#sorry for reblogging old post prev

[horaitos]

im sorry but horatio covering hamlet’s body so no one could ever discover that he was actually trans is driving me insane. “live to tell my story” do you see it. do you

hamlet and horatio so queer coded they had to cope this hard

[isanyonetoknow]

fundraisers pt 2.

link to part 1 here. Sorry for the formatting on part one, tumblr was against me.

Conversion of currencies, as a reminder:

5 USD to 4.46 Euros to 3.78 Pounds to 6.75 CAD

10 USD to 8.92 Euros to 7.57 Pounds to 13.51 CAD

15 USD to 13.38 Euros to 11.35 Pounds to 20.26 CAD

20 USD to 17.84 Euros to 15.13 Pounds to 27.02 CAD

Vetted campaigns

Fatima Alanqar (@fatma--gaza). Reblogged by 90-ghost here. She has five young children, the oldest being 12 and the youngest is a year and a half. She is at €8,084/20,000. This campaign was set up in July. (+2,534 in the last two weeks. 1,916 needed for halfway, 11,916 left)

Mohammed Hijazi (@save-family). Reblogged by 90-ghost here and on Butterflyeffect Project as number 475. There is a very young child in this family who has an infection and cannot be treated by the hospital. €24,475/30,000. This campaign was set up in May. (+9,888 in the last two weeks, 5,525 left)

Ahed Al-Anqar (@aahedfamily). Reblogged by mohammedalanqer here. More on the vetting situation here. Ahed has three young children (9, 6 and 1 year old). They are at €607/40,000. This campaign was set up August 15th. (+873 in the last two weeks. 18,520 needed for halfway, 38,520 left)

Mohamed Hussein Ismail (@m8hammed - prev account was deleted). Vetted by ibtisams's old account here. He is taking care of his parents and his two younger sisters. He is at €9,721/25,000. This campaign was set up in June. (+204 in the last two weeks, 2,575 needed for halfway, 15,075 left)

Mohi (@mohiy-gaza). Confirmed to be wafaaresh's brother here. He is trying to evacuate the six members of his family. He is currently at $27,242/31,000. This campaign was created in late July. (+8,451 in the last two weeks, 3,758 left)

Mohammad Taysir (@yazanfamily). Shared by mohammedalanqer here. He has a three year old and a 2 and a half year old. He is at €11,246/50,000 and this campaign has been up since early July. (+2,747 in the last two weeks, 11,007 needed for halfway, 36,007 left)

Noor Alanqar (@noor-alanqar). Shared by 90-ghost here. Her youngest of three children would now be a year old, and her oldest is six years old. They just passed the halfway-point for the campaign and are at €20,518/40,000. This campaign has been up since June. (+1,371 in the last two weeks, 18,111 left)

Oday Alanqar (@odayalanqar-2002). Shared by el-shab-hussein here. His old account was deleted and his campaign is critically low at €3,618/50,000. This campaign has been up since late July. (+923 in the last two weeks, 21,382 needed for halfway, 46,382 left)

Mahmoud AlBalawi (@elbalawi). Shared by 90-ghost here. He has five siblings and 5 nieces and nephews to keep safe. They were all recently displaced again, August 17th, and need support to stay alive. The campaign is at €39,829/85,000 and was set up in May. (+2,199 in the last two weeks, 2,671 needed for halfway, 45,171 left)

Not vetted campaigns.

Donate to these at your own discretion, I'm just here to compile them since, as far as I know, there's no one on tumblr doing verifications, which makes it very difficult for new families to get support. Many of these have been reverse image searched.

Ahmed Matar (@ahmedmatatsblog). The reverse image search was clean, as seen here but otherwise, there is no verification. You can see his full story in his campaign as well as the breakdown of the costs. He is at €437/64,000. This campaign is really new, too, created August 12th. (+193 in the last two weeks, 63,563 left)

Rond (@rawandrabah and @mohamedrabahfamily). The reverse image search was clean, as said here, but otherwise, no verification. This is the campaign and they are at €520/65,000. This campaign has been up since March. (+83 in the last two weeks, 64,480 left)

Ehab Ayyad (@ehabayyad23). Three users (across two posts, there may be more, but I didn't check) have tried reverse image searching and haven't found anything (here, here and here). €1,597/50,000. This campaign has been up since August 2nd. (+911 in the last two weeks, 47,492 left)

Anas Al-Sharfa (@anasalshrafa). The reverse image search came up clean but otherwise, no verification. He is 17, his brothers are sick and he is trying to provide for his family. He's at €1,607/50,000. This campaign was created August 21st. (+1,482 in the last two weeks, 48393 left)

Osama Al-Anqar (@osama-family). Reverse image search came up clean, but otherwise, no verification. He has a young child and is also supporting his brother and his other (martyred) brother's family. He is at £2,706/50,000. This campaign was created August 8th. (+1,720 in the last two weeks, 47,294 left)

Manal (@help-manal-family). I do not see anyone who has reverse image searched. This is his story and he is at €620/50,000. This campaign was created August 1st. (+35 in the last two weeks. 49345 left)

Eman (@emanabosedo). Has been reverse image searched here and here. She has three young children. This is her story and she is at $676/50,000. This campaign was created August 21st. (+549 in the last two weeks. 49,324 left.)

Mohammed Ayyad (@mohammednasers-blog). Has been reverse image searched here. He is 17 and taking care of his seven siblings and his mother. He is at €2,875/38,000 and the campaign was set up August 5th. (+1,511 in the last two weeks. 33,614 left)

Ezz El-Din Salem (@ezzaldeens-blog). Not formally vetted by someone on tumblr, but has strong evidence as can be seen here. The campaign is at €312/20,000 and was created August 12th. Also, Ezz is actively looking for someone to vet the campaign. (+1,674 in the last two weeks. 18,014 left)

[electricpurrs]

my life has been greatly improved after i did this and i want to help my fellow mobile warriors, but there are no full clear tutorials on it out there, so im making my own

under the cut there'll be an overly extensive but hopefully helpful tutorial on how to use revanced (of youtube revanced fame) to get a patched version of the tumblr mobile app which can reverse annoying UI changes, get prev tags back, and get rid of tumblr live permanently

first of all, this only works on android. sorry. but that said here we go

firstly go on the play store and turn off Play Protect. you'll generally need to turn off/ignore any safety checks you get, and allow to "download from unverified sources" (dw this process is safe, you can turn these back on after you're done)

uninstall the tumblr app you currently have on your phone (the one from the play store)

download Vanced MicroG and ReVanced Manager. install both. ReVanced Manager will become an app you'll need to use for this

go to this link. generally youre supposed to be careful when downloading apks off the internet, but i can testify the ones from apkmirror are safe

now this is where the magic happens. apkmirror has the apks for ALL versions of the tumblr app, from the most recent one as far back as 2015

this is how you can reverse any changes to the tumblr app you dont like, simply get an apk from before the change was made

the one im currently using is v29.1.1.100

pros of this one:

- the old image viewer (you can click on images to zoom in without the weird transparent background and scrolling taking you to unrelated posts)

- prev tags (aka you can click on a post or a reblog to be taken directly to that version of the post or the reblog instead of just going to the top of op's blog)

- general reversal of recent UI changes, like the DM redesign and the update that made everything smaller and round

having chosen an apk, download it. i heard some people say you should only download and not install it right away, but mine only worked when i had it installed, so it might depend for you

now go to the ReVanced Manager app you downloaded earlier

go to the Patcher tab, and there click on Select and application, there you can select the tumblr apk you just downloaded

there you can see the available patches, simply click on patch and wait until its done

i believe if you did not need to install your apk earlier you can just click "install" and install the patched version right away.

but for me, since i had to install my apk, what i had to do was, once my app was patched, click on the folder icon on the bottom left, save the patched app to my phone files (besides the og one, not replace it), then i went to my file manager, deleted the original apk, THEN installed the revanced version

idk if you'll need to do this but it was a pain for me to figure this out so if it helps someone else 👍

and with that its done! if you manage to install it sucessfully, you can just open the app, log in, and youll see if its working if tumblr live is completely gone and all other changes are applied o7

[deathofacupid]

cool | peter parker

a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.

repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!

summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?

warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)

pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker

word count: 1.5k+ words

you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.

it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?

so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.

you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.

you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.

"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.

under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.

there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.

he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"

you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"

he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.

"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)

"sure, yeah."

"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.

he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.

he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?

he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"

you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."

"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.

"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."

he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"

"huh?"

"your name."

you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."

"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."

"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.

peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?

"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"

"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"

"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."

"no, i-"

"no sweat, parker."

you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"

you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."

"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."

you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."

"what?" peter looks up from his meal.

"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.

"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."

it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."

"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."

"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."

"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.

"thanks."

"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.

"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"

"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."

"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."

you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"

you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.

"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."

"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"

"i'll try," he jokes.

"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."

"cool," he says, matching your tone.

"cool."

"cool."

"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.

"no, yeah, i agree."

"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."

you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.

he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.

"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.

you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."

"holy shit, really?"

"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."

he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."

"like i said, it's cool."

"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.

"um, sorry?"

"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.

"uh... i am not."

"then how'd you get those?"

he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."

you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.

"no, it's cool. i'm..."

"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.

he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.

"i'm spider-man!"

"uh. what?"

"you don't know spider-man?"

"no, of course i know spider-man!"

"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.

"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"

he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.

"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."

"yes way."

"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"

"that was a lot."

"i know. but it was very valid."

"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"

"oh, so pretty privilege?"

"no! no, of course not!"

"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."

"cool."

"cool."

his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.

"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."

"we're going on dates?"

"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."

"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."

you smile at him, enjoying the moment.

"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.

"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."

"oh. cool."

"cool."

you end up kissing him anyways.

@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7

[thenegativitypit]

#me when my boss told me her daughter is engaged#she’s 23 she’s practically a child bride!

#you should be looking for bugs

#you should be watching lego ninjago

#slightly older than 22 but people my age with children freak me out girl are we not playing legos. im playing legos

#if you have a baby you can’t be the baby

#me at this one tiktok makeup girlie i follow#luv her but how r u 24 with two kids like😭

#my ass could NEVER get married at 22 or 23 or 24 or 25#like bro ur still a baby

#ppl getting married at any age before 25 is crazy to me

#child bride type beat

#you should be living and learning#fucking around and finding out

#one of my coworkers has a daughter who is 28 and just had her fourth kid a week ago#girl you should be at the CLUB 😭‼️

ADULTS

YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT FULL-GROWN ADULTS

ADULTS who are making ADULT decisions about their ADULT lives

"But negativitypit, human brains don't finish developing until 25!"

Not to AKSHUALLY, but literally if you googled that claim for five seconds you'd find out that the study you're referring to only bothered to study people up until age 25. Other studies imply that the human brain continues developing for your ENTIRE LIFE. Even when you're 70, and 80, and 90, your brain is still developing. But we're not saying that people who are 90 never should have had kids because their brain is still "baby".

LET PEOPLE MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS AND STOP NORMALIZING THE INFANTILIZATION OF YOUNG ADULTS

Literally if this post said "I'm 22 and I can't imagine wanting kids I should be outside playing" (and to everyone in the tags who said basically that about themselves) that would be VALID. You should do with your life the things you want to do with your life, to the best of your abilities!!

If this post said "don't let people or society pressure you into having kids too young" then 💯 YES GOOD POST

But it DOESN'T say those things. Instead it's doing the pressuring. "How could you want kids?? You're literally an infant, you should be doing infant things."

THEY ARE ADULTS

ADULTS WHO ARE EXPECTED TO BE MAKING DECISIONS ABOUT HIGHER EDUCATION, AND CAREERS, AND HOUSING

ADULTS WHO HAVE TO DO THEIR TAXES AND PAY FOR INSURANCE

ADULTS WHO CAN DRINK ALCOHOL, ADULTS WHO CAN PURCHASE AND DRIVE CARS, ADULTS WHO CAN PURCHASE DEADLY FIREARMS IN SOME COUNTRIES

WHY SHOULD ROMANCE AND PARENTHOOD BE THE EXCEPTION?

(And before anyone comes in here and says, "people under X adult age shouldn't be allowed to do any of the rest of that either," I really need you to think long and hard about the slippery slope you just pelted down.)

Please stop normalizing the attitude that people in their 20s are "child brides", "should be playing with legos" (nothing wrong with legos, you get the message though), and are "babies". They are not. They so very, very are not.

We all spend our whole lives learning. It is not your place to tell other adults what basic human experiences they are and are not allowed to be learning about and living through right now.

Dawg how are you 22 with a wife and kids you should be outside playing

[ollyissleepy]

𝟎𝟖. 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

summary: somethines talking things out is the only way a/n: wasn't able to post it yesterday, was too busy with uni cw: none? reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated

← prev. | m.list | next →

You rearrange the stuff on the coffee table once again. There's no reason for you to do that; the things were perfectly fine in the spots they were in. You're doing it to occupy yourself with something so your anxiety doesn't eat you alive. You leave the things alone for a bit, staring down at them, analysing. One of your hands reaches out to repeat the process when your doorbell rings.

You shoot up, startled by the noise. You were so wrapped up in your head that you didn't notice the time flying by. You make your way towards the door, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself.

You stand in front of the door, wiping your palms on your pants, trying to get rid of imaginary sweat. After taking another deep breath, you open the door. There he is, Rafayel, standing with curiosity written all over his face. He shows you a bag with takeout with a smile. You let him in, both of you exchanging greetings.

You show him to your living room, telling him to feel at home. You go and grab some utensils to make eating easier. He takes out the food out of the bag, handing over your portion. You thank him, and both of you start eating. The room is quiet; the only disturbance in silence is the muffled noises of eating. You stop eating for a bit, staring down at the container of food. You feel an overwhelming urge to apologise to Rafayel again.

"I'm sorry for how I acted the other day." Your sight still fixed on the food in front of you, afraid to see how disappointed Rafayel must be with you. "And for ignoring all of your messages," you take another bite out of your food, having it be the reason for you not to look at him.

"I already told that it's fine." Rafayel mindlessly stabs the food, trying to find something to say, something you'll actually believe in. "No hard feelings, really." He looks at you, smiling, but you don't see that. You're still avoiding looking at him.

"Doesn't change the fact that I feel bad," you admit, quietly, almost ashamed.

"It also doesn't change the fact that you had every right to react the way you did." Rafayel put down the fork, putting his hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. "I apologise for not including you in making ideas on how to help you." His hand lingers on your shoulder, giving you courage to look at him.

"I know now that you just wanted to help," you say, a soft smile on your lips. "And to be honest, I wouldn't be that much help anyway," you laugh, stabbing your food with a fork.

Rafayel chuckles, taking his hand from your shoulder. The two of you come back to eating, silence falling between you once again. This time is different as you feel much lighter in Rafayel's presence. The two of you ate, enjoying each other's company. It didn't feel like this was your third time meeting the man. More like hanging out with an old friend or someone you knew in another life. You stole a few glances at Rafayel to see him stuffing his mouth full of food. Rafayel seemed so eager to help you the previous times you saw him. You wondered if he's still interested in doing so. You also remembered him mentioning having a plan to help with your block. You decided to ask him about other parts of his plan.

"What other ideas did you have?" You ask, the fear that was keeping you from looking at him long gone as you stare directly at him. You see Rafayel's head shoot up at your question, his eyes filled with excitement.

"Wait, you still want my help?" Rafayel asks, shocked. He was sure you'll no longer be interested in his help.

"Yeah, I don't think I can fix it by myself." You shrug your shoulders, using the fork to play with your food. "Just this time have something more than changing the space I write in." Rafayel chuckles, and you smile, feeling at ease.

"Noted." He smiles, his eyes closed, his white teeth out, blinding you. "I have just a thing in mind, actually." He looks into the distance, the smile on his face turning to an obnoxious grin.

"And what is it?" You're not sure if you like the look on his face; it smells like trouble.

"What do you think of beaches?"

@sashisuslover @withering-dream @lalaluch @nicoleispurple

taglist is open!

[gyurilla]

if i say i love you - I BLAME WOONHAK!!

synopsis: riwoo accidentally retweets one of your old posts, thinking he’s on his spam account. he quickly deletes it, but your friend manages to screenshot it before it’s gone. you play it cool, acting like it was no big deal—pretending you haven’t secretly had a crush on him for years and thinking it was just a harmless mistake. but riwoo knows it wasn’t a mistake

contains: huzz jokes sorry i think they’re so funny

more under cut! (there is a schedule at the end if curious!)

taglist (open) - comment to be added (dont be shy!) @pinkiwinkiminki @banez @oowir @viesin @nujeskz @torkorpse @coffee-addict-kitten @8makes1atom

prev | masterlist | next

dont mind time stamps!!

a/n: i was so happy when i saw people actually want to be added to the taglist or just the comments i was receiving. i will try my hardest to make this a series you all enjoy and love! reblogs and likes are ALWAYS appreciated, and thank you to everyone who does!! this may seem like an empty thank you to some but i genuinely appreciate it!

s/n: i plan to update at least 2-3 times a week, the days being saturday & tuesday. i’ll aim to add a third update on a flexible day, so some weeks will have three updates, while others will have two.

[blyszczopies]

one thing i miss the most about old deviantart that also no longer exists elsewhere is how you had a special tab where all your notifications (new drawings and journals etc posted by the people you watch, all the comments and favs you received, etc) would show up and you had complete control over it. if you didnt want something saved you could just delete the notification. if theres something you would want to keep forever all you had to do is not delete it. also everything was put together into categories, so if you wanted to only look at new deviantions you could do that. you could read the new comments and not get everything else from your notifications marked as seen therefore irrelevant. like just the fact you could come back to stuff without it getting buried under all the new notifications.

everything has feeds now that you can scroll through endlessly. where also all the new posts bury the older ones. if you see a long post from a mutual but you dont have the time to read that cause youre gonna miss your train if you do. sorry mate i dont think i will ever gat the chance to read that. so happy for you. or sorry that happened.

also all the nice tags i got under my drawings. or like just any tags i enjoyed reading but i did not reblog the same post again just to prev tag it. buried under all other notifications forever.

like even post-eclipse deviantart notifications tab sucks. i had so many deviantions that i havent seen, because i wasnt as active on dA anymore. but i would come back to them. except all the notifications older than a year get wiped out. for some fucking reason. i had several commens saved in a special, separate folder, because they were very important to me. i dont think i can still view them

idk man i just want her back

under read more because of how long it is. but like do you guys get it .

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart’s Home (m) | pjm | chapter 16

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

You help Yoongi rescuing some neglected and mistreated horses and then, a stranger drops by with some wild information that will alter the course of Jimin and Jungkook’s life.

→ 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: drama, mention of mistreated horses/animal cruelty, period pain (Jimin tries to ease MC’s pain 🥹), body massage, brief breast play, spanking, a lot of kissing again, Jimin is just being sweet (he’s making up for all the time he was a douche, okay 😭) → Status: completed → Word count: 14.1k → Now playing “The Stranger” by Rebecca Lavelle.  → Author’s note: some parts of this chapter was very hard to write, but I hope it’s still okay! This chapter is very much a transition chapter lol, yes, important stuff happens, but yeah, you’ll see. Also, thank you guys so much for reading this story, for sticking with it 😭 It means a lot to me, and also every time you guys comment (some of you who have commented in the beginning, but stopped— are you okay? I’ve seen you like the rest of the chapters, but damn, I really get into my head, thinking you hate it now, and that’s why you stopped commenting, lol. But I also know that some of you are busy with life, work and studying, which is good), or leave me asks, like talking about the story in general or the characters, it’s been so much fun ❣️ Again, I want to say sorry, because I have mixed feelings about this chapter. It might seem slightly rushed (which it is), and it might shock you to know that this was always planned. But I hope it turned out okay in the end! I promise that next chapter is one that YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS 😭 → Author’s note— extra: I’m a done with writing the story 🥳 I just finished it and I’m feeling very emotional, like the ending 😭😭😭 (it’s happy tears). So that means that I’ll drop the remaining chapters as I see fit and earlier than scheduled (probably with 24 hours between them). I hope that you’ll still comment, reblog, like, give kudos and generally just interact, because I’m afraid that you won’t when I post the chapters closer together. But I also know some people are waiting to read until the whole series is done. Anyway, I want to thank you for joining me on the very emotional roller coaster ride 💖 → Read on AO3? [link]

“Yes that stranger Brings mystery into your life” ‘The Stranger’ by Rebecca Lavelle

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Amidst the lingering warmth of a delightful dinner shared among friends, you, Yoongi, Jimin, and Soo-ah gather around the kitchen sink, the clatter of dishes and laughter filling the air as you work together to tidy up and stow away the remnants of the evening’s feast.

Jimin shuttles tirelessly between the bustling kitchen and the dining room, bearing an array of steaming pots and pans brimming with savory delights, while Soo-ah efficiently transfers the culinary treasures into containers destined for the fridge or freezer. The kitchen hums with activity as Jimin and Jungkook’s culinary prowess shines through once again, ensuring an ample supply of delicious fare for all present.

At the sink’s edge stands you and Yoongi, a dynamic duo in the post-dinner cleanup brigade. Your hands deftly wield suds and scrubbers, coaxing remnants of culinary delight from plates and utensils, while Yoongi’s skilled hands swoop in to dry or load the dishwasher with practiced precision. Together, you orchestrate a symphony of cleanliness, ensuring that each piece finds its place in the grand choreography of post-meal tidying.

Amidst the clatter of dishes and the rhythm of your shared tasks, a lively exchange of banter ensues between you and Yoongi, punctuated by shared laughter and good-natured chuckles. 

At times, Jimin saunters over to your side, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down your back and lingering provocatively on your curves, eliciting a delicious shiver that dances along your spine. With a mischievous grin, he retreats as swiftly as he arrived, returning to his culinary duties alongside Soo-ah, leaving you to catch your breath amidst the lingering sensation of his teasing touch.

As Yoongi leans in closer, a flicker of curiosity dances in your eyes, prompting you to meet his gaze with a quizzical expression. With a subtle tilt of your head, you offer a small smile, your hands deftly maneuvering a plate beneath the cascading water as you await his next move with intrigued anticipation.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Yoongi starts, leaning closer into your side with a conspiratorial air, his voice dropping to a low murmur meant for your ears only. A playful glint dances in his eyes as a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “But you’ve got a little something in your hair,” he reveals, gesturing subtly to the stray wisps of hay that have nestled themselves into your locks, punctuating his observation with light-hearted amusement.

A rush of fear and embarrassment floods your wide eyes, igniting a fiery blush that paints your cheeks and neck in a kaleidoscope of pink hues, accentuated by the lingering traces of purple marks adorning your skin.

Yoongi’s hand ascends to your hair, deftly plucking out a few stray strands of hay, and a wave of mortification washes over you at the sight of the offending debris caught in his grasp. Across the kitchen, Jimin catches a glimpse of the scene, his chuckle floating through the air like a whispered secret before he disappears from view, leaving you to contend with the embarrassment in the aftermath.

“Did you have a good roll in the hay?” Yoongi’s voice rings with playful amusement, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he teases you, a giggle bubbling forth at the sight of your bemused expression.

As the water ceases its flow, you stand there, arms crossed beneath your chest, a sudden realization dawning upon you. The memory of your not-so-silent escapade in the stables floods your mind, causing a flush to rise to your cheeks and a hint of embarrassment to flicker in your eyes.

He continues to pluck away the stubborn remnants of hay from your hair, and a shared laughter bubbles forth between you, mingling with the lingering traces of embarrassment. Despite the slight blush staining your cheeks, the infectious joy in Yoongi's laughter draws out your own.

“You’re welcome by the way,” he quips, flashing you a playful wink as he grabs a bowl to dry with the towel, his gesture laced with a hint of mischief.

The weight of gratitude settles upon you as you fully grasp his unspoken act of rescue, sparing you and Jimin from a potentially embarrassing discovery. Meeting his gaze, you convey your heartfelt appreciation. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words carrying the weight of unspoken understanding and relief.

His smile widens, punctuated by a playful swat with the towel against your arm. “No biggie,” he reassures with a casual shrug, his easy going demeanor underscoring the depth of his friendship and the simplicity of his gesture.

Soo-ah pivots, her gaze locking onto you with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “What are you talking about?” she inquires, her voice tinged with a hint of anticipation, as if sensing that the conversation holds secrets yet to be revealed.

With the food safely stowed away in the fridge and freezer, Soo-ah strides over to Yoongi’s side, her eagerness to lend a hand evident as she joins him in the task of drying the dishes you’ve diligently cleaned. 

You shake your head, a silent plea to Yoongi not to reveal the details, preferring to keep the incident in the hay room of the stables under wraps. “We’re talking about the hay room in the stables,” yet, Yoongi’s words cut through the silence, laying bare the topic of conversation before Soo-ah.

Your eyes widen in a silent plea, urging Yoongi to respect your wish for discretion, but when he divulges the topic anyway, you react instinctively. With a stern hit to his arm, he recoils with an audible “ouch,” a testament to the force of your reproach and the gravity of the situation at hand.

“What about it?” Soo-ah’s question hangs in the air, her eyes alight with curiosity, a spark of intrigue dancing within their depths as she awaits your response, poised on the edge of anticipation.

“It’s a popular spot,” Yoongi remarks, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, “for hooking up.”

A rosy blush spreads across her cheeks as she turns to you, her laughter bubbling forth like an irrepressible fountain. “Is that why you have hay in your hair?” she quips, the realization dawning on her with a delightful twinkle in her eyes.

You grumble and huff, unable to hide your exasperation. “Has everyone noticed?” you grouse, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration creeping over you.

Jimin returns to the kitchen at precisely this moment, his keen eyes catching sight of your discontented demeanor. Without hesitation, he crosses the room to your side, his hand gently finding its place on your hips as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your neck, his comforting presence a soothing balm to your unsettled emotions.

You pivot to meet your boyfriend's gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement playing across your features. “Did you know I had hay in my hair?” you inquire, a hint of playful accusation lacing your words as you await his response.

His eyes flicker to your hair, and a burst of laughter escapes his lips, mirroring the reaction of Soo-ah and Yoongi. With a gentle pat on your head, his hand traces a tender path down your face, delicately caressing your cheeks before coming to rest on your bottom lip. “I had no idea,” he confesses softly, his tone tinged with regret.

“But you still look stunning, even with a little hay in your hair,” he murmurs, drawing you close as he presses his lips to yours. In that moment, all traces of anger and embarrassment melt away, replaced by the warmth and reassurance of his affectionate embrace. The kiss is deep and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.

Beside you, Yoongi’s suppressed snickers fill the air.

“If you two scoot over a bit, I can take care of the rest,” Yoongi suggests, his chuckle carrying a hint of amusement as you and Jimin gladly make room for him in front of the sink.

You gaze up at Jimin’s face, noticing the adorable scatter of moles across his features, adding to his irresistible charm. “Would you like to join me for a bath?” you propose, a playful twinkle in your eye as you extend the invitation.

He hums softly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and desire. In that moment, you can feel the depth of his love radiating from him, intertwined with a hint of excitement at your proposal. “Absolutely,” he responds, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “I’d love nothing more than to pamper you, scrub your skin and wash your hair.”

A grateful smile graces your lips as you reflect on the depth of your appreciation for him and all the ways he shows his care. The thought of him eagerly offering to wash your hair and tend to your body fills you with a profound sense of gratitude, a feeling you’ve never experienced with any previous partner.

Soo-ah’s gasp beside Yoongi prompts a swift turn of her head towards you and Jimin, her eyes widening in disbelief. “He washes your hair for you?” She exclaims, her voice tinged with both surprise and admiration. The sight of her puppy-dog eyes and genuine happiness paints a poignant picture, her wistful longing palpable as she expresses her heartfelt sentiment. “That’s absolutely sweet,” she continues, her words laced with a hint of envy. “I wish I had a boyfriend like that, or even just a boyfriend at all.”

You offer Soo-ah a compassionate smile, your heart swelling with gratitude for Jimin and the abundance of love he showers upon you. His arms envelop you in a tender embrace, his words a soothing melody that resonates deep within your soul. “Anything for my love,” he murmurs, his voice infused with sincerity and devotion, reaffirming the depth of his affection for you.

You tenderly press your lips to his, intertwining your fingers with his as you lead him away from the kitchen and into the bathroom. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you lock eyes with him, pouring your heart out in a soft declaration of love. “I love you so much, Jimin,” you whisper, sealing your words with another lingering kiss. With playful excitement, you gently guide him into the bathroom, a chorus of smiles and giggles filling the air as you close the door behind you, cocooned in the warmth of your love for each other.

Rumors have been swirling around town lately, particularly at the local bar, alleging mistreatment of horses at a neighboring farm—an unsettling notion that strikes a chord deep within Yoongi. Compounding his concern is the fact that some of these horses are the very ones you’ve spent countless hours training. Feeling a sense of responsibility and urgency, he grapples with the realization that action must be taken, though the path forward remains unclear.

Deep in contemplation, Yoongi grips his beer tightly, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily upon him. With a determined resolve, he sets his drink down on the bar and strides purposefully out of the building, his steps carrying him through the winding streets and straight to the doors of the police station. There, he hopes to find allies in his quest to liberate the mistreated horses from the clutches of their neglectful owner.

Stepping into the dimly lit confines of the police station, Yoongi's determination radiates from every fiber of his being as he seeks out an officer, his plea for assistance delivered with earnest conviction. Yet, his hopes are dashed when he learns that without concrete evidence against the horse's abuser, the hands of the law are tied. Disheartened but undeterred, he offers a begrudging nod of gratitude to the officers before turning on his heels and trudging out of the building, the weight of his disappointment heavy upon his shoulders as he makes his way back to his truck.

As darkness cloaks the landscape, casting shadows that dance across his determined features, Yoongi’s mind churns with purpose. The officer’s words echo in his mind—a relentless reminder of the need for concrete evidence to bring justice to the abuser of these innocent animals. With a determined resolve, he inserts the key into the ignition, igniting the engine with a determined hum as he steers his car back towards Bell Ranch. But just as he nears the familiar route, he makes a split-second decision, veering off the path towards the ranch of the despicable man he's heard so much about. If only he had been aware when he sold some of your horses to him—had he known, he would never have allowed it to happen. Now, knowing that Holly, one of those horses, is among the mistreated, his heart weighs heavy with regret and anger. Unable to stand idly by while these animals suffer, Yoongi’s sense of duty propels him forward, his resolve unyielding in the face of injustice.

With a keen sense of caution, Yoongi refrains from driving directly to the ranch—after all, he’s no fool. Instead, he parks his car discreetly further down the road, determined not to arouse any suspicion. With his camera firmly gripped in his hand, he embarks on the remaining journey to the ranch on foot, each step a calculated move towards uncovering the truth hidden within its confines.

Indeed, this clandestine excursion had been meticulously plotted long before his visit to the police station—a testament to Yoongi’s unwavering determination to seek justice for the mistreated animals. With a resigned acceptance of the limitations of official channels, he had braced himself for the realization that the burden of action rested squarely upon his own shoulders.

As Yoongi stealthily approaches, his gaze locks onto the scene before him—a chilling image of cruelty unfolding right before his eyes. There stands the man, lazily lounging one of the horses, its fur matted and cut short along its legs, bearing silent witness to its mistreatment. His blood boils at the sight, a surge of empathy coursing through him for the suffering animal. In the man’s hand, a cruel whip glints in the dim light, its menacing presence a stark reminder of the pain and coercion inflicted upon the helpless creature to force it to perform.

Despite the rising nausea in his gut, Yoongi steels himself and raises his camera, capturing the harrowing scene before him in a series of haunting images. Every click of the shutter serves as a painful reminder of the injustice unfolding before his eyes. His heart aches with the urge to intervene, to rescue the suffering horse from its tormentor’s grasp. The crack of the whip and the horse’s pained whine fuel his righteous indignation, threatening to shatter his resolve as he fights the urge to rush forward and confront the evil man.

Yet, as much as he longs to intervene, a nagging sense of caution restrains him—instinctively aware of the potential repercussions should he act impulsively. With a heavy heart, he resigns himself to the agonizing reality that capturing evidence through his camera lens is the safer course of action, despite the torment it inflicts upon his soul. Each click of the shutter serves as a solemn vow to seek justice for the abused horse, even as it tears at the very fabric of his being.

With a heavy heart, he ventures deeper into the heart of the ranch, his steps echoing in the dimly lit stables. Each stall he passes reveals a new horror—every horse bearing the cruel scars of neglect, their once majestic forms now reduced to emaciated shadows of their former selves. Anguish courses through him as he stands witness to their suffering, his fists clenching in futile rage.

As he continues down the aisle, his gaze falls upon Holly—a wave of devastation washing over him at the sight of his old friend. She stands before him, a mere shell of her former self, her once graceful frame now reduced to a skeletal silhouette. Her hooves are overgrown, her coat matted and unkempt, a testament to the neglect she has endured. His hand trembles as he reaches out to comfort her, but she flinches away from his touch, a painful reminder of the betrayal she has suffered. A single tear escapes his eye, tracing a path down his cheek as he stands helplessly before her, consumed by a sense of despair.

His heart plummets like a stone to the floor, shattered by the heartbreaking realization that Holly no longer seems to recognize him. Her gaze is distant, devoid of the spark of recognition that once lit up her eyes, and the pain cuts deep into his chest like a knife. With a heavy heart, he raises his camera, each snapshot a painful reminder of the profound loss he feels inside. Despite the searing ache that grips his soul, he is determined to capture every detail of her suffering, a silent vow to stand witness to the injustices inflicted upon her.

With a heavy heart and a mind fraught with determination, he concludes that the harrowing scenes he's documented are evidence enough to expose the horrors endured by these innocent creatures. However, his mission is far from over—he must now navigate the treacherous path back to his car without drawing the attention of the ranch's owner or his cronies. Every step he takes is laden with tension, every rustle of leaves a potential threat, as he maneuvers through the shadows, his heart pounding with the urgency of his mission.

With his camera clutched tightly in his hand, Yoongi sprints back to his truck, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Each breath comes in ragged gasps as he propels himself forward, his palms slick with sweat, the weight of his mission bearing down upon him like a crushing weight.

Finally reaching his truck, he flings open the door and slides inside, the engine roaring to life beneath him as he tears away from the ranch in a whirlwind of desperation. As the miles blur past, his mind reels with the stark reality of what he has witnessed—the sheer magnitude of suffering far surpassing anything he had ever imagined.

The image of Holly, once vibrant and full of life, now reduced to a mere shadow of herself, haunts him relentlessly. Anguish gnaws at his soul as he grapples with the knowledge that he cannot stand idly by while such atrocities continue to unfold.

Determined to be the voice for those who cannot speak for themselves, Yoongi vows to take action—to put an end to the cycle of cruelty and neglect that plagues these innocent creatures. 

As he pulls into the yard, Yoongi’s gaze scans the surroundings, his heart skipping a beat when he catches sight of you—your figure moving gracefully across the yard, a beacon of warmth and familiarity amidst the darkness of his thoughts. With a sense of urgency, he calls out to you, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night, and watches as you turn towards him, your steps quickening as you close the distance between you.

“What are you doing out so late, Yoon?” you inquire, a radiant smile gracing your lips, your eyes alight with a joy that Yoongi finds utterly captivating. In that moment, he can’t help but marvel at the sheer happiness radiating from you—more vibrant and infectious than he's seen in a long while. It dawns on him that maybe Jimin’s presence in your life has brought about this newfound joy, and despite any personal struggles he may have, he's genuinely thrilled to see you flourishing in the embrace of love.

His gaze snaps up to meet yours, a flicker of intensity dancing in his eyes. “Just taking some pictures,” he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency as he raises his camera, its presence a tangible reminder of the weighty mission he's undertaken. Intrigued, you follow his gesture, your eyes locking onto the camera in his hand, curiosity sparking within you as you ponder the significance behind his late-night photography session.

You reach out for it, your hand extending eagerly as you inquire, “Can I see?” But in your eagerness, you bypass the customary waiting for his response, instead seizing the camera from his grasp with an impulsive determination. With practiced ease, you power it on, your fingers deftly navigating through the digital gallery of images, each click of the button revealing another glimpse into the horrorful world he’s captured through his lens.

He watches intently as your eyes widen in shock and a deep furrow creases your brow, your reaction a visceral testament to the gravity of the images before you. Each flicker of discomfort that crosses your features is like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of the suffering he’s witnessed and the burden he now shares with you. Despite his desire to shield you from such distressing sights, he remains steadfast.

“What’s this?” you inquire, your voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and unease as you return the camera to his outstretched hand. The tremor in your voice doesn’t escape his notice, a stark indication of the emotional toll wrought by the distressing images you've just been confronted with. In that moment, he’s acutely aware of the weight of his actions, grappling with the realization that his quest for justice has inadvertently exposed you to a world of suffering that he would have shielded you from if he could.

“I heard about this guy mistreating his horses, so I went to take a look for myself,” he explains, his voice tinged with a potent mix of frustration and righteous indignation. Each word carries the weight of his emotions, his tone a reflection of the deep-seated anger and despair that churn within him. “It’s horrible,” he concludes, his voice heavy with the weight of the injustices he's witnessed, his resolve hardened by the stark reality of the situation.

“We have to do something about it!” you declare, your voice ringing with a resolute determination that commands attention. As you speak, a fierce resolve animates your features, your eyes ablaze with an unwavering commitment to righting the wrongs you've just borne witness to. The subtle set of your lips into a firm line only serves to underscore the steely resolve that propels your words forward, a silent vow to take action in the face of injustice.

He scuffs, the sound underscored by a palpable frustration that permeates the air. “That’s why I gathered evidence,” he admits, his words carrying the weight of his determination and the gravity of the situation they find themselves in. 

“No, Yoongi. We can’t wait any longer. We have to save the horses, now,” you implore, your voice laced with urgency and a hint of desperation. With every word, you convey a sense of urgency that underscores the dire need for immediate action. Your plea carries the weight of compassion and empathy, a heartfelt call to arms in defense of the innocent creatures suffering at the hands of cruelty.

He gapes at you in disbelief, grappling with the gravity of your suggestion. The intensity of your conviction leaves him momentarily stunned—of course he wants to save the horses, but what you’re proposing borders on the edge of legality. The weight of the potential consequences looms heavy in his mind, a sobering reminder of the risks they would be undertaking.

“I don’t care about the potential repercussions. Those poor horses need us,” you declare with unwavering determination, your voice resonating with an urgency that brooks no argument. With each word, you convey a sense of righteous indignation and compassion, compelling him to action with the sheer force of your conviction. Your plea reverberates in the air, a rallying cry that demands immediate attention and action.

“Holly is one of the horses,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with defeat, a tinge of sorrow coloring his words. With a resigned gesture, he kicks at the stones scattered across the dirt, the sound echoing the weight of his disappointment and anguish. In that simple statement lies a world of pain and regret, as he grapples with the harsh reality of seeing his beloved horse subjected to such cruelty.

“What the fuck are we waiting for?” You exclaim, your frustration palpable as you confront him with a fierce intensity. It’s clear that you've reached your limit with his indecision, and with a swift motion, you deftly snatch the keys from his hand. Without hesitation, you move past him, swinging open the driver’s door and sliding behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life under your command. “Get in, Yoongi,” you command, your tone leaving no room for argument as you signal your unwavering determination to take action.

You sound furious, and maybe rightfully so—he feels the same anger coursing through his veins. Damn it, he wants to save them too. With a heavy heart, he slides into the passenger seat, yielding to your determination as you take control of the wheel. As you speed back towards the ranch, his directions guide your path, a silent acknowledgment of the shared resolve burning within both of you to make a difference.

The drive is brief, but each passing moment feels weighted with anticipation and purpose. He directs you to park in the very same spot where he had stopped earlier, a silent reminder of the urgency and gravity of the mission ahead. As you bring the vehicle to a halt, the air crackles with tension.

You both leap out of the truck, propelled by a shared sense of urgency and purpose, and advance towards the ranch shrouded in darkness. Despite the obscurity that surrounds you, you navigate effortlessly towards the stables, your determination cutting through the night like a beacon. With a heavy heart, he leads you to Holly’s stall, where he reveals the heartbreaking sight of her current condition. As you lay eyes on her, a deep furrow forms on your brow, your expression mirroring the anguish and sorrow that grips your soul at the sight of her suffering.

With a determined resolve, Yoongi cautiously swings open the stall door, his movements deliberate as he beckons Holly to approach him in the enveloping darkness. The dimness cloaks your actions, a deliberate choice to avoid drawing unwanted attention to your clandestine mission. In the shadows, you both stand poised, silently willing Holly to trust you amidst the palpable tension that hangs thick in the air.

“Come on, girl,” Yoongi murmurs in a soothing tone, his voice a gentle melody cutting through the stillness of the night as he endeavors to coax Holly out of her stall. Despite his best efforts, however, the bond between them appears strained, the connection faltering in the face of Holly's evident apprehension. Each whispered plea hangs in the air, an earnest plea for trust and understanding in the midst of uncertainty.

Suddenly, the harsh glare of light floods the stable, casting stark shadows that betray your presence in the otherwise darkened space. In that moment, a shared realization dawns upon both of you—an unspoken acknowledgment that your covert mission has been compromised. The abrupt illumination serves as an ominous harbinger of trouble, a stark reminder that your clandestine efforts to rescue Holly have been uncovered, plunging you both into a perilous predicament.

You move closer to Yoongi, seeking solace and solidarity in the face of impending danger. Side by side, you stand united in front of Holly, a silent bastion of strength amidst the encroaching threat. As the man draws nearer, the air crackles with tension, but you refuse to falter, bolstered by the unspoken determination to protect each other and the helpless creature before you.

“Who’s there?” his voice cuts through the tense silence, laden with an ominous weight that sends shivers down your spine. Each heavy footstep reverberates ominously, signaling his approach with a menacing cadence. As he draws closer to Holly's stall, the air hangs heavy with anticipation, the imminent confrontation looming like a shadowy specter. With bated breath, you brace yourselves for the inevitable encounter.

“What are you two doing here?” He demands, his voice a sharp echo slicing through the tension-laden air. His gaze pierces through you with a mixture of confusion and displeasure, each furrowed brow and narrowed eye conveying his suspicion and disdain. In that moment, you feel the weight of his scrutiny bearing down upon you, as if every syllable is a challenge that demands an answer—a challenge you must navigate with caution and cunning.

You seize Yoongi’s hand with a fierce intensity, your grip conveying a tidal wave of pent-up anger that courses through your palm like a surge of electricity, pulsating with raw emotion. In that charged moment, he can feel the seething rage reverberating within you, mirroring the tumultuous turmoil that churns within his own being. It’s as if the palpable fury radiating from your touch connects you both in a shared symphony of indignation, binding you together in defiance against the injustice unfolding before you.

“This is cruelty!” Your voice rings out, sharp and resolute, carrying the weight of your indignation like a battle cry echoing through the stillness of the night. With a pointed gesture, you direct the man’s attention towards Holly, your anger etched in every line of your face. 

The man scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips like a venomous taunt that pierces through the solemn air, leaving a bitter taste in its wake. Your reaction is visceral, a wince born of both frustration and disgust, as you recoil from the callousness of his response. 

“We are taking the horses,” Yoongi declares, his voice cutting through the tension like a clarion call, his stance resolute as he steps protectively in front of you. In that defiant gesture, he embodies a steadfast determination to stand against injustice, his words echoing with unwavering resolve amidst the turmoil of the moment. Beside him, you feel a surge of solidarity, your spirits bolstered by his unwavering courage in the face of adversity.

“You’re stealing them?” The man’s voice crackles with incredulity, his tone laced with a volatile mix of irritation and anger that threatens to erupt like a smoldering volcano. His accusatory gaze pierces through the darkness, locking onto Yoongi with a searing intensity that demands an explanation.

“No. We’re saving them,” you declare with unwavering conviction, your voice ringing out with a resolute clarity that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of righteousness. With your chest thrust forward and your head held high, you exude a palpable aura of strength and determination, commanding respect in the face of adversity. In that defiant stance, he finds himself admiring your unwavering resolve, your steadfast commitment to standing tall in defense of what you believe is right, no matter the cost.

“That sounds like stealing to me,” he scoffs, his laughter bitter and laden with contempt, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. With a cynical twist of his lips, he retrieves his phone, his intentions clear as he prepares to summon the authorities. Yoongi can sense the impending threat, the urgency of the moment weighing heavily upon him as he bristles with anticipation, poised for whatever comes next.

You both watch in dismay as he dials the police, the harsh reality sinking in as he locks the stall door, trapping you both inside with no means of escape. The metallic clang of the lock reverberates through the stillness of the night, a chilling reminder of your precarious situation. In that confined space, tension hangs thick in the air, your hearts pounding in unison with the weight of impending consequences bearing down upon you.

“The police are on their way now,” he chuckles with a menacing edge, his voice dripping with satisfaction at having cornered you in this precarious predicament. 

Aware of the imminent danger looming over both of you, Yoongi’s mind races with desperate determination. Amidst the chaos, a flicker of hope ignites within him as he recalls the evidence stored safely in his truck—undeniable proof of the atrocities witnessed tonight. If only he could reach it in time, if only he could present it to the authorities when they arrive. With every fiber of his being, he clings to this glimmer of optimism, his resolve steeling him against the encroaching darkness as he plots his next move, knowing that redemption lies just beyond his grasp.

He watches intently as you swiftly retrieve your phone, fingers dancing across the screen with purposeful urgency. In that moment, a wave of apprehension washes over him, a silent understanding dawning as he realizes you're likely reaching out to Jimin for help. 

As the tense minutes stretch on, Yoongi’s heart aches with a profound sense of helplessness. With Holly cowering in the corner, her fear palpable in the dimly lit stall, a surge of indignation courses through him. The sight of her trembling form ignites a fierce determination within him to protect her at all costs. Yet, the sinister presence of the man blocking your escape serves as a stark reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourselves in. Trapped within the confines of the stall, Yoongi’s mind races with fervent desperation, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. Every passing second feels like an eternity, each beat of his heart a silent plea for deliverance from this harrowing ordeal.

As the heavy wooden doors of the stables swing open, revealing the ominous silhouette of two officers, a surge of mixed emotions washes over Yoongi. Among them stands the familiar face of the officer he had spoken to earlier in the night, recognition flickering in his gaze as it falls upon Yoongi. Caught off guard by the unexpected reunion, Yoongi's lips curve into a lopsided smile, a nervous habit betraying his attempt at nonchalance as he absently scratches his head. 

“What seems to be the problem?” The other officer, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade, directs his inquiry at the man standing before them. 

“These two here are trying to steal my horses,” the man’s accusation slices through the tension like a blade, his voice dripping with venom as he points an accusatory finger at Yoongi and you. 

Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on the officers, observing their scrutiny as they shift their attention between you and the hurt horses. The weight of their words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. 

“You’re aware that theft is a punishable offense, aren’t you?” Their inquiry is not just a question but a warning, echoing with the imminent threat of consequences.

“We’re obliged to bring you in,” the other officer asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he delivers the unwelcome verdict.

In a sudden, welcomed twist, Jimin strides into the stable with a confident swagger, a smile lighting up his face as he carries Yoongi’s camera in his hand, carrying the hope and evidence that you need.

“Officers, hold on a moment,” Jimin interjects, his voice carrying a firm but composed tone as he approaches them. The man’s gaze shifts from Jimin to you, his expression sour and unsettling, a silent testament to his apprehension. Yoongi senses the tension escalating, his concern growing with each passing second.

“You need to see this. It’s undeniable proof of what’s happening here,” Jimin urges, extending the camera to the police officers. With a sense of urgency, they take the camera and begin to review the images, their expressions shifting as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

Returning the camera to Jimin, Yoongi observes as Jimin casts a tender glance your way, his smile a silent reassurance. The officers then redirect their attention to the man, their expressions stern. “This constitutes animal cruelty, which is a serious offense,” they assert firmly.

“Please come with us,” one of the officers requests firmly, reaching for the man, who begins to resist, his actions reflecting his desperation to evade justice.

“What about them? They were trying to steal my horses!” He bellows in panic, his voice echoing in the dimly lit barn as the officers firmly escort him out, his frantic protests fading into the night.

“They haven’t stolen anything yet,” one of the officers declares, his voice cutting through the tense air like a beacon of reason, a reassuring nod directed at Yoongi, Jimin, and you.

Relief washes over Yoongi like a cool breeze on a scorching day. His hand instinctively finds its way through his hair, fingers threading through strands as if to anchor himself in the moment. A wave of adrenaline slowly recedes, leaving behind a sense of calm amidst the storm. That was too close for comfort.

He observes as you cast a tender glance at Jimin, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you. With purposeful steps, Jimin approaches, swinging open the stall door to free you both. Without hesitation, you leap into the waiting arms of your boyfriend, seeking solace and security in his embrace.

“Did you bring the trailer?” You inquire of Jimin, a grin lighting up your features as you lean in for a swift yet affectionate kiss.

“Of course,” Jimin chuckles, his hands settling on your hips reassuringly.

Yoongi gazes at both of you, a hint of confusion knitting his brows together.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi’s voice carries a tone of bewilderment as he directs his gaze between you and Jimin, his curiosity piqued.

“She asked me to bring the horse trailer so we could take the horses home with us,” Jimin’s words sink in, and Yoongi’s eyes widen with understanding, a glimmer of admiration flickering within them. As he turns to you, a silent gratitude fills the air, acknowledging your quick wit and resourcefulness.

“Let’s bring Holly home,” you declare with determination, your smile radiant as you clasp Jimin’s hand in gratitude for his timely assistance. As you envelop your boyfriend in a warm embrace, Yoongi redirects his attention to Holly, patiently coaxing her out of the stall. Though it requires effort, his perseverance prevails, and soon Holly steps out into the dim light of the stable, her eyes reflecting a newfound hope.

He’s overjoyed by the favorable outcome, relieved that you and Jimin intervened to rescue him and the poor horses. And, goodness, you should be elated that the police officers didn’t haul your asses away for trespassing.

Every damn thing is agony. You’ve exhausted every remedy in your arsenal. You attempted riding, hoping movement might ease the ache. 

No dice. 

Ice and heat packs offered fleeting relief at best. But the pain? Unyielding. 

It’s a relentless torment, and you’re at your wits’ end.

Thus, you’ve sought solace in Jimin’s bedroom—or is it yours by now? After spending countless nights here, the lines blur, leaving you uncertain of where one space ends and the other begins.

You push open the door, your weary frame yearning for the comfort of the bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, your body meets it with a resounding thud, a symphony of exhaustion echoing through the room as you bury your face into the softness of the sheets, emitting a muffled groan of discomfort.

The sheets envelop you in their soft embrace, a familiar comfort that whispers tales of shared moments with Jimin – cuddles, tender kisses trailing along your neck. Infused with his signature musky scent, now mingled with your own, they offer solace to your weary mind, lulling your senses into a state of tranquility as you surrender to their gentle caress.

You draw your knees up to your chest, cocooning yourself in a protective embrace, silently pleading for the relentless pain to subside – a relentless companion that has plagued your entire day. In moments like these, you question how you manage to accomplish anything amidst this unyielding torment. Yet, surrendering to it is not an option; you refuse to grant the pain dominion over your spirit. Sickness is an unwelcome adversary, casting you into a disheartening abyss of vulnerability, a place you rarely visit.

You shut your eyes tightly, yearning for the solace of sleep to envelop you, if only to grant respite from the relentless ache gnawing at your stomach. The unwelcome arrival of your period compounds your discomfort, adding insult to injury. Oh, how you despise this monthly intrusion, an unwelcome visitor overstaying its welcome.

The door whispers open, and even before the hinges complete their eerie symphony, you sense his presence—Jimin, your ever-watchful guardian, silently slipping into the room. His quiet footsteps echo with a tenderness that speaks volumes, a familiar comfort that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

As the mattress yields to his weight, a gentle hand finds its place atop your hip bone, a soothing anchor in the storm of your discomfort. His voice, a soft melody of concern, washes over you like a gentle wave, carrying with it a warmth that beckons you to surrender to its embrace, “What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s just my period,” you murmur, the words heavy with discomfort, as you wrap your arms around yourself in a silent attempt to ease the ache.

His hand glides up your body, a comforting warmth that sends delicate shivers down your spine. “Let me help,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You whimper softly at his touch, feeling the tension in your body begin to ease as his hand settles gently on your stomach. Drawing you closer, he envelops you in his strong, reassuring embrace, his warmth seeping into your bones. The scent of his skin fills your senses, intoxicating and familiar, as he nestles his head against your neck, his warm breath caressing your earlobe, sending delicious shivers down your spine. With tender care, his hand applies a gentle pressure to your stomach, offering comfort in the midst of your discomfort.

“Is this alright?” He murmurs softly, drawing himself nearer, his presence enveloping you completely. You sense every contour of his form, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the rhythmic thud of his heart, his warmth seeping into your skin. Your senses are heightened, acutely aware of his closeness, from the gentle pressure of his body to the tantalizing proximity of his hips against yours, with his dick pressing on your ass. With every inch of him pressed against you, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a deep-seated longing within you. His powerful thighs brush against yours, his feet intertwining with yours in a tender embrace, as if seeking solace in your hold.

“Yes, Jimin. You’re incredible,” you whisper with a sigh, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away from your body. Finally, a sense of tranquility washes over you, as if his touch has the power to soothe all your worries and pains.

The sensation of his hand on your lower stomach is nothing short of heavenly, each gentle caress a balm to your aching body. His mere presence, his unwavering support, threatens to bring tears to your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his kindness. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as if your heart could burst with an abundance of love and gratitude.

His lips trace a path of warmth along your neck, each kiss igniting a delightful shiver down your spine. A soft chuckle escapes you, but as his lips continue their tantalizing journey, you find yourself squirming in his firm embrace. A playful movement causes your backside to brush against his crotch, and in that instant, you’re acutely aware of his growing erection.

“Jimin,” you chuckle, but his lips continue their delicious assault on your neck, seemingly oblivious to your protest. With each tender kiss, you feel yourself melting further into his embrace. Finally, unable to resist any longer, you turn to face him, your eyes locking in a silent dance of desire.

“You’re hard,” you state, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with both softness and a hint of lust. Your gaze locks with his, a silent invitation hanging in the air, accentuated by the subtle nip of your lower lip.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his voice a husky melody that sends shivers down your spine. His laughter, like music to your ears, fills the room with a warmth that envelops you both. His hand, now back on your hips, moves with a gentle rhythm, tracing soothing circles that melt away the tension, leaving only the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.

You release a soft, involuntary moan as his touch ignites a fire within you. With each knead of your hip, his fingers trace a path of desire, sliding down to the curve of your ass with deliberate, tantalizing slowness.

As he skillfully works the muscles of your ass, your hand ventures downward, drawn to the undeniable bulge in his devilish black sweatpants. The outline of his dick is unmistakable, beckoning you with its tantalizing presence. With eager anticipation, you seize his cock through the fabric, eliciting a low, guttural groan of pleasure from his lips.

“I want to touch you, to make you come,” you implore, your gaze pleading as you offer him a glimpse of your longing. Despite the innocence in your eyes, he remains resolute, unmoved by your entreaty.

“No,” he insists firmly, gently removing your hand from his dick. “This is about you. Let me ease your discomfort,” he adds, his voice tender as he redirects your focus to your own needs. “Trust me, it’s fine,” he murmurs reassuringly, his touch promising solace and relief.

He rises from the bed, his silhouette carved by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and sits up while you remain reclined. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs, his voice a husky murmur that stirs a tingle of anticipation. “But keep your panties on,” he adds with a hint of restraint, his hand threading through his tousled hair. Even in the dim light, you can discern the subtle tension in his body, the silent yearning echoed in the strain of his form-fitting sweatpants, showcasing his cock wonderfully.

While laying down, he assists you in shedding your garments with gentle precision. His fingers deftly navigate the buttons and zippers of your pants, easing them over your hips and down your legs until they are scattered at the floor. With a tender touch, he removes your socks, his fingertips grazing your skin in a playful dance that elicits a fleeting giggle from you.

His gaze lingers on your panties, a simple yet alluring black lace, and a soft admiration gleams in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine appreciation for the sight before him.

His touch ignites a tingling sensation across your skin as his fingers dance over your body, coaxing your shirt off with gentle insistence. With a skilled touch, he guides you to sit up, his hands tracing a tantalizing path up your torso until they find the clasp of your bra. Effortlessly, he releases it, setting your breasts free, and his warm palms cup them delicately. “So soft and beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your skin, as he revels in the intimacy of the moment.

Your breath catches in your throat as a soft moan escapes your lips, your body responding eagerly to his caress. With each lingering touch, a wave of arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within that yearns for more of his intoxicating embrace.

“Now lay down on your stomach first,” he instructs, his gaze tracing the curves of your body with hunger, his tongue darting out as if you’re a delectable feast waiting to be savored.

You sink into the bed, enveloped in his familiar musky aroma, a comforting embrace for your senses. His hands start at your neck and shoulders, his presence pressing gently over you, as he straddles your ass, his weight a reassuring anchor. With skilled precision, he works your muscles like a master baker kneading dough, each movement easing the knots of tension from your body. The touch is firm yet tender, and with each stroke, you feel the weight of the day lifting from your skin, leaving you adrift in a sea of relaxation.

His hands, like skilled artists, glide down your back, tracing the curves of your shoulder blades with delicate precision. The sensation is exquisite, sending tingles cascading down your spine. His touch is a symphony of pleasure, each stroke orchestrating a chorus of sighs and gasps from your lips. And beneath it all, you feel the subtle rhythm of his dick pulsating against your ass, a silent melody of passion that dances in harmony with your own.

His hands continue their journey, traversing the landscape of your back with a tender firmness that speaks volumes of his skill. Each movement is deliberate, mapping out a path of relief along your ribcage and tracing the contours of your spine with an expert touch. It’s a paradox of strength and gentleness, his fingers like whispers against your skin, soothing away the knots of tension with practiced ease.

He positions himself lower, settling onto your thighs with a deliberate intent, his hands now gliding over the expanse of your lower back. The sensation is exquisite, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body, evoking a deep, primal response. A needy moan escapes your lips, punctuating the air with a symphony of desire, and you can feel the immediate response of his cock against your skin.

With a gentle tug, he eases the edge of your panties down slightly, allowing him better access to massage the curves of your ass. A deep, guttural groan of pleasure escapes you as his skilled hands work wonders on your body, each motion a symphony of blissful sensations. It’s an exquisite dance of touch and response, leaving you utterly captivated by the sheer intensity of his ministrations.

Fuck it feels so good.

“Do you like it?” He inquires, his voice laced with a playful edge that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s as if you can feel the warmth of his smile in his words, his teasing tone igniting a spark of anticipation within you.

“Fuck, yes,” you moan, feeling as though you’re melting into the sheets beneath you, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. A bead of sweat forms on your brow, mingling with the dampness of anticipation, as if your body can't contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

You think you’re drooling too, maybe from more than one place.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine, as he pulls your panties back up and shifts to sit beside you. His hands firmly grasp the curves of your ass, kneading with a skill that leaves you breathless. Every touch ignites a fire within you, a fierce longing that consumes your senses, driving you to the edge of desire with each caress.

His hands glide downward, tracing the contours of your thighs, down to your calves, and finally reaching your feet. With a gentle touch, he massages each toe, sending a delightful tingle through your body that elicits a soft, involuntary giggle from your lips.

“Turn around, love,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a playful tone, punctuated by a gentle spank on your ass.

You twist your body to face him, your nipples erect and inviting, a sight that elicits a tender smile from him. “You really like it, huh?” He chuckles, his eyes dancing with affection as you settle onto your back, eager for his touch once more.

He begins with your feet, cradling one in his hands and working his fingers expertly into the arch, easing away the day’s tension. Then, with the same care and attention, he turns to the other foot, his touch gentle yet firm, coaxing relaxation from every muscle.

With a feather-light touch, he glides his hands up your legs, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your skin as if each stroke is a whispered promise of comfort and solace.

As his hands start to massage your hip with the gentlest of touches, eliciting a soft moan from your lips, you’re overwhelmed by the sheer bliss coursing through your body. Every caress feels like a blissful release, easing away the tension and leaving you floating in a sea of pleasure.

His hands ascend to your stomach, and a cascade of shivers dances across your skin, ignited by his tender touch. Each stroke feels imbued with love and affection, as if he’s painting delicate strokes of adoration upon your flesh. Despite the sensations, a soft giggle bubbles from within you, tickled by the intimacy and warmth enveloping you.

Anticipation tingles through every fiber of your being as you await the touch you yearn for, expecting his hands to caress your breasts next. Yet, to your surprise, they bypass that destination entirely, gliding over your arms instead. Confusion flickers across your face as you lock eyes with him, seeking answers in his mischievous smirk, which only deepens the mystery of his intentions.

His hands glide over your arms with expert precision, tracing the contours of your biceps and kneading your skin with a delicate touch, as if each stroke is an ode to the strength and grace you possess.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he finally descends to the part where your desires lie most fervently – your breasts.

His touch is both tender and assertive as he cups your breasts, his fingers skillfully exploring every curve and contour, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His voice is a husky whisper against your skin as he murmurs, “Love these,” before lavishing attention on your right breast with soft, tantalizing kisses, igniting a fire of desire within you.

You arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as you instinctively press your body closer to his tantalizing touch, craving more of his affectionate caresses.

As he straddles you, his weight presses against you, a tantalizing pressure that sends a shiver down your spine. Beneath him, you feel the unmistakable warmth of his dick against your crotch, a delicious friction that ignites your senses. Despite his weight, he feels weightless in your embrace, each touch and movement a delicate dance of desire that leaves you yearning for more.

His hands, strong yet tender, caress your breasts with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With expert precision, his fingers trace tantalizing patterns over your sensitive nipples, coaxing them to stiff peaks that ache with desire. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening every sensation until you’re consumed by a whirlwind of ecstasy.

As he pinches them gently, he observes with a hungered gaze as your expression twists in the throes of pleasure, your lips parting in a silent gasp as waves of sensation ripple through you.

“Jimin,” you murmur his name, a plea hanging in the air, laden with uncertainty and desire. In the turmoil of conflicting emotions, you’re unsure of your own wishes. The idea of sex during your period feels messy and uncertain, yet an undeniable need throbs within you, pulling you in conflicting directions.

“What do you want, love?” His voice, a whisper of warmth against your skin, carries the weight of anticipation, lingering on the edge of a kiss yet to come.

His breath, a tantalizing tease, caresses your skin, igniting a longing for his lips to meet yours in a fierce embrace. Frustration mounts as he hesitates, but you refuse to wait any longer. With a desperate pull, you seize his face, drawing him into a kiss overflowing with the depth of your affection.

He breaks away from your lips, his gaze fixated on your face, where a flicker of discomfort dances in your eyes, mingled with a hint of bewilderment.

“I’m torn, Jimin,” you confess, breaths coming in ragged pants, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m so turned on right now, but the thought of sex during my period... it just feels so messy.”

“Of course, my love,” Jimin responds with gentle understanding, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “I completely understand, and I never intended to pressure you. All I want is to soothe your pain and make you feel comfortable.”

With a soft smile, you draw him closer, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, a silent exchange of affection and understanding. As you break away, you meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “Can you just hold me?” you whisper, your voice a gentle plea, seeking solace in his comforting arms.

His touch traces the contours of your face, a gentle caress that ignites a flutter in your chest. From the bridge of your nose to the curve of your cheeks, his fingertips dance with a tender grace, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally, they come to rest at your lips.

“Of course,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your ear as he settles behind you. With a gentle sweep, he tucks the duvet around your mostly bare form, cocooning you both in its warmth. Drawing you close, he molds his body to yours, fitting together like pieces of a perfect puzzle. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses that send tingles down your spine.

You’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re both turned on right now, the magnetic pull drawing you closer with each breath. Despite the electric tension, there’s something undeniably comforting about the way he envelops you, his embrace a sanctuary from the outside world. As his warmth seeps into your skin, mingling with yours, you find yourself entertaining the idea of drifting off in his arms, the allure of intimacy lulling you into a tranquil embrace.

“Do you want to come with me for my wedding dress fitting appointment?” Your sister’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she delicately lifts her glass of water to her lips, anticipation dancing in the air between you both.

“Yeah, when is it?” You reply, a soft smile mirroring the excitement in her eyes. You can’t help but wonder why she hadn’t brought it up sooner, but you're thrilled she finally did.

“Right this moment, actually,” she chuckles, a playful glint in her eyes as she runs her fingers through her tousled brown curls.

You chuckle at her predictable spontaneity. It’s classic her, always deciding things at the eleventh hour. But you don’t mind, setting down your glass of water on the table. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s hit the road.”

Jessi sets her glass down, and together you stride out of the house toward the purple truck. You climb in, and Jessi takes the wheel, navigating you both into town. Along the way, she fills you in, explaining how she’s arranged an appointment with the local seamstress, boasting about her expertise. You nod, smiling at her enthusiasm, eager to witness your sister transformed in a wedding gown. Knowing Jessi’s usual aversion to dresses, you're curious to discover the style she’ll embrace for this momentous occasion.

After the familiar two-hour drive, Jessi expertly maneuvers the truck into a spot in front of the boutique. The quaint storefront beckons with its modest size, yet inside, a vibrant display of mannequins showcases an array of dresses. Among them, you spot wedding gowns, bridesmaid dresses, and elegant gala attire, each one whispering tales of dreams and celebrations.

As you step into the store, a delightful aroma envelops you, filling the air with its sweet fragrance. The atmosphere exudes warmth and comfort, instantly making you feel at home. A friendly lady approaches, her smile radiant as she offers her assistance.

“I have an appointment to try on wedding dresses,” announcing her appointment with a hint of excitement, your sister catches the store lady’s attention. With a nod of understanding, the lady graciously guides you both deeper into the boutique’s heart, where plush couches await, adorned in a regal hue of deep royal red, accented with elegant gold details. The ambiance is further elevated by the cream-white walls, instilling a sense of tranquility and serenity throughout the space.

“Please take a seat, and have some champagne,” the lady invites with a gentle gesture towards the inviting couches and the sparkling champagne flutes that beckon. 

“I’m Hyorin and I’ll help you find the perfect dress for your wedding.” Her warm smile assures you of a journey filled with personalized attention and expert guidance in your quest for the gown of your dreams.

You both sink into the embrace of the lush couch, the rich fabric cradling you like a cloud of opulence. With glasses of champagne in hand, poured with Hyorin’s effortless grace, you take a drink of the champagne, its effervescence mirroring the excitement in the air.

“What kind of dress are you looking for?” Hyorin’s gaze beams with anticipation as she directs her question to your sister, her eyes aglow with genuine interest. Their golden hue, reminiscent of warm honey, adds a radiant charm to her already captivating presence. Her brown locks cascade gracefully over her shoulders, framing her face like a portrait, while her chic curtain bangs lend a touch of modern allure to her appearance.

“I would like something simple and elegant, but not too tight or princessy,” your sister’s voice carries a tone of understated sophistication as she articulates her desires for the perfect gown. Her words resonate with a refined taste, seeking simplicity intertwined with an effortless elegance. You find yourself nodding in agreement, not at all surprised by her choice, and a spontaneous chuckle escapes you, nearly causing you to choke on your champagne.

Jessi turns to you, her lips curved into a playful smile, teasingly prompting, “What’s got you chuckling over there?”

“I’m just not surprised,” you muse with a grin, raising the champagne glass to your lips for another sip.

Hyorin smiles warmly. “I’ll be right back with a few suggestions for you to try on. You can get ready in the dressing room,” she says, her voice filled with excitement for the dress-finding journey ahead.

As Hyorin strides towards the racks adorned with elegant wedding dresses, Jessi rises gracefully, disappearing into one of the changing rooms. Left alone, you sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch, anticipation tingling in the air like champagne bubbles.

Hyorin returns, a vision of grace carrying three dresses like treasures from a bridal chest. Each gown, pristine white with delicate lace accents, exudes an aura of simplicity, elegance, and sheer beauty.

“I’ve curated a selection for you to consider,” Hyorin announces, presenting the trio of dresses to your sister as though unveiling treasures from a sacred bridal trove.

“Thank you,” Jessi responds graciously, snatching the dresses and whisking them into her dressing chamber, eager to unveil their potential allure.

With a flourish, she parts the curtain, revealing the first gown: a sweeping masterpiece. Its neckline plunges daringly, yet tastefully, inviting a glimpse of allure. Sleeveless, it caresses her curves with a perfect fit, offering both elegance and freedom of movement.

Your sister beams at you, her eyes alight with anticipation, as she gracefully lifts the skirt, revealing its fluid movement. “Well?” she prompts, her excitement palpable in the air.

“I think you look absolutely stunning,” you remark with a smile, admiring her from every angle. “But I’m curious to see how the other dresses compare,” you add, eager to explore the options further.

As she emerges from the dressing room, a new silhouette adorns her figure, this one an elegant a-line rather than the previous mermaid style. Yet, it’s adorned with subtle sparkles that catch the light, casting a magical glow around her. Observing her in the dress, you can’t help but wonder if the shimmer aligns with Jessi’s taste. She turns gracefully, the long sleeves adding a touch of sophistication to the ensemble.

Hyorin interjects, her voice tinged with anticipation, “How about this one? Does it speak to you?”

Jessi gazes at her reflection, her eyes lingering on the gown's shimmering embellishments. “The sparkles aren’t my thing,” she muses, “but I adore how the skirt flows—it’s not overly poufy, but just the right amount of volume for movement.”

Hyorin nods in understanding as Jessi retreats into the fitting room to slip into the third gown. The fabric is adorned with delicate lace, and as Jessi emerges, you notice the skirt’s voluminous size doesn’t quite match her liking.

“I’m not sold on the skirt of this one, but the top is lovely. Plus, I don’t mind flaunting a bit of cleavage,” she remarks, gracefully twirling in the dress.

Hyorin nods understandingly, collecting the three dresses from Jessi before gliding across the store to hunt for the next contender.

You rise from the plush couch, a glint of determination in your eyes. “I’ll scout out another option for you to try, sounds good?”

Jessi shoots you a thumbs-up from the dressing rooms, and you set off on your exploration of the boutique. Rows of stunning dresses greet you, each whispering its own tale of elegance and romance. Lost in the sea of bridal dreams, you ponder what you might choose for your own wedding someday, if fate allows. Amidst the glitter and sparkle, something catches your eye, beckoning you like a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.

You delicately pluck the dress from the rack, and instantly, you’re captivated. An ivory masterpiece unfolds before you, its allure undeniable. The neckline plunges daringly, yet a sheer nude fabric veils it with a touch of modesty. Long, lace-adorned sleeves promise both grace and breathability, while the bodice, adorned with intricate lace, exudes charm. With its lace-up back, the dress offers a timeless elegance, reminiscent of fairy tales and romance. The A-line silhouette, though not voluminous, carries a subtle flow, enhanced by the delicate lace fabric of the skirt. As you hold it, you can’t shake the feeling that this is the one—the dress that encapsulates your sister’s dreams and desires.

You cradle the dress in your arms, feeling its weight as if holding a treasure. With each step, anticipation swells within you, a silent prayer that this gown may be the key to your sister’s bridal bliss. Approaching Jessi, you extend the dress to her with a gentle urgency, a silent plea echoing in your eyes. “Try this on, Jess,” you urge, your voice a whisper filled with hope and excitement.

Hyorin glides over to you, her hands cradling two delicate dresses like precious secrets. With a graceful flourish, she presents them to Jessi, a silent invitation to discover the magic within. As Jessi disappears behind the dressing room curtain, anticipation hangs thick in the air, each passing moment pregnant with possibility. You exchange a glance with Hyorin, sharing in the silent anticipation of witnessing Jessi’s transformation.

As Jessi parts the curtain, her radiant smile bursts forth like sunshine breaking through clouds. In the shimmering gown you discovered, she spins with effortless grace, a vision of confidence and joy. 

“What do you think?” She beams, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, awaiting your verdict on her newfound elegance.

“Absolutely stunning! Jungkook won’t know what hit him,” you exclaim, your voice brimming with excitement and admiration. The dress envelops Jessi like a dream, affirming your belief that it’s the perfect choice for her special day.

“I feel incredible in it, but I doubt he’ll be able to keep his hands off me, he’ll probably just want to rip the dress off my body,” she chuckles, her laughter infectious as it fills the room. You can’t help but join in, the joy of the moment contagious, even Hyorin finds herself laughing along with you both.

“I don’t care what he does, that dress was made for you,” you affirm with conviction, your admiration for your sister evident in your voice. Damn, she looks stunning.

“This is the one,” Jessi declares with a radiant smile, her joy palpable as she moves gracefully in the dress, completely at ease.

As the morning light pours in, casting a golden glow over everything, it feels like the perfect day. The air is crisp, the sun’s warmth wraps around her like a comforting embrace, and the sweet melodies of birdsong serenade her every step. Each footfall is buoyant, as if she’s walking on air, filled with anticipation for the days ahead. Her heart beats with excitement, knowing that her big day is drawing near, and she can hardly contain her joy.

She revels in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence, cherishing every moment spent in his company. Witnessing her sister’s radiant happiness with Jimin fills her with a profound warmth. Never before has she seen Jimin so utterly content in a relationship, and it melts her heart to witness their love blossoming. Everywhere she looks, love seems to weave its enchanting tapestry, wrapping her in its gentle embrace. In this moment, surrounded by love and joy, she feels an overwhelming gratitude for having everything she’s ever wished for and more.

Jessi dances through the halls of Jungkook’s home, her joy infectious and her spirit light. As she twirls amidst the familiar surroundings, she can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe Jimin might summon the courage to take the next step and propose to her sister. The idea has been floating around her mind for some time now, especially knowing that Jimin has been holding onto an engagement ring, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.

Since you accompanied her to her dress fitting, Jessi couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable look of devotion in your eyes, a silent declaration of your readiness and unwavering commitment to Jimin. But now, she finds herself pondering a question that weighs heavily on her mind: how can she nudge Jimin towards proposing to you, or maybe even inspire you to take the leap and propose to him? Tradition and conventions hold little sway over her; all she desires is to witness the radiant joy of her beloved family as they step into a future filled with happiness and love.

With an infectious energy pulsating through her veins, she sways to an imaginary melody in the kitchen, her movements a symphony of anticipation. Suddenly, the distant hum of tires against gravel draws her attention, and she rushes to the window, her curiosity piqued. Through the glass, she spots an unfamiliar vehicle winding its way up the driveway, sparking her intrigue even further.

Eager to welcome the visitor, she strides outside, her smile radiant with warmth. But as her gaze falls upon the sleek, crimson sports car, a sudden chill washes over her, like a shadow eclipsing the sun. With a sharp intake of breath, she senses a storm of emotions brewing within, a tempest of memories stirring to life. That scarlet vehicle triggers a cascade of recollections, each fragment dancing on the periphery of her mind, teasing her with familiarity. Where had she seen it before? 

Despite the heavy weight pressing upon her, both in her heart and on her shoulders, she continues to move forward, each step an arduous journey. Every footfall feels like an uphill battle, as if gravity itself conspires against her progress. Yet, propelled by a mix of curiosity and apprehension, she persists, determined to confront whatever awaits her at the end of this daunting path.

With each inch the car draws nearer, her memories awaken like a dormant beast, stirring from its slumber. Images of the past flood her mind, each one a jagged piece of a puzzle she never wanted to solve. The car’s color triggers a cascade of recollections, transporting her back to the day of the accident, a day etched in pain and regret. As the truth dawns on her, fury simmers within her veins, boiling over like a tempest unleashed. Her fists ball up, knuckles whitening, while her teeth grind together in a symphony of anger and anguish, a bitter melody echoing the depths of her soul.

Vividly etched in her memory is the sight of that crimson car careening onto the wrong side of the road, a reckless intruder in her world of order. She recalls the split-second decision, the desperate swerve to avoid a collision, the sensation of losing control as her vehicle skidded off course, hurtling towards an unforgiving embrace with destiny—a collision with a tree that shattered her sense of safety and left her broken, physically and emotionally.

The car grinds to a halt, and her muscles tense with a mixture of apprehension and frustration, her arms folding protectively across her chest, a silent barrier against whatever or whoever emerges from that ominous vehicle. With each passing second, impatience brews within her, a fervent desire for the intrusive presence to vanish, to leave her to the serenity of her solitude. She fixates on the car’s door, her gaze an unyielding challenge, daring the unknown occupant to unveil themselves and confront the consequences of their intrusion.

The silence stretches taut as the stranger emerges, his movements deliberate, almost calculated, as if he’s orchestrating a grand entrance. With a polished precision, he plants his first foot onto the ground, clad in sleek, designer shoes that exude opulence—a stark contrast to her indifference, maybe even disdain, for such material extravagance. She suppresses a scoff, her lip curling with distaste, a silent protest against the superficiality that seems to accompany him.

As the man steps fully out of the car, his gaze sweeps the surroundings before settling on Jessi. Her expression remains stern, a subtle furrow forming between her brows, her lips pressed into a thin line betraying her impatience. One foot taps rhythmically against the earth, a silent declaration of her readiness for the stranger to break the silence enveloping them.

As the stranger remains silent, Jessi takes a moment to size him up. True to her initial assessment, is a city slicker; his brown hair meticulously styled with gel, giving him a sophisticated yet laid-back appearance. His heart-shaped face boasts a pointed nose and sharp eyes that seem to miss nothing. Clad in a loose silk shirt tucked into sleek black dress pants, he stands out amidst the rustic surroundings with an air of effortless elegance. Feeling the weight of his silence, Jessi clears her throat, a subtle signal to draw his attention.

“Some balls you have,” she begins, her voice laced with the simmering anger that clouds her thoughts and judgment.

His expression twists into confusion, but she can feel the heat rising within her, pushing her to raise her voice at him.

“Get out of here!” Her voice reverberates, echoing the anger pulsating through her, each word a thunderclap demanding his departure.

As footsteps and doors creak open behind her, you, Jungkook, and Jimin approach her, enveloping her in a protective circle. Your arms wrap around her, seeking answers to her distress, but Jessi’s vision blurs with rage, seeing nothing but crimson swirling before her eyes.

“He’s the one who caused my accident,” Jessi’s voice cuts through the tension, still charged with anger as she jabs her finger accusingly at the stranger.

You turn to gaze between your sister and the stranger, a surge of disbelief coursing through you. Suddenly, everything clicks into place, and you realize why your sister trembles in your embrace, her fury palpable.

Jungkook and Jimin move protectively in front of you, their gaze fixed firmly on the stranger standing before you. Jungkook takes the lead, his voice firm with an undercurrent of caution. “Who are you?”

The stranger clears his throat, his demeanor cautious yet oddly composed. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m—”

His words come out in a low, rumbling growl, cutting off Taehyung’s attempt to speak further. “Are you the one responsible for her accident?”

Taehyung’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression clouded with a hint of remorse, his hands retreating into his pockets.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I am,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with regret, his eyes flitting nervously among all of you, unable to meet any one gaze.

Your sister hisses, her fists clenching again, and you can feel the tension vibrating through her, a palpable desire to break free from your hold and maybe slap some sense into the man, but you cling to her tightly, refusing to let her go.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his gaze assessing Taehyung from head to toe. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung shifts uncomfortably, his laughter tinged with nervousness as he kicks at the dirt, his hand absently smoothing his sleek hair, disrupting its neatly styled appearance.

“I came to speak to my family,” he murmurs, his gaze sharpening once more, a flicker of resolve crossing his features as he braces himself for your response.

“Then you came to the wrong place, mate,” Jungkook utters through clenched teeth, his voice laced with simmering anger, though beneath the surface, you sense his effort to maintain composure.

You don’t know what Taehyung means by speaking to his family; none of you know him, and he’s certainly not part of your family.

“I’m your brother,” Taehyung says, his voice carrying an unexpected calmness that sends a ripple of disbelief through the air. Your eyes widen in shock. How can he remain so composed amidst such a damning accusation? You turn your head to glimpse your sister’s reaction; her eyes mirror your incredulity. Glancing at the others, you notice Jungkook and Jimin standing frozen, their expressions a mixture of confusion and surprise.

As the weight of Taehyung’s revelation settles in, you release your grip on your sister and stride towards Jimin, while Jessi gravitates towards Jungkook, seeking solace in his embrace. Together, the four of you stand, an image of disbelief and confusion. What is the meaning of this?

Taehyung’s gaze shifts between Jimin and Jungkook, his expression a blend of hurt and confusion, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated disappointment or maybe sadness. “You didn’t know?” he ventures, his voice tinged with an undertone of caution, as if unsure of how his revelation will be received.

You sense Jimin’s body tensing within your embrace, his muscles coiling like tightly wound springs as he grapples with the sudden influx of information. His fists clench, knuckles whitening with the intensity of his emotions, a silent storm raging within him.

“I don’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses back, his voice tight with tension, his fists clenched at his sides like coiled springs ready to release. “Our parents never told us anything of the sorts.”

Taehyung simply nods, his expression pained yet resolute. “Well, my mom recently told me about you and my father—our shared father.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook scoff, disbelief etched on their faces, their eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Dad would have told us,” Jimin’s voice is strained, his attempt at composure evident in the way he clenches his jaw. You reach out, soothingly tracing your hand up and down his arm, feeling the tension coiled within his muscles. With your other hand, you firmly grasp his hand, anchoring him in the moment.

“Are you sure? Seems like the guy got around a lot,” he remarks casually, shrugging his shoulders. Beside you, you notice both Jungkook and Jimin flinching at his words, their expressions betraying a mix of disbelief and discomfort.

“You,” Jungkook seethes, his voice edged with barely contained fury. From the corner of your eye, you see him attempting to break free from your sister’s grasp, but she holds onto him firmly, refusing to let him go.

“I can prove that I’m your sibling with a DNA test,” he states casually, his demeanor unsettlingly composed. You can’t fathom how he can maintain such calmness amidst this chaos. Doubt creeps into your mind, questioning his intentions. What does he seek from the guys? Money, maybe?

You can feel Jimin’s heartbeat against your chest, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his uncertainty. He clears his throat, his voice edged with skepticism, “Then come back with proof. Because we don’t believe you.”

Taehyung nods, his demeanor nonchalant, “I just need some DNA from you and I’ll be on my merry way.”

It feels like a scene ripped straight from a surreal drama as Taehyung produces a small plastic bag, and both Jimin and Jungkook pluck out a hair from their heads, handing it to Taehyung with a mix of reluctance and defiance. Their expressions betray a cocktail of emotions, but it’s clear they’re doing it more out of defiance than genuine cooperation. Taehyung calmly plucks a piece of hair from his own head.

“Thank you,” he says with a pleased smile, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he waves before disappearing into the sleek red car. With a smooth maneuver, he gets behind the wheel and drives off, leaving behind a cloud of uncertainty and a lingering sense of unease in the air.

You all hold your breath, a tense silence enveloping the group as his car disappears into the distance, leaving nothing but a swirling cloud of dust in its wake.

“What a douche,” Jungkook’s voice seethes with a mix of anger and exhaustion, his words heavy with disbelief and frustration. “I really hope he isn’t our brother.”

Jimin turns towards you, his expression a blend of confusion and desperation as he seeks reassurance in your eyes, silently pleading for answers you’re not sure you can provide at this moment. Nevertheless, you envelop him in a tight hug, hoping your embrace can convey the support and comfort he needs.

You offer a soothing rub to his back, your touch a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling uncertainty. “That was so weird. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this. What could he possibly want?”

Jimin’s warm breath against your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and you hold him tighter for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence. As he pulls away, uncertainty lingers in his voice. “Yeah. I don’t know if I like this.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, Jimin. Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.”

You find yourselves immersed in a search through old papers and documents together, scouring for any hint of a connection from the guys to Taehyung. The disbelief hangs heavy in the air, and you empathize with their skepticism. It’s like watching their world tilt on its axis, leaving them grappling with uncertainty and confusion.

Despite days spent sifting through mountains of old documents, the evidence of Jimin and Jungkook having a brother remains elusive. The mystery hangs heavy in the air, fueling speculation and unease. You engage in discussions, contemplating the possibility that Taehyung may be orchestrating some sort of scheme.

As anticipated, Taehyung fulfills his promise, returning a few days later, his sleek red car gliding into the driveway. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you and the others step outside to confront him once again.

Taehyung emerges from his car, exuding the same impeccable style as before, his attire as refined as his demeanor. A confident smile graces his lips as he approaches, clutching a piece of paper in his hand, his eyes glinting with a sense of purpose.

He strides purposefully toward Jimin, extending the paper with a determined yet enigmatic air. “Proof,” he states simply, his gaze locked onto Jimin’s, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

You position yourself behind your boyfriend, stretching on tiptoe to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, eager to discern the contents of the document. As your eyes sweep across the page, there it is— the undeniable confirmation, the positive result staring back at you, setting your heart racing with a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

You position yourself behind your boyfriend, stretching on tiptoe to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, eager to discern the contents of the document. As your eyes sweep across the page, there it is— the undeniable confirmation, the positive result staring back at you, setting your heart racing with a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

Frustration and disbelief surge through you. You can hardly fathom it. Without a word, Jimin passes the paper to his brother, his silence a testament to the tumult raging within him as he grapples with the sudden upheaval of his reality. In a bid to anchor him amidst the storm, you envelop him in a reassuring embrace, feeling the weight of his uncertainty and turmoil pressing against you.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks over the document, his features contorted in a mixture of skepticism and disdain. “You may share our blood,” he begins, his voice edged with a steely resolve, “but you’re no brother of mine.”

→ Requested series taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-in-the-moon, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @fancypeacepersona, @ktownshizzle, @pjmxxjm, @ajoonniice, @kookiewithluv, @mikrokookiex, @rapmonjoon94, @parkitrighthere,

→ 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 🥰

[pinkartwitch]

“In the midst of the kitchen stood a tall woman Frigga vaguely recognized with sepia skin and black hair shorter than most men’s. She wore an old, stained apron over simple worker’s clothes and her trousers were tucked into steel-toed boots with the stretched-out raggedy laces tied around each ankle. Apparently she’d been gathering up ingredients and baking tools from different cabinets when the heiress surprised her. She stood between the industrial stovetop and a substantial island, and she’d brought out one of two stools from its place at the counter’s opposite side. Frigga wanted to shrink back but she’d already been spotted. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know anyone was here!” she apologized, her hand rising to fiddle with the thin golden chain necklace she wore. “No no! Come on in, Miss. You alrigh’?” The woman looked at Frigga, a soft concern in her eyes, and put her things on the island.” Blood and Thorns - Chapter 1

If you were a witch, what kind of magic would you specialize in?

This is a picture I’ve tried to draw before but never posted because I didn’t like how it turned out. I’m still not 100% with it, but I like this one much better so it’s going to get called done! I’m rapidly closing in on my goal of having 1 painting for every chapter of my book, and I’ll be making a big deal of it when I do so stay tuned for that 💖 It’s a long-term project very dear to my heart, and the more lesbians and witches I get to draw the better! Drawing scenes in a dark academia setting is so much fun, and I love adding bits of ambient magic wherever I can.

Little aside, I’ve been kind of all over the place for the last few weeks so I’m hoping to get back to my regular posting schedule with today. I had a lot of fun at the art gallery (see prev. post), and I’ve also had a lot going on personally so thank you everyone for your support oxoxo

If you like this, please reblog (it really helps artists out!!), leave a like or comment, and consider following me for more (I update at least once a week) 💖

Available for commissions! For more information, please check out  my post here: https://www.tumblr.com/pinkartwitch/739257460225916928/novas-art-commissions

If you’d like to read Blood and Thorns for free, my original story about magic, personal agency, and queer love that overcomes oppression, you can here: https://pinkchaosstories.tumblr.com/bloodandthorns

[tojisun]

Hi I wanted to ask for some advice as to what I should do with my blog because I'm quite new to tumblr and idk who else to ask but the writers I already follow😭

I no longer want my main blog to have my cod fics on them so l created a side blog specifically for cod content. What do I do with the few fics I've already posted on the main blog? Should I delete them and then copy and repost them to my new blog? Or should I leave them with an edit saying l've moved and just reblog them so the original post is still visible on the new blog?

The thing is that these few fics l've posted already have around only 100 notes each and I have a few followers so I don't want to be annoying to anyone by moving.

I'm so sorry if this makes no sense. You obviously don't have to answer this if you don't want, I just wanted to ask someone who seems to know how tumblr works and knows what's the norm lol. Love your stuff btw💖

hello!!

tbh baby whichever is easier for u!

u can either reblog the post in ur new blog, n delete the root post (i used to do that for this blog)? or u can just entirely repost it—please, dont worry about being annoying bc u wont be!! ur creating ur space and its so okay to fix it up however u must.

if u do repost, u can clarify that in the new post’s authors note!

leaving a note in ur prev blog that u have moved is also great! i do that between my blogs, except i dont want people from hobimoon to know tojisun bc that was such an old blog that uhhh i dont want them here lol 🙂‍↕️

tbh idek if these are helpful bc i basically just said “yea do everything!!” and im so sorry </3 thank you so much for coming to me for help and i really hope i was able to at least offer some :(

thank you so much baby and omg pls dont apologize!!! take care and happy blogging!!

[originsofevil]

Intro <3 !

Michelangelo any pronouns this post is just a long ramble tbh

oversharing under the cut

i do post occasional nfsw/suggestive content, never anything too crazy but if youre a minor id prefer if you didnt interact with those posts, i have no way of enforcing this as i dont check my notifs unless theres tags but i am a full adult, i do pay rent and bills and taxes. on that topic i probably wont follow you if youre under like. 16/17ish. no hard feelings i just am an adult and im not around kids very much as the 2nd youngest of 4 so. if youre under 16 dont do drugs stay in school all that good stuff. i love you, go to bed on time. i've been on this website since i was 11 and it shows. dont be me.

I talk in the tags a LOT feel free to <- prev or rb addressing my tags but i typically assume no one will read them all the way through. i'm writing whole essays. im oversharing. call op a college admissions office bc I'm telling my whole life story. if my tags make you uncomfortable on your post please let me know and i will apologize/delete them if you wish. i dont have a concept of tmi and tend to misread/miss social cues/the vibes so i apologize if i misstep

please let me know if i reblog any stolen artwork/ai generated anything/ etc

‼️‼️i am not spoiler free for anything (even if i myself havent seen the content) i dont have any sort of tagging system ‼️

list of my active fandoms! old hyperfixations tend to creep up on me so this is not complete

- bungo stray dogs (bsd beast fans pls follow me i adore beast)

- legend of zelda (all games + lu/links meet aus)(legend fans pspspsp)

- the witcher (mainly the show but i got attached to a character thats not even actually in any of the games. aiden i love you.)

- cars (2006, 2011, 2017)(yes entirely unironically)

- Voltron legendary defender. (again. yes. unironically.)

- star wars (mainly the main series and animation since i havent read thr or played the games)

- jujutsu kaisen (2nd years stan)

- the magnus archives (gerry delano fans i love you)

- percy jackson (mainly the books and musical, i dont care for the show much but i adore the actors)

- gravity falls ! (i actually just got into this like, last month. binged the whole series in like a week at age 21.)

- my hero academia (my hs best friend made me watch s1 and i got attached to aizawa hawks and the todorokis sorry)(im convinced the todorokis were based on my family. im literally natsuo. dont ask abt dabi unless u think you're prepared)

- lord of the rings, long awaited addition to this list given i was raised on them (undiagnosed adhd child + 4 our long movies = not a good combination)

Non Fandom Interests

- I write ! once i start uploading ill link my ao3 here but its rough out here (microsoft word)

- I draw ! i mightve posted my art a few times but as i mentioned i dont have any tagging system so maybe I'll make one for art or link another social at some point

- this mostly falls under loz but i love video games :3 i MOSTLY play loz but animal crossing, minecraft, and random silly da games ive collected over the years are my pride and joy. i want to play the witcher games but i have assassins creed black flag and im really bad at it. (i only have nintendo consoles (ds, 3ds, switch) rn but i want a decent pc at some point. the sims calls to me.

- Politics! my politics are very important to me as a leftist so if you're right wing we will not get along. if i find out that youre racist/homophobic/transphobic/a zionist (i am jewish)/sexist/etc i will probably block you. id say no hard feelings but i dint mean that.

I will probably update this as needed/whenever i remember to <3 ty if u read this and i love you have a great day

[variouscolors]

-------- [muses] • [lore] • [HCs] • [art] • [tag list masterpost] --------- ------------------------ [crossovers] • [AUs] ------------------------

[wheel of digimuses for random picks] [permanent starter call]

[interest checker form] ← i'm testing this method, so please fill it if possibly.

Blog Status: working on re-building this blog, sorry it might be a little messy!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♂️ (if you urgently need me check @beginningobserver or @digitalgate02 -- both here or on bluesky.) + currently going down the mystery fanfiction crafting pipeline so i'm more likely to be on low activity here.

prev. urls: digitaladventurers / googuruboi / lovelychosen / energeticwaves / shainingusutaa / kindnessdetective / agentcinnamonroll / kisekidaisuke Archived: variouscolors-old

⚠ This blog is not spoiler-free, so any spoilers for the film THE BEGNNING (2023) are tagged as: 02tb spoilers If you would like to not see spoilers, or don't like spoilers in general, I recommend adding this tag to your filters (be it tumblr's or Tumblr Savior's filter systems)

⚠ Fair warning: due to some muses having heavy backstories with a few dark themes, this blog contains depression, character death, child abuse and mild body & psychological horror. This stuff is tagged properly anyway.

Welcome!!

The text below is an updated version of the rules (est. Aug/02/2024).

Rules:

[Last update: Feb/02/2025]

Thank you for passing by and please read all of this page, because some etiquette & info are present here:

I'm Ni/digitalgate02 (She/They) and I am 25+ so I ask you If you are underage please leave because I will not interact with you & if you do not I will softblock and maybe block you if you insist.

→ Personal blogs are not allowed to reblog ANYTHING in this account that are threads, ooc posts or posts made for this account exclusively. You can follow and send asks, but if you reblog anything that's not reblogs of art on purpose you will be blocked.

→ Usual common etiquette – No hatred towards people’s religions, sexual/romantic orientation, gender (or lack of), PoC, ethnicities, etc. I won’t hesitate to block if needed.

→ NO BASHING/DUNKING ON ANY SERIES/MOVIES/MANGA/GAMES, OR CHARACTERS OR SHIPS. OR "DUB VS SUB" DISCOURSE -- Also I won’t tolerate hateful comments or behavior towards myself or any RPer fellow as well.

※ I have so little to zero knowledge of the American dub of any digi-series. I will only work with the Japanese version or Brazilian dub.

※ I go with JP terminology & names, but I’m totes fine with dub names. If you start a thread with them, I’ll tag along with it. But if I’m the one starting it I’ll go with what I’m used to.

※ I go by canon divergent for certain material like WS games and ▽, as example. By the way, I'd like to go by what was said by my friend Shiha when it comes to canon and non-canon stuff.

→ I don’t ship human/digimon, adult/minor, incest and I might block if you ship it. I multiship things though! Each verse with multiple muses can have different relationships (platonic, romantic, family, rivals, enemies, etc??) -- but i don't write sm/ut.

→ I'm OC, AU, Canon Divergent and Crossover friendly, but I'd like to know your muses first. [check the crossover list for stuff I have minimal knowledge about btw!]

→ Pre-stabilished relationships are only for canon relationships. Your OCs will have to be introduced to my muses first, or plotted beforehand. Non-canon ships also must be plotted beforehand, sorry. I'm really picky about that. If you don't ship a canon ship, let me know beforehand so I can avoid writing pre-stabilished romantic relationships with you.

→ I don't expect anyone with canon characters to follow the storylines/plotlines I post (or reblog) in this blog. You're free to disagree with them as you wish; however If you like them and want to join them, feel free to ask me first! And yes, I can change parts of these verses/plotlines to accommodate you and your headcanons, just let me know first!

→ Our portrayals of the same muse may differ, and that's okay. Don't expect me to write the same muse like you and vice-versa (I feel uncomfortable when people do that).

※ If you feel unsure about your own portrayals, please remember that even the canon material has different portrayals of a character because it was written by multiple people. I may block if someone comes to "teach" me or anyone else how to write my or their muses. I have had bad experiences with this in the past, and now I vouch for everyone's right to write their muses/AUs/ships the way they want, even if I disagree with them.

※ You can adopt my headcanons, but please let me know first. Or at least mention me (you don't need to tag, but if you would like to, go ahead) if you adopt or make a headcanons besed on them. I'm asking this because during 2016-to-2018 someone stole one of my (?) theories for ▽ and tried to spread it as "spoiler leaks" and it made me almost stop to share my own theories about ongoing stuff.

→ Feel free to drop threads, but let me know please. If I want to drop a thread I'll let you know. No hard feelings though! We can always make a brand new one.

※ Replies/threads length may vary, so no need to write long replies if I write long ones, or short replies if I wrote short ones. I won't judge you by it, or for fancy formats/icons/etc. Just keep in mind I'm not English native so sometimes English accents might be a little harder for me 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♀️

→ I don’t like passive-aggressiveness, or straight aggressiveness. If you have something to correct in my posts, please do it politely and kindly. Don't yell at me, I don't function well with yelling. It will only make things worse, believe me.

※ Communication is the key -- I'm awkward when reminding people about threads because I don't want them to think I'm rushing them. And I'll admit I'm paranoid and had issues with people ghosting me in the past so it makes me a bit nervous with couples or multimuses that are not full digimon-only OR multi muses from friends. If you feel uncomfortable with anything I said or had done, please TELL ME. I'd like to apologize and solve things peacefully. If we don't click, then at least we can part ways with no hard feelings.

※ "Hey Ni, are you mad/ignoring me because you didn't reply/comment in the tags anymore..." -- No, I'm not. Don't worry, the reason is simple: I'm afraid of hitting the limit of saved tags in the autosave function and getting my tags reset. So I'd like to make comments privately (if you don't mind!) or via OOC posts with said tags copied into the post. I can still make a few comments in the tags thanks to force of habit, but i'm trying to not hit the limit again in case i add more muses and verses to the blog.

※I also don't like drama or people vagueposting about me. It drives my paranoia crazy. Again, this is thanks to issues I've had in the past. If I catch a post that sounds like it's about me, i'll silently unfollow or block.

→ Although I'm not mutuals-only, I'd appreciate it if you could soft-block me if you plan to unfollow. So I'll understand if you don't want to write or interact with me anymore. However, you are always free to talk to me again (unless you tell me *not* to, in which case I'll respect your wishes).

→ I'm always open to plot things -- relationships, threads, headcanons, etc. So feel free to DM me if you get an idea in mind so we can discuss.

→ No godmodding and mindreader, etc. If you want to attack my muses or do some of their actions, please let me know first. Hugging or following you on a walk -- as examples -- are OK, but kissing and other sort of actions are NOT.

→ Btw i'm uncomfortable when people use real-life faceclaims, LARP or self-insert themselves. Sorry （；´д｀）ゞ I can give it a pass to fictional Live-Action characters though, but no real people such as celebrities, singers, etc.

→ Please don’t send me requests to draw stuff. Some replies might have art! But if you just drop me something like “can you draw [insert here some prompt/idea]” i will immediately reply with my comm. price chart :) And no, I won’t draw fetish art.

※ If you want to use my art for icons, please let me know beforehand. Some of my art and icons have a backstory or are tied to a project of mine. And please, do not use my OCs as faceclaim or to roleplay. And please please, DO NOT REQUEST ARTISTS TO DRAW NSFW STUFF WITH MY OCS ESPECIALLY WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

→ Please send at least one meme if you are reblogging from me...! Reblog from the source/OP or try reblogging from my meme-reblogging blog: @gogglememes

→ Do not edit my art or repost/reupload it. If you wanna use it as an icon/sidebar, ask first. And no, you cannot use my art on A/I & N/F/T for ANYTHING. If you do that, I will block you immediately. If you want to use my doodles as icons, ask first. BTW i do have an icon warehouse blog (it used to be my old RP acc, but now it's for icons + archival of past stuff written with old fellows) → @goggle-digicons

※ I also do not authorize using my writing for A/I or N/F/T as well. I'm an artist and a writer, i like to write and draw. I don't want anyone using my stuff to those purposes.

→ I'll NOT write with anyone using A/I to write/draw stuff. Sorry, I'll softblock whoever does it. It makes me feel upset, especially because this steals human-made stories and arts in order to get something more "fancy" and "quickly" without going through the entire process of learning via trial and error.

However i don't mind grammar checkers, because a grammar checker app purpose is to help you write better, not to write and generate a whole text from zero. I do use grammar checkers when I'm struggling to write down a sentence and I feel unsure if I'm doing it correctly or not. Heck, even using MTL and doing research + reverse research to check if I'm using the right term, the right idiom is 10x more organic than telling a machine to write down something for me.

( ※ this applies to art too -- using 3D models & photos assets to draw a pose or a detail... 10x more organic than writing keywords and letting the PC do all of it for myself.)

Remember: I'm an artist before a roleplayer. My art means EVERYTHING to me so do not dare using those "cheap shortcuts" with me.

○ If you're OK with those terms, then tell me your favorite Armor Evo from 02 material (Anime/Movie/Drama CD) -- you can use either name version (i can always research for the mon's OG name on wikimon) then there ya go.✌ ○

○ Icons credits: -- Tumblr: @7digitalheroes | @goggles-and-noodles | @digimon-icons | @iconwarehouse | @ofcanalave | @qtpiecaps | @guiltfreeicons | @blujaerps | @facexclaimxcafe-blog | @fractalflare | universalzones -- Live Journal:[1][2][3][4][5][6]

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About Ni:

(i use many characters as FC but mostly raw Daisuke/Rui/Whisper icons) Hi I'm Ni (She/They; 25↑), I love Digimon in general, but the series I work with more is the OG Adventure series. I'm Ace/Panromantic, please use she/her or they/them pronouns. I'm a scaredy-cat kind of person who gets nervous and anxious at first, but once we start bonding I'll drop that and be more of myself. Also, I'm not good with people/communication, so sometimes I have meltdowns and have to step back for a while. Usually I'm either cooling off on a non-roleplaying blog or just hanging out on Discord. So please be patient with me during these times. [ ⚠ my Discord accs are only reserved for friends because i'm utterly afraid of adding strangers, so yeah, only ask me for those if we are friends for a while already. ]

I love to learn new things, so please correct me if needed but without yelling at me because I kind of hate being yelled at, because I had bad personal life experiences in the past. My muses, despite some being quite closer to my personality are NOT me so please be aware of the differences between muse and writer.

I get super duper fired up when talking about the things I love the most. However I can be quite harsh and critical about said stuff as well. I tend to get a lot of brainstorms so if I’m messaging you that much please tell me and I will slow down my pace. 

I also get excited when writing a thread, so I tend to reply hella quickly while I still have in mind what to say. Don’t rush me, but give me small reminders if I forget to reply since there’s a chance I actually forgot to or thought it was your turn when in fact I hadn’t replied in the first place.

I also draw. Like, a lot. Quite compulsive. Some of my non-canon-material icons are my own art. And I feel a bit uncomfortable by using other people’s fanart WITHOUT their permission. So yeah, I do my own doodled icons… When I get energy for those.

[moa-broke-me]

#reblog#pjo tv crit#im mostly replying to tags here nobody mind me

#re: prev tags - there's a bunch of stuff from TSATS that's also blatantly from tumblr posts lmao#the subway scene is literally almost word for word a tumblr post iirc#in the comments of that one college humor comic i think

#i distinctly remember a thread on it and reading TSATS and going ''thats word-for-word a tumblr post. i know it. i've read that post.''#which makes a lot of sense when you consider how just. absolutely out of place that scene feels with the rest of the book#like the book is a mess but that scene in particular is just. oh they literally just ripped it straight from tumblr. thats why its weird.

#photokinesis Will has obviously been popular fanon since 2015 and same with plague Will#even some TOA stuff is blatantly old fanon or tumblr posts. *especially* solangelo stuff#im surprised they didnt go full 2015 fanon and give him a lasso/whip made of light instead of the weird laser beam thing

#and Piper's cameo in TSATS is just not even subtly a checklist of Rick directly responding to criticism he's gotten about her character#plus that whole scene of Nico basically being outed a second time/''coming out'' to CHB that has the random list of other queer campers#but it's LITERALLY a list. just throwing names out there. like cool. zero effort. and im pretty sure also specifically common fanon ones

#anyways everybody place your bets when is somebody gonna throw an apple to their significant other/crush#fun fact - yknow the skeleton pegasus merch from the Tower of Nero book tour? yeah thats 100% ripped from fanon#thats been a fanon thing for ages before ToN. in fact i have a nearly identical design on redbubble that was up for years prior#and i know for a fact that shirt design was one of the first results for ''chb shirt'' on redbubble for ages#im not saying they ripped it off from me cause i know im not the first person to think of that but it is suspicious

#the weirdest part of it all to me is Rick is clearly like 5-10 years behind on fanon. so every time a fanon/fandom ref is included#it just feels dated and awkward. like yeah nobody has referenced that in ages. but now it's canon but fanon isn't supposed to be canon#it's often super incongruent. such as Will being retconned into TTC for TSATS because?????? fanon. fanon is why.#like he physically cannot be at chb in TTC without ruining an entire chain of stuff. there is no logical way he can exist there.#which is why he doesn't in canon! he's introduced in TLO! he can exist no earlier than BoTL!

#fanon doesnt have to follow canon logic. but that just makes it REALLY bad when it's blatantly canonized with no regard for consistency#which is why i think TSATS feels so much like a 2015 fanfic. cause it's just blatantly all 2015 fanon that isnt congruent with canon at all#anyways sorry for the tag rant thank you for coming to my tedtalk

These were too good to stay in the tags

Fun fact, I recognize most semi major plot point changes in the Percy Jackson series from Tumblr posts 

The Calling Kronos grandpa thing was a Tumblr post way way way way before the show is even talked about releasing

I don’t know why but it feels weird knowing that everyone is praising Rick for something he didn’t do

[shu-glue]

Chapter 5: Run That By Me Again

Summary: You meet up with Kita and he asks you to tutor Suna. You and your friends arrive at the gym to take some shots for the volleyball team's posters when you get suspicious of Suna.

A/N: holy moly, this is like. the longest chapter i've written so far (a whopping 5.5+ words O.O) (i know its not that long compared to others but shush). chapter 6 is almost finished and will be posted next week; however, i'll have to move the schedule to every Saturday in my timezone (Fridays PST) since i'm going back to school and i have responsibilities again 🥹. anyway, as usual, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! hope you like the chapter and hope you have a nice day!

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taglist!

@milkteeboba @fairywriter-oracle @s-adidass @admiringlove @mmmaaannnsssiii @pavo-ocxllus @jojowantstocry @alienvarmint (taglist is still open!)

(Knock, knock.

“Excuse us, anybody hooome~?”

Your small hand tightened its grip on your older brother’s, your wide eyes flitting up to him nervously. Your palms were sweaty, and your face was flushed. Your baby cheeks were puffed out as you gulped down the large lump in your throat but to no avail. “Shinichi… I wanna go home now…” You say to him, pulling at his sleeve to get him to leave the doorstep of your neighbors’ house, to get him to go back to your home—if you can call that new, empty house a home.

Your older brother, Shinichi, looks down at you, blue-green eyes wide with surprise. He said your name softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, his free hand holding onto the basket of separately packaged biscuits. “We can’t go back home already, we just got here. Besides, it’s important to make friends with the neighbors, remember?” He had gently said to you, smiling.

You frowned deeply, shaking your head vehemently as you buried your face in his shirt. “No! I wanna go home… my stomach is feelin’ funny…” You cried. You didn’t want to meet new people. You didn’t want to see them stare at you again, behind their bright cameras and whispers behind their hands, like how it was in your hometown. The thought filled you up with a funny feeling in your stomach that made you want to puke, and made your hands and fingers shake.

Shinichi’s eyebrows raised before they furrowed, frowning now as well as he pushed the bangs away from your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced ya. We can come back here another day—” He had said to reassure you, finally understanding your state, when the door had opened and the two of you whipped your heads to look at it.

You hid behind your older brother, immediately cautious, as the both of you stared up at the old woman who greeted you at the door. Her hair was already a silvery gray and a warm smile was plastered on her face, inviting and comforting.

“Oh? Ya must be the kids of the family that jus’ moved in.” She said, her smile getting brighter as she looked down at you and Shinichi.

He smiled politely, bowing at her and nudging your back so you would do the same. “That’s right! I’m Shinichi and this is my little sibling.” He had said, introducing the two of you. He calls your attention. “Say hi to the nice lady.”

Meekly, you had averted your cautious gaze from the woman, muttering a small ‘hi’ that made the old woman beam at you, regardless. “Oh, such polite children! I’m Kita Yumie, nice ta meetcha!” She had said. Shinichi beams. You don’t reply.

“Nice ta meetcha too, ma’am, we’re actually here ta give ya some biscuits we made! Our mama wanted us ta make friends with the neighbors.” Shinichi says, handing a plastic of cookies to Yumie, which she gingerly accepts. “But, my sibling is actually having a stomachache so we have ta go back home.”

You hid yourself even more behind Shinichi, about two seconds away from running back home and locking yourself away from the world. Yumie raised her eyebrows. “Oh! If that’s the case, please, have some tea leaves we have. They help immensely with stomach pains, I always have my grandchildren drink it when they complain about their tummy feelin’ funny.” She had said and she looked behind her. “Ah, Shizuka’s taking care of Shousuke then—Shin-chan! Can ya get the mint tea from the top cabinet?”

You peeked around your brother when she said that, the littlest bit of curiosity having had taken hold of you. “Oh, Shinsuke is a really sweet boy. He’s about yer age, actually!” Yumie said to you, smiling brightly. "He's a bit shy but he means well. I would appreciate it if ya befriend the boy as well."

Shinichi grinned down at you, almost excited. You're confused. "Did ya hear that? Ya might get a new friend!" He had said to you. You highly doubted it. You didn't want a new friend. You wanted to be left in peace. You wanted to be alone. You wanted to disappear from everyone else's peering eyes forever—

"Grandma." A new voice had cut in and you turn your head to look behind Yumie, and your eyes had widened seeing his silver hair, fading to black at the tips, and his sharp brown eyes. "Here's the tea."

The two of you made eye contact, and he had blinked at you curiously, while you blinked back.

"Ah, thank you, Shin-chan. These are our new neighbors!" Yumie had said to him, before turning to you and Shinichi. "This is my grandson, Kita Shinsuke."

You looked at him, at Kita, and the both of you made eye contact.

Your eyes wide, as he nodded at you and your brother. "It's nice ta meetcha."

Your stomach started to feel funny again. But that time, it was different.)

When you were younger, you never really thought that you'd be friends with Kita Shinsuke, much less best friends. The quiet, mild-mannered boy from two houses down the street, living with his siblings and his grandmother while his parents worked away in the rice fields. He was a year older than you were, and on the weekends, you and your older brother would visit his house.

You can’t remember exactly when you two became friends. At some point, you two just clicked.

You can’t remember exactly when you realized you had feelings for him either. No, that’s not entirely true. You just know that at some point, Kita became someone you wanted to give the world to. At some point, your heart began to beat quicker whenever you saw him. Your palms would get clammy with sweat when he’s near you. At some point, your feelings went past the line of platonic.

And it was the scariest realization of all.

“Kita?” You call out as you step through the doors, walking onto the school rooftop. It was quite easy to slip away from Nana and Ryuji, who were so immersed in finding out the universal deadline for returning one’s manga. No one comes up to the rooftop anyway, so you were pretty much safe on your way up.

The wind is much stronger up here, whipping through your hair. No one comes up here, so it’s only you and Kita.

He’s sitting by the net railing of the rooftop, silver hair waving in the strong wind. Ankles crossed and arms wrapped around his knees, he looks serene. It feels like your heart just stopped and got resuscitated at the same time. Smiling, you walk—if not skip—over to him, your grin barely hidden on your face. “Kita!”

Kita blinked and looked up to see you approach, his expression melting away to form a gentle smile on his face. He says your name gently—your first name, like he always had—, greeting you with a ‘good morning’ and you feel like your heart could burst as you sit down beside him, enjoying the morning air next to him.

Kita Shinsuke. Your best friend, your childhood friend. Your everything.

“Did ya finish yer morning practice early?” You ask him, getting comfortable on the ground. Kita’s usually so busy with the volleyball club, he rarely has time to see you in the mornings.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “everyone was tired after a few drills so I let them rest before their first period classes start. I also wanted to talk to ya before class.”

You grin. “Ya say they usually slack off during practice. Did ya decide to be merciful this time?” You joke. Kita tilts his head.

“Am I that strict?”

“Nah, yer good. The best captain even.”

For as long as you can remember, Kita loved volleyball. It started when the both of you saw a couple of kids passing a volleyball back and forth between each other. It was obvious that Kita wanted to try playing, but he was never verbal about his interests at that time. He never talked about what he wanted, it’s like he just adapted to what happened around him and acclimated. You scrapped up whatever money you had in your allowance with Shinichi’s help, and bought Kita a volleyball for his 7th birthday.

You were afraid that he wouldn’t like it, that you overestimated yourself and thought you knew him better than you actually did, but you will never forget the way he smiled and hugged you in thanks that day. Ever since then, he is always so thorough when he practices, and he gives his all every time. The fact that he became captain made you so proud of him.

“When's the preliminaries for Interhigh? I need ta know when to hog the TV at home to watch ya play.” You say, wringing your fingers together.

“Some time after midterms, I believe.” Kita replies. “But ya don’t have to watch if yer busy.”

“Don’t say that! I want to!” You suddenly exclaim, closing your fists as you whip your head to him. “What kinda person would I be if I didn’t support ya?”

Kita’s expression softens as he looks at you, smiling gently. “Thank you.” He says with a gentle utterance of your name.

Kita Shinsuke. Your best friend, your childhood friend. Your everything.

Everything you want in your future but you’re not even sure if he feels the same way.

“Oh wait, which reminds me,” Kita’s words make you perk up, “can I ask ya fer another favor? I’m sorry, I know I already asked ya ta make posters for the team but—"

“If it’s a request from you, I don’t mind, Kita.” You say, scooting closer to show him you’re paying attention. “What is it?”

“Thank you, it’s just… something that needs to be done before midterms.”

Your heart begins to beat dangerously fast. Wait, oh no, what if he’s planning on confessing to someone and he wants you to be the messenger? What if he wants to stop being friends because of that? Please don’t let it be that, please don’t let it be that—!

“Ya remember Suna Rintarou, right?”

Oh thank God.

Wait, what.

“Suna Rintarou?” You repeat in confusion, tilting your head as you raise an eyebrow. “Ya mean that boy from the cafeteria yesterday? Your teammate?” And the guy who just recorded the Miya twins and Nana bickering without doing anything to stop the scene and the guy who crashed into you yesterday and didn’t bother apologizing. (But Kita didn’t need to know that.)

“That’s the one.”

“What’s his deal then?” Your face sours at the mere thought of the sleepy-eyed asshole as you place your chin on your palm.

“Well, his grades are dropping. And we had been informed yesterday that if he doesn’t pass his midterms, it is highly likely that he’d be benched for Interhigh preliminaries.”

“Oh.” You blurt out, lifting your head. “That’s not good.”

Kita frowns, nodding his head as he rubs his temple. “Yes. I was wonderin’ if you can talk to him, and help him out a bit.”

You blink. “Help him out?” You repeat and Kita just gives you a look. Instantly, you regret being on the same wavelength as him sometimes. “I am NOT tutoring him.”

“Is it because ya had to scold him yesterday at lunch—?”

“It’s because he’s an annoying lil—!” You cut yourself off, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, it won’t work, Kita, we won’t get along. I barely even know the guy, I don’t have time for him, and I don’t have time for his problems!”

Kita sighs. “He’s one of our key players in the team, and a talented spiker. I don’t want to have a player like him benched for half of the tournament.”

You look down at your feet, pouting. “Yer probably better than him, Kita. No, yer definitely a better player!”

“I’m flattered yer confident in my abilities, but, Suna’s still a core starting player.” Kita says. “Please, if not fer him, can ya do it fer me?”

He’s doing it again. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it. He HAS to know that he’s doing it! There is no way he’s just subconsciously and coincidentally giving you puppy dog eyes with those brown eyes of his.

And the saddest thing is that it’s actually working on you.

“Ghk. Well…” You trail off, trying to avert your gaze from the way Kita is looking at you. “Well… uh…”

Kita’s small frown grows deeper and his eyebrows furrow even more, from looking like a quiet, pouting child, to a sad looking labrador puppy sitting in the rain. Oh, this is so not fair. This is really not fair!

“F— Fine…” You finally say, slumping as you sigh loudly. “I’ll help him study. But only if he asks! I ain’t offering!”

It seems like that was enough for him as he smiles softly at you, one of those rare smiles he never really shows others (you feel special every time you see it). You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he rests his head on your shoulder, slightly tired from morning practice. He may be a robot to some, but you see different. He says your name. “Thank you.” Kita murmurs. “Yer a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it.” You reply, trying to keep your composure as well as act normal, resting your head on top of his, praying that he doesn’t hear the way your heart is beating so fast right now, so thunderous, so loud. How has he not noticed by now?

“Ya know, I’m glad yer my friend.” He says and you feel his breath on your shoulder, you feel his hand ghosting the side of yours, you feel your cheeks heat up so bad you feel like your face would melt and catch on fire.

You want to cry. You want to throw up. You want to hug him, kiss him, tell him how much you love him and how much you want to be by his side. How much he means to you. How happy he makes you feel.

But you don’t. You can’t.

You just smile at him. “Hey, Kita.” And you hope your voice doesn’t sound weird, that you don’t sound nervous, that you aren’t stuttering like a bumbling fool. You hope that you don’t throw up after this. And he smiles back at you.

“I’m glad yer my friend too!” You say, eyes shut as you force a smile.

You hope, you pray, that he never finds out what he does to you. At least, not until you tell him yourself. These feelings of yours are like a secret you want to share with him and only him, the only page in your locked diary that you’d willingly tear out and give to him because you’d know your secret is safe with him. A secret only meant for you and him. Your confidant. Your best friend. Your childhood friend. Your everything.

“Thank you.”

If only you were brave enough, prepared enough to trust him with the key.

“Disposable cameras?!"

“Check.”

“Lights?!”

“Check.”

“Okay! Senpai, draft posters?!”

“...”

“Senpai?”

“.....”

“SENPAI!”

You startle out of your daze and stand up straight, finally zoning back in. Classes have ended a few minutes ago and you’re in the clubroom, preparing everything you and your friends need to take the photos for the posters of the volleyball team. Though, you’ve been in a daze all day ever since your talk with Kita this morning. “Huh? Oh, the drafts? Yeah, check.” You quickly say, filing through the stack of papers in your hands.

“Are ya alright? You were zoning out just now.” Ryuji asks you, tilting his head as he looks at you confused.

“Eh? Yeah, I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?” You reply, trying to act normal again.

“I know ya space out sometimes, senpai, but it’s not like ya ta mentally peace out while doing somethin’ fer the club.” Nana says, before she gasps, hand going to cover her mouth almost scandalously as she leans forward. “Is it… is it Mystery Boy Crush—?!”

Immediately, you have Nana’s mouth covered with both your hands, your eyes wide and cheeks red. “No! No, I mean— okay, yeah, it’s Mystery Boy Crush but like—”

Nana shrieks in excitement. “Wait, really?! What happened this time? What did he do??” She asks, eager for details as she pries your hands off her mouth. Ryuji doesn’t say anything but it’s obvious he’s curious too, if the way he’s leaning towards you and tilting his head was any indication.

Both your friends know that you have someone you like (an image that would shock anyone who didn’t know you personally). They know you are close with him, and that you are head over heels over him, but they have no idea as to who your Mystery Boy Crush is. They’re curious though, and overwhelmingly positive about him as all you’ve ever told them is that he’s sweet, studious, and caring (which is true).

“He just… we just talked…” You say, averting your gaze. Honestly, that’s all you really did earlier but your heart still stubbornly and erratically beats.

“Wait, oh my god, shut up, did ya?!" Nana excitedly pries, shaking your shoulders. "Did ya finally confess yer feelings? Did he tell ya he liked ya too?!"

You raise your eyebrows, grabbing Nana's hands to stop her shaking you. "Uh, no. We really just talked." You reply, making her whine out loud.

"Nana, we shouldn't pry too much." Ryuji chastises her and Nana robotically turns her head towards Ryuji, an unimpressed look on her face.

"If ya tell me yer not curious about who senpai's mystery crush is and what they did earlier today, yer a huge liar."

"... yer not entirely wrong." Ryuji admits, rubbing the back of his neck and Nana places her hands on her hips proudly.

"Of course, I'm right!" She says ("I said not entirely wrong—") before turning to you. "Senpai, are ya SURE ya can't give us at least one clue? Like, what club is he in? What does he look like? Is he cute? Hot?"

You blush and lightly push Nana's face, pinching her cheeks. "Not gonna tell ya. It's a secret fer me and me alone." You say and while Nana whines once again and Ryuji looks disappointed, they don't press the issue any further.

"Fineee. Let's just head to the gym now—"

A sudden voice by the doorway interrupts the three of you. You all recognize the voice; Nana snaps her head up, face immediately twisted in displeasure, Ryuji frowns deeply, and you immediately steel yourself, putting on your blank facade once more.

"Looks like we have the clubroom to ourselves then, doesn't it guys?"

At the doorway stood three boys. The one with dark hair is eyeing you and Nana with his blue, keen gaze, lazy smirk plastered on his face. (Sleazy, as Nana would describe him.) The one with strawberry blond hair and red eyes is standing farther back, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes boring into the three of you. The last one with light brown hair is standing front and center, smiling coyly at you and you alone.

It annoyed you.

"You shut yer whore mouth, Hasegawa!" Nana shouts at the dark haired boy, the one who spoke up first earlier.

He frowns at Nana, shaking his head in mock disappointment as he clicks his tongue. "Yer so violent, Nana-chan! Maybe if ya softened up a bit, somebody would take pity and actually have interest in ya." He says, revelling in the way Nana clenches her fists and grits her teeth. "Hmm, maybe grow up a bit while yer at it as well. How old are ya again? Eleven?"

Nana snaps her head to you and Ryuji, and you two can almost see a vein ready to pop in her forehead. "Can I hit him this time?"

"Maybe not…" Ryuji restrains her by the arms in advance.

"Come on now, you two, why don't we get along?" The light brown haired boy says, smiling coyly at Nana this time as he waves his hands to placate her, which irks her even more.

"Joue-senpai." You finally say, voice level. "I thought ya weren't coming to the clubroom today."

While you're the vice president of the art club, Joue Misao is the president of the art club. At least, he should be. He doesn’t really do anything for the club aside from hanging out with his friends, Hasegawa Daiki and Amiya Hotarou, in the clubroom along with the rest of his lackeys. (“Like a bunch of lazy twats,” Ryuji had said once.) It’s annoying, but Misao is well and popular among everyone else for his ikemen-like appearance and “chivalrous” personality. In reality, he’s narcissistic and flat out lousy.

Daiki isn’t a member of the art club; he’s actually not a member of any club right now as he prefers to spend his free time after school doing ‘dodgy’ activities. Hotarou, on the other hand, IS a member of the club but he’s either just brooding in the background during club activities or with Misao and Daiki doing who knows what.

You and your friends weren’t fond of the trio, Nana and Ryuji more riled up because of how Misao dumped all his responsibilities on you and them in the past.

“Oh, we heard that y’all were going to the gym today, so we figured we’d guard the clubroom while yer at it.” Misao replies to you, demure smile now turned back to you. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes though.

“YER our club president! Ya should be helping us right now too—!” Nana rolls up her sleeves, ready to punch anyone if needed, but Misao wags a finger at her.

“Ah, but isn’t this our lovely vice president’s idea? Then this should be their responsibility, shouldn’t it?” He says, side-eyeing you with a smirk on his face and saying your name. “That’s what we talked about yesterday, ain’t that right?”

Your frown deepens and you cast a harsh glare at Misao, but you don’t say anything despite the fact that you’re obviously irked. Ryuji does it for you. “Ya know, ya can’t just blow off all yer responsibilities and expect Vice Pres to—”

“Shut uppp. Yer cutting in on our downtime.” Daiki whines, pushing past the three of you to walk further into the clubroom.

“Hah??! Why I outta—!” You stop Nana with a sigh, leading her and Ryuji out of the clubroom.

“Let’s just go, guys, it’s not worth it.” You say, ignoring the smirk Misao gives you. You push your friends out as they complain, quickly exiting the clubroom before any more bickering can break out.

Hotarou’s red eyes follow you out the door.

“We should’ve cussed ‘im out.”

You give a drawn out sigh as the three of you near the gym. Nana and Ryuji are pissed, rightfully so, with how Misao and his friends had treated the three of you earlier. Honestly, you want to throttle him as well. Wipe that stupid smirk off his face and maybe pull out at least some of his brown hair. But alas, you had a reputation to keep and hitting someone willy nilly wouldn't do anything for you except cause trouble.

"It's really not a big deal." You say, turning to Nana and Ryuji with a dubious look on your face, an eyebrow raised.

"No, it's not not a big deal!" Nana interjects, shaking both her fists in front of her. Her face is red hot with anger, eyebrows furrowed together so tightly you're worried she'd get wrinkles early. "Ya don't deserve treatment like that! Those assholes shouldn't be treating ya that way and personally, I'd give 'em a piece of my mind!"

"I don't normally agree with, uhh, violent methods but Nana's right." Ryuji adds, crossing his lanky arms over his chest as he regards you with stern eyes. "Telling a teacher about his lousiness won't cut it."

"That's right, that's right!"

This shouldn't be the time for your heart to swell at their concern for you, but you can't help it. They really ground you. Support you never knew you needed until you were about to collapse.

Though their willingness to beat someone up for you is endearing in some way, it's not a good idea in the slightest. "They insulted the two of ya, too. I'm more miffed by that than whatever they do or whatever they say ta me." You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "But causing a scene won't solve anything, ya know, we'd only get in trouble and I don't want that for either of ya."

Nana pouts. "We can handle any punishment!"

"I'd rather ya don't handle a punishment in the first place." You sigh again, throwing your head back and staring at the sky. "Let's jus' leave it, yeah? We just have ta deal with Joue-senpai fer another few months."

"Ya mean an entire school year." Nana grumbles as she slumps, extremely exhausted just from that one encounter. "Can y'all believe he said photography is just taking random pictures and photoshopping ta make it pretty? The nerve of that dick!"

"I've had Hasegawa mess up one of my oil paintings by adding an entire cup of water to my paint…" Ryuji adds, rubbing his face with his hands. "And Amiya…"

Nana cuts in. "Amiya's just weird."

You sigh in understanding. "Well, doesn't mean we can't have a fun year, now does it?" You say, trying to light up the mood. Nana looks at you with disbelief.

"Yer so disgustingly optimistic!"

Soon, the three of you arrive at the gym, the double doors wide open. You can hear talking in the gym, loud murmurs, and the occasional squeaking of sneakers against the hardwood floors.

You enter the gym first, followed by Nana and Ryuji. “Excuse me, please pardon the intrusion.” You call out, voice calm and cool and face stoic. The entire team is dressed in their volleyball uniforms and they turn their heads when you announce your arrival. Coach Kurosu is with Kita, their attention now on you the second you called out, and Kita gives you a small smile.

"Ah, members of the art club. I take it Kita asked ya to make the posters fer us." Coach Kurosu asks you as you and your friends approach him.

"Yes, thank you fer letting us borrow yer time today. Especially since we heard the tournament is somewhat soon…"

"Oh, don't worry about that! Just do what ya gotta do fer today." Coach Kurosu assures you, waving his hand, and he turns to Kita. "I'll leave everything to ya then, kid. Gotta meet with some teachers."

Kita nods and you bow to the older man as the coach leaves the gym. The former gives you a smile. "Thanks again." He murmurs to you and you nod, trying not to let a grin spread on your face.

The silver-haired captain then turns to his team and beckons them to gather around, all of them obeying either with a confused or curious expression. "Boys, these are the members of the art club. They'll be helping us create recruitment posters, as well as fundraiser posters."

You bow to the rest of the team, Nana and Ryuji following your lead. "Good afternoon. I'm the vice president of the art club," you say, giving them your name, "these are my fellow members, Hibiki Ryuji and Murasaki Nana. Thank you for havin' us." You have Nana distribute the draft posters so everyone can have a look, while you and your friends set up the lights. You flit your eyes over each member, checking to see if everyone is accounted for. You asked Kita for a list of all his teammates and their positions yesterday when you were making the draft posters.

There’s Aran, Akagi, and Omimi; the three you know the most because you’ve seen them with Kita during school most of the time. There’s the first years as well, though, the only one you know by name is Riseki Heisuke (mostly because Nana has complained about him bumping into her one too many times).

… And there are three second years trying to avoid your gaze.

Ginjima looks like he wants to melt into the floor this time, Atsumu is too busy having a “friendly” glaring match with Nana, Osamu is trying to stifle his laughter. The only second years who are looking at you are Yuto, who’s glancing between you and the aforementioned three in confusion, and…

You narrow your eyes when you see Suna’s yellowish-gray gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t look angry or even annoyed, he’s just staring at you with blank eyes.

What’s his deal?

Blink, please?

“What are you glaring at, High and Mighty?” Suna suddenly says, surprising you and at the same time, managing to make you viscerally angry. High and what?

“Are ya talking ta me?” You speak in a threateningly calm voice, eyebrows raised as you level him with a cold look.

Suna doesn’t flinch and just regards you with a raised eyebrow. “I dunno, am I?”

He’s looking at you with a challenging and indignant glare again, just like he had yesterday. But this time, you don’t know; it’s like there’s something else. Something else he has under his sleeve. You’ve met too many people like him to not know when someone thinks they have a trump card. This look he’s giving you is not just challenging or indignant; it’s sly. And cunning.

Before you can think about it further, Ryuji calls you over for help with the lights. Pursing your lips, you glance back at Suna, rolling your eyes before turning around. “I know you’re well aware that I have a name.” You say. “You know it. Use it.”

Whatever information he thinks he has against you, it wouldn’t make you bat an eye.

“We’ll do a formal group shot first, two rows, shorter members on the front and taller members in the back.” Nana orders after everyone is finished looking at the draft posters, and you and Ryuji have the lights ready. “We don’t have all day! If ya lose yer dignity being singled out as the shortest teammate, I don’t care!”

"Should you be talking?!"

You watch with a sigh as Nana wrangles everybody to their proper positions. Ryuji is pale with how many tall athletes Nana is quickly making enemies of, and you can practically hear all the backup plans he's mentally forming if she ever manages to anger 3 or more of them. "I'm going to have an aneurysm."

"Don't have it here."

"I'm gonna have a medical emergency and yer tellin' me ta hold it in?"

When the players have lined up now, Nana looks at them with a scrutinizing gaze, hand on her chin as she looks at them one by one. "Senpai," she calls out to you, "do ya think their positions are alright?"

Blinking, you give them all a once over, pursing your lips. "I think it'd be better if the front row crouches or sits down, and the tallest members in the back row stand on each end…" As you ramble, you walk forward and begin rearranging all the volleyball club members in the back row, tallest ones on each end and their heights descending towards the middle.

Some of the first years blush when you nonchalantly grab their arms and wrists to pull them to a new spot. You don't give it much thought. You're too busy with what you're doing.

You were so busy that you didn't notice the foot jutting out in front of your path and you trip on it, eyes wide as you flail your arms in front of you to break your fall. The impact doesn't come, however; an arm swiftly wraps around your waist, stopping your fall.

The air is knocked out of your lungs for a moment before you quickly gather your bearings, twisting around to look at the culprit who tripped you and the savior who caught you.

They're one in the same.

Suna stares down at you with the same blank eyes, brown bangs cascading down his face. You're acutely aware of his arm still wrapped around your waist even as you manage to stand upright once again. Barely registering Kita's voice asking if you're alright, you watch as Suna glances at Kita and back at you with a scrutinizing gaze, almost as if… he's trying to decipher something.

Just…

Just what is this guy planning?!

Student ID: Joue Misao

Class 3-7, President of the Art Club

Age: 18

Birthday: April 1

Fun Fact: Once, he saved a first year's cat from a tree to show off, fell on his bum while climbing down, and found out it wasn't even the first year's cat.

Student ID: Hasegawa Daiki

Class 3-2

Age: 18

Birthday: September 5

Fun Fact: He once tried to date three girls at the same time but they all broke up with him on the same day without being aware of one another.

Student ID: Amiya Hotarou

Class 3-1

Age: 17

Birthday: February 29/March 1 (on non-leap years)

Fun Fact: He always gets confused when he doesn't see his birthday on the calendar when it's not a leap year.

[dinosaurtsukki]

⸺𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀 15: lollipops + pop rock candies

i should be over all the butterflies | a chuuya x gn!reader smau

a/n: okay ngl the written part here has 0 proofreading just like the final essay i'm about to submit for class also damn i love chuuya

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹:

"i can't believe they had crazy dips there. i haven't had these in forever!" chuuya heard you giggle excitedly as you two left the convenience store.

"i can't believe you still actually bought some," he added.

"you act like you weren't the one who actually got a cavity and had a tooth pulled out from eating too many crazy dips," you smirked and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. chuuya didn't even bother to sidestep it.

"whatever. can you open mine? my hands are kinda full."

"got it."

chuuya held both convenience store bags full of water bottles and a hangover cure or two specifically for ranpo, who had been throwing up for a good while, in his hands as the two of you made your way back. a while ago, when he left the bathroom, chuuya was more than a bit shocked to find that you weren't in the garage anymore. after all, he remembered that you normally didn't do well in parties and he was worried that trying to bring you out of your shell would only make you want to crawl back in even further.

good thing oda said you just went out to buy water and chuuya happened to move quick enough to catch you. and right now, he was watching you tear open a package of crazy dips with your teeth and dipping a lollipop into the pop rocks with utmost concentration.

"here's yours," you said, handing chuuya his pack.

"thanks."

"this brings back memories," you sighed as you ate your lollipop. "remember when i accidentally dropped mine and my mom told me to throw it away?"

"and then we tried to wash it off with a nearby water fountain," chuuya laughed. "but then your mom caught us and threw it away for good."

"i was crying so hard," you pouted and chuuya could almost see how you looked back then with tears streaming from your eyes and your hands wiping at the snot on your nose.

"and i gave you mine to shut you up," he said.

"you did? really?" you looked at him in disbelief.

"of course i did! what do you take me for?" chuuya watched as you scrunched your eyebrows while struggling to remember.

"yeah, you did," you laughed softly to yourself and dipped your lollipop back into the packet of pop rocks. "you know, i never thought i'd forget about something you did for me."

"it was literally just a lollipop, y/n," chuuya chuckled.

"we both know it's more than that," you said and there was no way chuuya would possibly miss the shift in your tone. 'i guess we're talking about that now, huh?' chuuya thought.

"was it... my fault that we lost touch?"

"we're both too old to point fingers now, chuuya," you shook your head. "i mean, it was also kind of my fault for ignoring you."

"but it all started at the party, right?" chuuya said. you nodded slowly, biting at your lollipop stick.

"kind of."

chuuya guiltily remembered that night when the two of you were invited to your first party back in high school. it was actually him who who really wanted to go and actually make new friends after being one of the most unpopular people back in middle school. of course, you said yes because you couldn't say no to your best friend.

"i'm really sorry for ditching you," chuuya finally apologized. "and for making you go home by yourself that night. and, for everything else after."

it had been eating him for the longest time and finally saying it out loud was a weight off chuuya's chest. especially hearing you laugh and lightly punch his shoulder.

"sorry again for posting that embarrassing video of you."

"i guess we're even then, huh?" chuuya smirked.

"we're even," you nodded. "we're cool."

the two of you were just a few blocks away from tachihara's garage and chuuya kind of wished you were both farther just so he could have a moment longer outside. right now, you were digging through your packet for more pop rocks with your lollipop.

"they never put enough pop rocks in this," you pouted, coming up empty.

"no, they do put enough pop rocks you just load your entire lollipop at the first go and don't ration it out," chuuya snorted. you pouted and continued digging through your packet.

"here, have the rest of mine," he said, handing you his own packet of pop rocks. you blinked at him, unsure, before smiling and dipping your lollipop in.

"thank you!" you sang.

"yeah, yeah. you owe me more crazy dips next time we go out," chuuya said. 'next time, there's gonna be a next time,' he thought happily to himself.

he missed this: eating crazy dips and always making sure to have some leftover pop rocks in his packet just in case yours ran out. he missed walking home with you beside him and how he'd almost always go out of his way to make you happy. chuuya missed you, and this moment was more than enough.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

masterlist | ↞ prev next ↠

⸺𝒻𝓊𝓃 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓈

↠ get yourself a man like chuuya who'd give you his extra pop rock candies also the crazy dips lollipops look like feet i just realized that now

↠ in case you're wondering about more details as to what happened during The Party (the one with high school!y/n and chuuya) the previous chapter does give a hint

↠ nobody told ranpo he had to eat something substantial and that the fruity cocktails are the most alcoholic ones please pray for his stomach

⸺𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

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