time being and bow graciously accepts. not wanting to be a burden to them, bow watches over and maintains the orchard.

bow is definitely one of the more mysterious characters in the group. they blend into the background quite easily (despite her rather interesting appearance) and seem to be easily forgotten by the townspeople too… often accompanied by an air of sadness, just what did their memories hold? they're as clumsy as they are sweet.

SUN-HI ☀️ - a freelance photographer who was hired by mayor lewis to promote tourism in pelican town. she first arrives in the valley during the stardew valley fair (zephyr's second year), where she has a surprise reunion with gale, her childhood friend and sweetheart. complicated feelings aside, sun also manages to capture something rather interesting on camera - it appears this seemingly unsuspecting valley is actually host to all kinds of supernatural going-ons, and sun wants to learn everything there is to know about them.

sun's appearance in pelican town shakes the dynamics on the farm up quite a bit as gale and misty have been growing closer over the past year... a romantic rival enters the scene?! sun is curious, smart and has an interest in the paranormal. 👽

...and that's it (for now) for those four! that was quite a lot of information but i hope you enjoyed learning about my silly little stardew ocs! 🐞 thanks for reading!❣️

[joocomics]

OKAY FUN TIME!!!

THOUGHTS ON BEAUTIFUL MIND OH MY GOD i know u were VERY excited for bbb so like HOW DID U LIKE IT (+the rest of the album ofc!!!)

if i go track by track i want to shout out:

fight me - it feels so clinically xdh. like i would play this for someone to be like "this is their quintessential vibe"

beautiful life - dude FORGET IT how does one slay so hard ugh i love how they have so much variety and this song is so interesting and ITS 4 AND A HALF MINUTES

more than i like - all lowercase title? bro sign me up this is everything i dreamed fr fr i love love love this one

supernatural - close enough welcome back pluto I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS ONE. SO DEARLY. IT MIGHT BE MY FAVE I JUST WANTED TO SHOUT IT OUT

i feel like it goes without saying that every single track was amazing and this album was no skips and i simply have to ask myself how does one band eat this hard every time 😔

anyway i hope you are having a happy album drop day and that it makes ur week lovely and bright 🫶🫶

YES BBB AGGHHSJS IT’S MY FAVE ONE like i just Knew right from the teasers that she’s gonna steal my heart and she did 🙂‍↕️ but i totally agree 1000% this album is No Skips so far xdiz haven’t done an album that has skips BUTT it’s still worth to mention. they always make smth for everyone their variety and creativity is crazy!!

ok so my little list goes like this:

bbb - FAVE my top number one if it wasn’t clear enough lol it’s playful it’s sexy THE BASS GOES HARD just the way i like it!! and the title is great lol when i read bitter but better i was like “this is my new life motto”

beautiful life - WHAT YOU SAID!!! it slays SO hard in every single aspect possible def deserves to be close to bbb for me (also why did the fight scene felt so real? oscar winning mv let’s go)

george the lobster - CHEFS KISS IT’S SO GOOD SO FUN it sounds like an anime opening and i love the vibes it’s giving perfect for spring in my opinion!!

fight me - YUPPPP idk how to explain it but i cannot imagine the album without this song; it’s the cherry on top and just wouldn’t hit the same at all if they haven’t added it on the track list

diamond - I NEED TO SEE MORE PEOPLE SPEAK ABOUT THIS ONE DON’T WE HEAR THE DRUMS HELLOOOO

more than i like - SO FUN AND WHOLESOME IT MAKES ME WANNA WRITE ROMANCEEEE 🥰

personally, i rarely click with ballads like… there are few that i really really love and i never listen to cause they make me sad 😭 PLUTO is the ONLY ballad i play regularly! honestly no other ballad will top pluto for me this song is incredible and it will always have a special place in my heart. i’ve recommended it to ppl and i’ve played it to my family lol sooo since i’m not a ballad enthusiast it’s very hard for me to find one that will make me feel the way pluto does… pluto is exceptional (sorry didn’t mean to make a ted talk for pluto) with that being said, supernatural is beautiful but it’s not something i’d play anytime soon IT’S TOO SAD BRO 😔😔😔 how do you all do it

thank you bestie! i hope your week is going wonderfully and that the album brought you lots of positive vibes 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[whirlwindimagines]

‘I close my eyes and all I see is you’

a/n: Not requested well sort of some people asked for a part two of ‘Talk about it somewhere only we know’ is this good? lol no Enjoy~ I need more requests ;p; I wanna write for my babygirl so I can avoid writing for my 1000 follower thank you story lol

Vash x Reader

‘This was bad’ that’s all your unhelpful brain was supplying, well maybe it wasn’t that unhelpful, you knew you needed to move. You couldn’t just keep lying on the desert sand bleeding, it was a good shot, right through the top of your left shoulder a clean shot. You just keep trying to rationalize everything. 

Out of your loveable bunch of misfits, you were all used to the idea of being in danger, it just came with the territory. You were so used to patching everyone else up, making sure they were okay. Being on the other end, it was a little scary… again rationally you’d be fine! 

But you were in pain, a shout of your name forced you to open your eyes, when had you even closed them? Instead of seeing the blue of the sky above you, your eyes meet the blue of those eyes. 

“Vash” you breathe out, you entirely focus on him, his frantic eyes the way his hands hover over your body as if he’s afraid to hurt you even more. Like he ever could. His prosthetic presses into your injured shoulder, he must have found some resolve, you flinch and he looks devastated that he may have even caused you a fraction of discomfort. 

You know you need to be doing something, all that first aid training and you’re freezing up at your own injury? Getting your bearings finally, you sit up “Wait.” Vash says a little frantic, but you dismiss his concerns pushing his hand away to press your own hand to the wound it’s really not that bad. “I’m okay Vash really, this will be a quick fix. Help me up?” 

He does so, his hands shaking as he grasps your elbows to help you to your feet. His hands hover again, nervous and unsure. He still looks a little frantic, but better. You two don’t exchange many words as Vash helps you back to the shitty motel all of you had been staying in before getting separated and the shootout. Vash helps you on the bed sitting you’re at the edge as he grabs a med kit.

Vash removes your bloody hand, the shirt is ruined so you just rip it so he had access to the wound, ignoring the blush that covers his face. He could be so dramatic. Vash begins cleaning the wound but his hands are shaking, “Vash stop.” You say gently placing your hands over his, “I can do it, it's alright” 

“It’s not alright!” Vash says a little loudly, your taken back usually Vash never raises his voice, he has seen the look on your face because he takes a second to breathe, to find his words. “It’s just…I have to do this, I have to take care of you” he says softly, and oh does that make your heart skip a beat. You want to say something, you are going to say something but he continues.

“You take care of all of us, patch us up, make sure we eat everything. And you never ask for anything, please let me do this” Vash holds your gaze softly and you can’t even speak. Holding his gaze you nod, “okay” it’s a stupid thing to say maybe, but no one’s ever said anything like that to you. And it’s caught you completely off guard. So, you let Vash work slowly and carefully he patches your wound until it's perfectly wrapped. 

“Thank you” gripping his wrist gently and not letting him get very far, you weren’t going to let him run away this time. The push and pull of your relationship one step closer two steps back, not this time. “Please stay.” The look he gives you…it’s hard to decipher, but he does sit down next to your hands in his lap. 

You asked him to stay and now you are at a loss for words, that seems to be the issue between the two of you. The unsaid words, the something hanging between the two of you. Grabbing Vash’s human hand and simply holding it in yours. His hand grips yours, “I never know what to say around you” Vash’s voice breaks the silence, is tone soft and sad. It startles you, forcing you to look at him. 

“That’s not true” you start, “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit Vash, you always make me feel better.” You tell him honestly, leaning into him to rest your head on his shoulder. His handshakes in yours, but you don’t let go. It takes a minute but then he rests his cheek on top of your head and you can’t help but smile at the closeness. 

“Can we just stay like this…for a while longer” Vash says and you can’t refuse that request, “yeah I would like that” you whisper back, maybe it’s time to finally be brave. “Vash…I– “ 

“I know. It’s the same for me” Vash interrupts his voice shakes, and he looks away from you blushing and it makes your heart race as you lift your head off his shoulder to look at him. And you laugh, he turns to look at you surprised, “I’m not laughing at you, I promise! It’s just we really are a pair of idiots” Vash smiles and he can’t help, but laugh as well. Leaning back into you and gripping your hand.

You both sat there for a while enjoying each other’s presences and laughing softly, it was nice. You could feel the slight change between you too, and it was nice a Subtle but natural shift. You two probably had more to talk about, but this was nice just leaning against each other and existing. And you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while, you two could talk more later, right now you would enjoy this moment with Vash.

[galaxiasgreen]

🌌 Writer Interview Game

Thank you for the tag @morelikeravenbore!! This was fun 💚

When did you start writing?

From a very young age. I used to write stories and read them to my class (even after the bell went, sorry y'all I was THAT bitch). I started writing more seriously at age 17.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write? 

I gravitate towards sci-fi/ fantasy more than anything else, although my reading taste has broadened a lot as I've aged, so I'll usually read anything that interests me. Ironically I don't tend to read a lot of sad books, even though a lot of my work is chock-full of angst.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often? 

I used to be able to emulate Rick Riordan's light-hearted, humorous narration. When I wrote Percy Jackson fanfic people often joked I was him in disguise 😂 I've since developed my own voice now.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space? 

Just my desk. It's a bit cluttered rn. If it's hot I'll work on my laptop by a window. Sometimes I write at work too, sssshhh.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Music, and exercise. Going on a walk with some heavy metal blasting in my ears usually wakes it up.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I love characters who hit absolute rock bottom and claw their way back up. I also like bittersweet endings; I feel they most represent the ups and downs of real life. Feelings of self-inadequacy and struggling to belong as well.

What is your reason for writing?

It's compulsive, I have to do it. I also struggle to put my thoughts into words, which makes verbal communication very difficult and draining for me (afaik I don't have a condition), so writing is the way I reclaim my voice.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

When readers catch little details or retroactively notice foreshadowing! It's so gratifying when something you sneak in gets noticed.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

If I can allow someone an opportunity to escape to another world, find understanding in a character or scenario or simply have fun, I will be thankful.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character arcs of development with a little flair for drama. Also action scenes – difficult to start, but once I get in the swing of things I love 'em.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Depends on the day 😂 I go through the typical cycle of 'this is amazing' to 'this is shit' and back, like every writer does lol. I'm much better than I used to be, but I also know I can always improve.

NP tags: @mianeryh @writingannyred @polarisgreenley @thetotomoo 💚

[dvrtrblhr]

i'm rewriting a few scenes from Golden Dawn's earlier chapters (yeah i know i should write new chapters, but the old ones have been bothering me for a while) and I'm chuckling at how claude teases/accuses dimitri of being too proud to accept/ask for help while he's at least as bad as dimitri (well, that's how i write him lol)

3 claude+hilda scenes in which claude refuses to be comforted (all from golden dawn's past chapters):

 It started at breakfast, with Hilda: “You look awful. I guess things didn’t go very well yesterday, then?” she asked as she laid her tray of food in the place just in front of him. Claude didn’t think he looked that bad when he got ready for the day. It was just one sleepless night, it was not like he didn’t pull all nighters every now and then to finish an essay, a book or an experiment. So he went with that excuse. “My life doesn’t revolve around him, Hilda,” he replied, and it felt like he was also trying to convince himself of it. “I was engrossed in this book, and when I noticed, it was already morning.” Hilda watched him neutrally as she sipped from her tea cup with all the grace of a noble girl. “If you say so,” she said finally with a small smile as she set her cup down. Then, she discreetly reached for his hand and held it gently. For a moment, Claude only stared at her small delicate hand over his own with raised eyebrows. The girl finally continued in a soft voice, “If you want to talk, I’m here. I hope you know I’d never go around spilling your secrets. You are my friend.” “Right. I think you put too much sugar in your tea,” he replied flippantly. She glared at him and released his hand, her attention back a her meal.

number 2:

Something strange happened then. With each step he took in the direction of his own room, his heart beat faster, his breathing became shorter and his vision seemed to tunnel to the point he just stood there, bracing against his door, hoping he wouldn’t faint. He tried to focus on the feeling of sweat dripping down his temple, of the key he was gripping tightly enough to be painful. “Claude?” He flinched at the same second he recognized the voice calling over his shoulder. It was Hilda. Of course she would follow him. If he was even close to his usual self, he would have noticed it earlier. “Are you… all right?” She asked. “Yeah,” he replied, still bracing against the door, “a bit tired.” “Are you sure? You aren’t hurt, are you?” “No, I’m fine,” he lied. Claude was not fine. He had known it would deeply upset Dimitri if he found out how much Claude had failed to tell him, but nothing would have prepared him for the screaming, the insults and the threats. And then there was Edelgard, the true schemer of them all, leaving Claude with a challenge she knew he had no hope of resolving on his own. “What happened, Claude?” Hilda insisted, sounding worried. At that point he had gathered enough strength to turn and face his friend. She was frowning, holding both hands over her heart. “Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Claude told her and offered her the key to his room. “Can you do me a favor and open the door for me?” Claude didn’t tell her that he couldn’t do it himself because his hands were shaking, but he knew that she knew.

and number 3:

The door opened suddenly then. He flinched, but didn’t move from his place over the rug, only rubbed his thumb and index finger over his eyes quickly and discreetly.  “What are you doing?” Claude heard Hilda ask. “Thinking,” he replied as he quickly stood up to face her. She looked even more concerned, if that was possible. “Claude…” she started and opened her arms as if to embrace him. He immediately backtracked, his hands raised in a defensive manner. “No hugging,” he told her firmly. Claude knew that he was as good as gone if he let her hold him. “You know… you can be sad. In fact, it’s better than watching you overwork yourself to death.” “I don’t have time to be sad,” he retorted simply. She sighed in frustration – like Claude was her teenage son she didn’t know how to discipline any more. “Will you at least tell me what you are scheming? Or is it a surprise?” “I will tell you what you need to know,” he proposed instead. Again, Hilda sighed in frustration. “Why are you like this?” “Probably… bad parenting, early experiences with rejection and betrayal, masculinity issues… sexuality issues… the usual stuff I guess,” he replied and the grin came easily. “Anyway, I’m going to Garreg Mach. I want you to stay here in Derdriu, holding the fort.”

[nostradamus0]

17-18-19 pls! :D

oooh thank you! :)

these ones are a bit tricky since i've only actually posted one fic (and it's woefully unfinished) this year, because i've been super busy writing things that i never finish, so i'm going to interpret this liberally and include things i haven't technically finished yet, but are at least 50% written.

my favorite opening line that i've written this year! oof, i have no idea. after some pondering, i think it might be:

It has always been that 108 Mifflin Street is Henry’s home, and never truly felt like hers until he was there with her, scattering his toys across the living room and the plastic baby plates and bowls across the counter. Filling the bookshelves with board games and comic books, and covering the walls with the first photographs Regina had ever owned or taken. She learned to use a camera to capture his smile.

but i'm also incredibly fond of the first line in a very in-progress follow-up to a oneshot i wrote for supercorptober like, 2 years ago lol

Lena meets her son in the middle of the night on the last day of August, with flowers growing from her palms and the smell of house-fire smoke hanging heavy in the air. He’s four years old and terribly alone, and there’s drywall dust and white ash clinging to his hair like snow.

favorite ending line might be even harder, oh no. a lot of my favorite "ending" lines are technically the end of a fic, but they end sections or chapters, so they're kinda-but-not-totally ending lines if that makes sense? hmmmmmmm.

i really like this line that ends the first section of desire as round as peaches bloom in me all night:

(And if she’s fallen a little in love with Meredith, somewhere along the telephone wires between Seattle and L.A., well. It hardly matters now.)

but also this line from the sequel/alt. pov fic i've been writing to your voice is the splinter inside me:

This is the moment she knows there are memories she has lost. It feels like only moments ago that she watched that horrible yellow bug drive across the town line with the only people in the world who gave a damn about her, who trusted and believed there was something good in her heart. Purple smoke, crackling with magic, had swallowed the sky, and they were gone. After that, Regina can remember nothing but crushing grief.

for my favorite piece of dialogue, i almost chose a line from my recent meddison fic that i really like, but instead i have to go with this scene from the yvitsim sequel:

Regina hates that she cannot remember changing. But she knows she has, if only because Snow shows up, unannounced and uninvited, and rather than incinerate her on the spot, Regina puts the kettle on the stove and doesn’t insult her god-awful pastel sweater. She busies herself with readying two mugs while Snow sits at the counter and taps her fingers on the marble.  Eventually, Snow sighs, and after taking a long sip of the tea Regina offers her, she asks: “Do you think it’s odd that Emma and Henry are staying at Granny’s? There’s plenty of room at the loft.” There is not plenty of room at the loft, Regina thinks, but does not say. It has also occurred to her as odd, that Emma would prefer a sub-par bed and breakfast over her parents house, but felt it was none of her business, and kept her mouth shut. But now she looks at Snow, at the large swell of her belly and the hand she always seems to have resting there, and it doesn’t seem so odd anymore. Regina sighs. “Give her time, Snow,” she says simply, leaning against the counter. “She’s adjusting.” “Adjusting to what?” Snow asks, looking confused, and gods, Regina thinks. How can a fully cognizant adult be so oblivious? “You’re eight months pregnant, Snow,” she deadpans. Snow’s shoulders drop, and the expression on her face turns heavy and sad. For a moment, Regina fears Snow will start crying, and that she’ll have to do something truly horrifying like comfort her. Undo it undo it undo it her brain shouts at her, almost panicky.  “He kicks. In his sleep, Henry kicks,” she blurts out rather awkwardly. “Emma’s probably trying to avoid sharing a bed with him at the loft.” Snow smiles sadly at her, like she doesn’t believe a word of it, but appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Regina, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, skin crawling with old, unwanted instincts to lash out, clears her throat and busies her hands with mixing her cup of tea.

this was VERY difficult, but very fun. thank you for the ask! :)

[eastofedean]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @carpettmuncher for tagging me!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

Only one :/ but I promise there will be more!

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

13,416!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

supernatural! I did think about writing some rdr2 stuff, but I'm not sure if I that's ever gonna happen

4. top five fics by kudos

well, i only ever published one fic. so the answer is 'at the end of all things'

5. do you respond to comments?

yes! I rarely get comments, but when I do, i try my best to reply because they mean a lot to me!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend to write fics with happy endings, and I'm not very good at like... knowing if my fics are angsty. My fic 'we met at the end of eden' was supposed to be the first one with a kinda angsty/open ending, but I don't think I'm gonna go that route

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think my lesbian destiel fic (which is currently called the great divide) is gonna be super fucking sappy. It's got everything: stanford era destiel, love, despair, hope, cowboys and a good ending for them. It's more of an idea and fantasy, so I have no clue if it's actually gonna be a real thing... just because I have no idea if I'm gonna be able to like... not get to personal about it lol

8. do you get hate on fics? i haven't gotten any so far!

no, not yet anyway jehsjs

9. do you write smut?

I've never done it before, but it's gonna be part of 'we met at the end of eden'. it just fits into the story (i just hope it's gonna be like good because smut is actually something I have no idea how to write)

10. craziest crossover?

I've never done a crossover, but I am tempted to include arthur morgan in one of my wips

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, I thi

14. all-time favorite ship?

is that even a question? well, it all started- 😮‍💨

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

all of them tbh. I'm joking! but idk I have a ones hot about lesbian destiel that I have no idea if I'm gonna finish, simply because I sometimes get too sad about it lol

16. what are your writing strengths?

I do enjoy writing dialogue a lot, especially inner dialogue. and like certain descriptions of feelings etc.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

definitely action. sometimes i just rush through scenes because I have no clue how to write what is happening know an appealing way :/ I'm should definitely work on that

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I mean, it's kinda weird? It always feels a little unnatural to me (as someone whose first language isn't english). So, I would write it into my fic, I think (especially when it's a language I don't speak and I would never write german stuff in my fic lol)

19. favorite fic you've written?

we met at the end of eden! it's just so close to my heart, and I think about it all the time. but i also like at the end of all things a lot :)

20. tagging: @limbel @gracefreakdean @roublardise and @mrcowboydeanwinchester (no pressure tho!)

[battlemaiden13]

akameloooooo: My God, I can’t believe the gem I just found, simply perfect!

(I don’t know if the creator is he or she, but I’ll address her as she.)

I caught a cold this week and stayed home resting with a sick note. With nothing to do, I decided to revisit my old hobby of reading Mafiafell fanfics and found this wonderful writing.

I confess that when I started reading, I didn’t pay much attention. I thought it would be bad or boring because it’s a multiverse and very long. But, my God, as I read, I became obsessed and couldn’t stop until I finished.

I usually don’t like long stories, but this one won my heart. I fell in love, simply perfect. I can’t express how euphoric I am about this reading.

I think I started last Saturday and finished last night.

It’s simply perfect. Congratulations to whoever wrote it. The writing is good, the story is immersive, and all the characters have distinct personalities. Not to mention the coordination in writing about so many characters at the same time, giving them hobbies, dreams, and desires in a fluid manner. Congratulations.

When I saw it was from 2017, I was sad because I thought the author had abandoned it. But I jumped out of my chair when I saw she released a new chapter today. I couldn’t believe she’s still writing. Congratulations. I haven’t read chapter 179 yet; I’m writing this before going to read it. I’ve never written anything on the internet; this is the first time I’m commenting somewhere random. I don’t even know if I’m writing in the right place. I didn’t even have an account for this; I just created this one to congratulate the perfect author. She knows how to write very well and makes the story engaging. I hope she achieves everything she wishes for. Congratulations once again. Perfect.

It’s a pity I return to my activities tomorrow, but I’m happy with the idea that I can continue my routine while waiting for more of this beauty. I had never participated in a vote before; I already took the opportunity and voted for mine, lol.

My eternal love since I was little is Sans, but she made me fall in love with many from the House Mutt, Coffe, Orange. I hope there are more hot moments. I’m embarrassed, lol.

13: Hi Akame! I’m battlemaiden and yes I’m the author of House Next Door. 

I hope my interpretation of Mafiafell was up to your standards since that’s how you found my story.

I’m so glad you enjoyed my writing after giving it a shot. I understand completely it is very very long. I’ve very much accepted then any new readers I’ll get will be ones who have skipped over HND heaps of times because of it’s lenght and then one day they just say fuck it XD Which I’m fine with, it’s just such a shame I don’t think those first like 20 chapters are great hooks XD. HND is defiantly a story that gets better the more you read. 

Thank you for your kind words. My character writing is something I’m very proud of and I’m glad I can write them well enough for others to enjoy (I think it’s far from perfect though)

Yep, House next door started in 2017 and is very much still updating. I almost do once a week at this point. there was a time I was updating everyday, I miss those days. I want to write a real book one day, not just fanfics and I’ve got an idea for one I just don’t have time to start a draft. 

It’s wild that you made an account just to talk to me. thank you, your welcome to chat any time. give suggestions or ideas or just talk :3

Ah almost all of the Chaos Quartet have your heart XD. I am very much a papyrus varient girly (with a few acceptions) so I will gladly convert you XD

Thank you so much for taking the time to write me so many sweet things and helping my head grow even bigger /jk. I really appreciate it and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart’s Home (m) | pjm | chapter 13

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you.

→ 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. → AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au → Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! → Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex. → Status: completed → Word count: 13.4k → Now playing “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham.  → Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭 → Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭  → Read on AO3? [link]

“We have enough to guide us We have enough to last We’re not alone We never were You and I aren’t lost Oh hold me very tightly Hold me fast and strong I am your love Won’t stray from you You and I belong”‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

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Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected. 

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is too much. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core. 

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of maybe mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t stand to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again. 

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there’s a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, maybe even love. It’s a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t stand the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t stand the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that maybe he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t stand the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t take the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t stand to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Maybe. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Maybe it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or maybe he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along? 

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion. 

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t take the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Maybe that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; maybe it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off. 

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him? 

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t stand to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or maybe lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t stand the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, maybe far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Maybe you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

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→ Author’s endnote: 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 💜

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰