#though I could then reblog to my main once I’ve read it???

[pizzaqueen]

I just can’t keep up with all the fic there is to read 😫😭

[minranghae]

touch | 18+

》 pairing: c.jongho x f!reader

》 genre: hurt/comfort, smut, fluff

》 warnings: ceo!jongho, grumpy jongho, whiny reader, hurt/comfort, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), aftercare, makeup sex, age gap (not a major plot point)

》 wc: 4.2k

》 thank you so much for reading this, it's my first full fic that i've written on here!!!!! if i forgot any tags, please lmk :) reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 also, the main song i listened to when i wrote this was versace on the floor by bruno mars

“Jongho, sweetheart, don’t you think you should come to bed now? I think you deserve a break,” you whine as you enter his office, a pout forming on your lips seeing his still, working figure.

You take a moment to admire his features on your way in. His dark hair that perfectly framed his face, those piercing eyes that seemed to cut through you every time he looked at you, and those strong arms you just loved to be wrapped in whenever he hugged you.

Well, that was if he did decide to hug you. Just as strong as his arms is Jongho’s work ethic. Sure, any CEO is bound to be busy. When you’re busy it’s easy to get stressed, and when Jongho gets stressed, it’s as if you don’t exist. He was never super touchy to begin with, but every morning he retreats to his home office without even a hug or a kiss. Just a simple good morning, or sometimes, nothing at all. With Jongho’s already packed schedule and new business plans, it’s clear you weren’t going to get his attention any time soon. But, who would you be if you didn’t at least try to get some from him? 

Making your way to his desk, you prepared yourself to put on your cutest face; wide puppy-dog eyes and a sad lip bite at the ready, but with the way Jongho looked up at you, the only emotion present on your face was nervousness. You could see the dark bags forming under his eyes, seemingly becoming darker by the second, and paired with his furrowed eyebrows, you began to think maybe it would've been better to just cuddle with your teddy bear tonight.

“I-it’s just when you work so hard like this, you don’t seem happy at all, you know? I just want to see you smile again. I know, I know, work is busy and you have deadlines and all that, but can’t you just come sleep with me… just this once? I miss you holding me every night. I feel so lonely, Jongie,” You pleaded with him in your shakiest voice. Maybe that would convince him, if he just saw how desperate you were to spend some time with him. Fidgeting with your hands, you awaited his response. Too anxious to look up at him, you focused your sight on the floor beneath you.

“Y/n, you know I can’t do that right now. It’ll get better, but I really need some quiet right now. So…” He looked at you with pursed lips, then quickly looked back towards the door. A silent signal that it was your time to leave. You weren’t going to let him get rid of you that quickly though. No, he just had to see it your way.

“Jongie, are you sure?” You questioned him with a higher pitch, using the nickname you know he usually melts for. He just leaned forward in his chair, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, trying to regain his focus. He let out a soft hum, acknowledging you, but deciding not to indulge you. 

Soon, you find yourself sneaking behind him, your hands resting on his shoulders. You tried to press a kiss to his cheek, but he shrugged you off quickly with a huff of annoyance.

“Y/n, stop bothering me. I’ve got some really important stuff to catch up with here. Stop being so clingy.” Jongho breathed out, frustration evident in his words.

God, you’re such an idiot. Did you really expect this little plan of yours to work? Jongho is a busy man. You really shouldn’t bother him just because you’re feeling neglected. Sure, the bed is cold at night, but he does so much for you. You wouldn’t have the lifestyle you do without him. If you two hadn’t met that day two years ago, you'd still be a broke college student, struggling to make ends meet. Maybe instead of interrupting him, you should just be thankful for what you have. At the end of the day, at least he’s there.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, “I’m sorry for interrupting Jongho. Won’t happen again.”

And with that, you scurried out of the office and back into your shared bedroom. The shared bedroom that was slowly becoming just yours each and every day.

--------

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes shot open. 

“God, what time is it?” You murmured to yourself, words slurring together. The bright light from your phone nearly blinded you as you checked the clock. It was 3 am. He’s just finishing now? I wish he would get some proper rest.

“Can I come in?” Jongho’s voice broke into the room. He sounded serious. What if he was getting ready to break up with you? After all, Jongho had always been one to cut out unnecessary distractions from his life. Normally you admired that; his determination and drive was nothing short of excellence. His maturity and guidance was what first attracted you to him. But it broke your heart knowing that you were next on his chopping block.

Truth is, Jongho heard you crying. Really, you’re not subtle when you’re upset. He went to check in on you a few hours ago, actually. But when he saw his t-shirt draped over the teddy bear he’d given you months ago, your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks pressed into said teddy bear, he knew he fucked up. The past few weeks had just been so stressful for him. With a never ending to-do list, Jongho didn’t have much time to think of anything else. 

He did think of you though. He always did. The picture of you two on vacation that sat on his desk never went a day without being picked up to be examined. It was one of the first things you two did together as a couple, and god, he wished he could go back. Jongho normally didn’t show much affection in public, instead opting to keep his cold appearance up. But being there with you was too much for him. It’s like you two were connected at the hip on that vacation. Everywhere you went, Jongho had his hand on your hip or around your shoulders. You just make him so happy, and he loses himself around you. Not that that’s a bad thing.

He never wanted to make you upset. But, he lost track of himself. Of course, that wasn’t an excuse, but maybe if you saw it his way then you’d be able to forgive him. After checking in on you earlier, Jongho devised a plan. He quickly got to work in his office, this time solely focusing on you. He first made a call to an assistant of his, apologizing for the late notice of his request, and asked for a bouquet of flowers. He wanted something sweet and dainty- something that reminded him of you. Thirty minutes later, the assistant showed up with a bouquet of Lily of the Valley flowers, beautifully tied together with green and purple ribbon. Next, Jongho wrote a sweet note, apologizing for his treatment of you over the past couple of weeks. It was always hard for Jongho to express himself verbally, so this would be the best course of action for him. Finally, he had taken off of work for a week, allowing time for him to devote himself completely to you. He swore to himself that wasn’t going to let himself upset you anymore, and it was finally time to show you that.

You looked up at Jongho as he poked his head in from behind the door. His eyes softened as they met yours. He began walking towards you with his hands behind his back, hiding his surprise for you. But with the way you jumped up and just about sprinted to him, it seemed like he was the one in for a surprise.

“Look, I know I messed up Jongho. I’m sorry, I really am! Just, please don’t break up with me,” you looked up at him, guilt wracking every part of your body, “I promise it won’t happen again. I even cleaned up around here! I figured I’d get some of the more unimportant things out of here for you.”

Jongho looked around the room. He noticed the lack of knick knacks you always seemed to bring home with you after a day out. The sheets were changed from the pink floral set that you adored to a plain white set. Everything in the room seemed dull. The only semblance of normalcy left in the room was the teddy bear sitting on the bed.

“I-” Jongho started, not quite realizing what an effect he’d had on you. You were never one to change so easily; it was one of the things he loved about you. This only made him feel worse. Not only that, but the way your voice shook as you talked and the obvious tears swelling in your water lines, Jongho had to stop himself from crying. 

“Sweetheart, I would never break up with you. You know that, right?” he reassured you, pulling out the bouquet and note he’d prepared. Your eyes lit up upon seeing this, confusion and relief swelling in your features simultaneously. 

“Here,” he said, sitting down on the foot of your bed, beckoning you to join him. Just before you could sit next to him though, he patted his leg, signaling you to sit in lap. As you do, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in as close to him as possible. He hands you the bouquet and note, allowing you a moment to look at the gift and read the note. As you read it, tears begin to fall down both of your faces. Sure, you felt like you needed to be touched like this, but you didn’t expect it to be as emotional as it was. As for Jongho, the guilt of hurting you had really begun to sting. Seeing you so broken up over a few absent-minded words had confused him at first. But once he finally had you in his arms again, he realized it had been weeks of neglect leading up to this point. He was hurting not only you, but himself, too. He just didn’t know he was doing it.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I never meant to hurt you like this,” he explained, wiping the tears away from your face and simply letting his own soak into his skin. His hands raked through your hair gently while he admired your face. “Never gonna let it happen again. Can’t believe I let this go for so long.”

“S’okay, Jongie,” you stammered out between soft cries. You tightened your arms around his neck even more, fingers gripping at shirt, as if he was going to leave any second. “I understand you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“Princess, you’ll always be number one on my list. You’re my top priority,” he said, finally regaining his composure and moving you to straddle him. Taking the gifts from your hands, he gently placed them to the side and took your face into his hands. He circled his thumbs on your cheeks, quietly asking you to stop crying. 

“I missed this, Jongho. I just love you so much. I’m sorry I’m such a burden sometimes-” but before you could continue, he cut you off.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be sorry,” he looked deep into your eyes, making sure you internalized each word he said, “and I am. I’m so sorry, baby. I know how much you care, and I want you to know how much I care, too. I love you so, so much, darling. I know I’m not the best with my words, so will you let me make it up to you another way?” Jongho questioned, his fingers tracing the edge of your pajama shorts, occasionally sneaking underneath the fabric. His eyes met yours, looking needier than ever. 

With your nod of approval, Jongho lifted your shirt off your body, exposing your bare chest. His hands were quick to touch you, rubbing and pulling lightly at each nipple. You leaned into him further with each touch, and soon, your lips connected in a sweet, tender kiss. Jongho only deepened the kiss as he let his hands run freely over your body, as if he were rediscovering a terrain that he had begun to forget. His hands snuck inside your shorts, past the band of your underwear, and began to rub soft circles into your clit. Occasionally, his fingers would briefly slip into your hole, gathering some of your slick to use as a lubricant, still circling your clit at a steady pace.

Jongho pressed his forehead against yours in order to catch your attention, “How do you want me, baby?”

“Doesn’t matter, just want you, Jongie,” you babbled, so desperate for him to go faster with his ministrations. Your hips bucked onto his fingers each time they left your clit, hoping he’d slip a finger fully in.

“Mm-mm,” he hummed, “It’s all about you tonight. Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he insisted. Awaiting a response, he pulled his hand from your shorts, eliciting a whine from you. He hooked his arms under your legs, picking you up and laying you down on the bed. Gently, he pulled your shorts and underwear off together in one go. You could almost see the sparkle in his eyes as they traversed your body. He leaned down leaving just inches between your faces, “You gonna answer me, baby?”

“I think I want your tongue-” you began, but before you could finish, Jongho had pulled you to the edge of the bed and kneeled down, coming face to face with your cunt. He lifted your bottom half up, placing one forearm under you and the other on top, letting your legs rest on top of his shoulders. He let one thumb come to your clit, picking up from where he left off earlier. It didn’t take him long to dive into your pussy. Lapping at it like a starved man, he’d drag his tongue up and down your soaked cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into you. With each drag of his tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, but everytime Jongho heard an influx of moaning and felt your hips buck up, he’d slow down slightly, not wanting you to cum just yet.

“So pretty, princess,” He said, coming up for air. His mouth and chin glistened as he smiled up at you with nothing but affection. It was as if he were touching you for the first time all over again. He was trying to take things slow, wanting to solely focus on making you feel good, but he couldn’t help but rut himself into the mattress when he heard those sweet moans of yours. He removed his hand from your clit, bringing it down to your hole instead. He toyed at your entrance, not quite deciding if he should go in or not.

“Please Jongie, want your fingers, too.”

And his mind was made up. He plunged two fingers in, focusing his mouth on your clit now. Your pussy basically sucked his fingers in, a sloshing noise coming from it. Jongho watched your face contort in pleasure. Your eyebrows strung together and your cheeks stained with a light blush. What a sight to see. It only made him want to work you harder. Shoving his fingers in up to the knuckle this time, he pistoned in and out of you, occasionally twisting them upwards to press his fingertips into your most sensitive spots. He just couldn’t get enough of how amazing your pussy felt; so soft, warm, and wet. So perfect for him.

“Gonna cum, Jong…So close” you whined out, pleasure filling every inch of your body. It was like he was sent into overdrive, his soft licking at your clit turned into harsh sucking at it, lips surrounding the bud completely. His fingers fucked into you at a pace you’d yet to feel in your life. It was desperate on both ends, each of you melting completely into one another’s touch.

Jongho had almost missed it, too focused on getting you there to notice your quickly approaching orgasm. He lifted his head up to watch you cum, as it had always been one of his favorite sights. The way your head slammed back into the mattress and your back arched up, sending your tits into the air for him to admire made him swear up and down that you were an angel sent for him. Giving you time to come down, he listened to the warbled sounds coming from you and collected the slick that was slowly leaking out of you onto his fingers and pushed it back into you.

“Jesus Christ, I missed that,” Jongho said with a groan, standing up to hold you in his arms. He lifted your back up so you were now sitting on the edge of the bed with him still slotted in between your legs. He brushed some strands of hair out of your face, his hand coming down to trace your jawline. He brought your face up to his and stole a couple kisses from you. You nudged your face into his hand, hoping somehow it could stay there forever. Something about his touch was always so grounding.

“Still okay to keep going, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, hoping to get the greenlight from you. 

You don't answer verbally, instead choosing to undo the buckle of his belt, using it to bring him in closer to you. As you unzip his pants and pull them down, his cock springs out, nearly hitting you in the face. Your tongue poked out of your mouth, getting ready to devour him until you felt his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes then. Lay back, baby. Gonna take such good care of you tonight.” He gently pushed you back, noticing a look of concern on your face. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He said, slightly panicked.

“Don’t you want me to… you know,” You said, making a blowjob motion towards him. 

God, you’re so cute.

“Darling, I’m making it up to you, aren’t I? You don’t have to do anything tonight, just let me make you feel good.” A smirk adorned his face, enamored with how sweet you are. His hands traced up and down your sides, a gentle, but steadying motion. 

You reached your arms up, looping them around his neck to pull him into a kiss. It was chaste, quick and simple, but so passionate. It was as if you were kissing him for the first time again. You let his tongue explore your mouth, enjoying the low groan he let out as he did so. Barely breaking away, you looked into his eyes, deep and glistening, and asked, “Can I have you inside me now? Want’ to feel you inside.”

That was all he needed to hear before he lined himself up with your entrance, pumping his cock a few times before he did so. He teasingly dragged the tip up and down your folds before sinking into you. It was slow, but languid. He wanted you to feel every part of him, every vein and curve on him, just to remind you that you’d never have to go without again. His voice was low and throaty as he bottomed out, letting soft moans fall from his lips. 

“Baby girl, you feel so good,” he stops, waiting for you to adjust to the size. Once ready, he pulls his hips back achingly slowly, almost pulling out all the way, just to force himself back in. Your fingers curled into his hair and your legs wrapped around his waist, begging for him to be deeper in you. 

“Love feeling you inside like this, Jongie,” you whine, “please keep going.” 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he assured you, “never gonna leave you alone again.” 

He took your face into his hands, planting kisses all over your face. His hips pick up their pace, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. While his pace was still slow, it was steady and deep. Jongho wasn’t fucking you to get himself off, he was fucking you to get you off. And god it felt so good. As his hips continued to snap into yours, the loud sound of skin on skin echoing in the room, you could feel yourself coming close to your climax. And you knew Jongho was almost there, too, based on the wince he let out each time he thrusted into you. 

“I’m so close, Jongie, are you?” You asked, the heat burning in your core only getting warmer. He nodded, unable to speak through his own groaning. He planted one hand by your head to steady himself while the other took yours into his, lacing your fingers together. Even though his orgasm was slowly approaching, he wanted you to cum first. He forgot how much he loved the way it felt when you came on him. 

Staring down at you, Jongho quickened his thrusts, making sure to hit that spot deep inside you that he knew felt so good. Over and over again, harder and harder. It sent a rush of electricity through your body, limbs shaking and back arching as your orgasm washed over you. He loved how your cunt clenched down on him, a warm rush of arousal pooling around the base of his cock. 

“That was so good, princess. Such a sweet girl,” Jongho barely let out, “Think I’m gonna come now, too.”

“Want it inside me, Jongho.” 

That was enough to send him over the edge. His hips rutted into yours desperately. Spilling his seed into you, he stopped thrusting and just sat there for a moment, basking in the warmth around him. His forehead pressed against yours, noses nudging together and eyes staring into each other with great affection. 

“You forgive me yet?” He pulled out, eliciting a whine from you. 

“I forgave you when I saw the flowers,” you chuckled, sitting up on your elbows. Jongho flopped down next to you. His chest rose and fell shallowly, trying to regain some of his breath. 

“I figured,” he looked at you, eyes gleaming with joy, “but it was still nice, right?” 

“Of course it was. I love it every time, you know that. And I missed it so much, you don’t even know.”

“Baby, I don’t even think I knew how much I needed it,” he pulled you into him, his hand massaging into the skin of your hip, “I know I said this, but I’m never gonna leave you like that again, got it?” You returned a simple nod, too tired to answer verbally. 

“Ready to get cleaned up?” You answered again with a nod, sleep already seeping into your bones. Jongho left the room, heading to the bathroom to clean himself up and fill up the tub. Not long after, he came back for you, pulling you up into his arms to carry you to the bathroom. Checking the water temperature and deciding it was alright, he placed you into the tub. It was silent between you two, but that’s what you liked about aftercare with him. You didn’t need words to bring you back to your normal mindset, his touch was always enough.

His hands massaged your shoulders, knocking every knot and tight spot out of your body. They moved down your body, working until he could confidently say you wouldn’t feel sore in the morning. He then went on to take a washcloth to your body, scrubbing the sweat and other body fluids off of you, paying extra attention to the insides of your thighs. During all of this, he gently hummed one of your favorite songs. It was a ritual for him to care for you like this. It made him feel good, like he protected you like no one else could. Sure, he was always working, but when he was working to please you, it made him feel so much more important. 

Once finished cleaning you off, he drained the tub. Turning his attention back to you, he planted a kiss to your forehead and helped you out of the tub. You purred as he wrapped a warm towel around you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you stayed there for a moment, just swaying in each other’s arms. 

He didn’t want to say anything to ruin the quiet atmosphere in the bathroom, so instead he hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. He placed a tender kiss to your lips, knowing that you’d understand just how much he cared for you in that moment. 

[inlovewithpandora]

- Instructions -

Pairing: Hobie x fem!pregnant!reader

Request: [ @spidersthetic ] building a new piece of furniture from a flat pack together w Hobie || Ok, so what I was thinking for this was reader is pregnant and they're setting up the nursery and Hobie claims to know how to build the crib without the instructions and she doubts he can but enjoys the show as he struggles so like 10 minutes later, he gives up and asks her to give him the instructions and she tries not to laugh and comforts him a little.

Synopsis: Hobie tries to put together your child’s crib but it doesn’t goes the way he planned in his head.

Content: fluff, established relationship, Hobie trying to avoid instructions at all costs, reader supporting him no matter what, small Miguel diss, Reader being a cutie, cute and fluffy pregnancy fic

Author’s Note: I had fun writing this! This is my first time writing for astv or anything outside of avatar so I hope you all enjoy this!

- Shoutout to @spidersthetic for all her encouraging words and helping me while I’ve been making my transition to writing for astv! If it wasn’t for her sending me prompts/requests I wouldn’t have known what to write!

Word Count: 710

Extra: Requests are closed! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

Links: Navigation || Astv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

“Hobie, baby, can you please just read the instructions? I’ve been sitting in here with you for half an hour and nothing is done.”

“I told you I don’t need instructions. I got this. Don’t you have faith in your man?” His overconfident smile rises as he walks over and plants a kiss on your forehead to reassure you that he could handle this since in his eyes, it’s a minuscule task.

You shake your head, a chuckle emerging from your lips, knowing that this was going to go the opposite of what Hobie has in mind. “You’re right baby. I’m sorry, you got this!” You give him a wide smile along with two thumbs up to emphasize your support, and settle back to watching him once again attempt to put together your unborn child’s crib.

It’s been ten minutes since his last attempt, and just like you assumed it isn’t going well. However you wouldn’t deny that it was currently your source of entertainment. Hobie has multiple pieces scattered around the nursery; screws, and bolts attached to parts they shouldn’t be. And he looks by all means confused about how to assemble the crib.

As Hobie continues trying to figure out which part goes where, he starts growing frustrated. Each time he puts two pieces together, they don’t fit or the screw doesn’t align properly, which makes him groan as the feeling of aggravation arises a tad more with each passing failure.

You know he’s struggling and that he needs the instructions, but due to his stubbornness being mixed with a sense of determination, he doesn’t give up, at least for about another fifteen minutes.

“Can you pass me the bloody instructions?” He grumbles, hating the fact he has to admit defeat and cave to using someone else’s ideology of how to build a piece of furniture.

Looking at the scowl formed on his lips makes you want to burst with laughter, but you implement all your self-restraint and bury it deep down, knowing that it would only make him feel worse about not being able to complete the task solely on his own.“Here,” you hand him the pamphlet of instructions, “Honey, it’s okay to use the instructions, you know. I heard that Miguel had to use instructions to work the majority of technology in Spider-HQ even though he acts like he knows everything like the back of his hand.” You say in a playful tone, knowing how much Hobie dislikes Miguel and enjoys hearing stories about his screw ups.

“Really? Well, that does make sense. He is almost ancient at this point. I don’t see why he doesn’t retire and live a regular life instead of chasing Miles around Earth-928B like a madman.” He can’t help letting the laugh rise, thinking about how Miles blasted and defeated Miguel in front of everyone.

“Yes! So my point is that it’s okay to use instructions. They're here for a reason, which is to help.” You rub his back gently, hoping this will help lessen his complaints.

“You’re right, I’ll use the instructions.” He opens the pamphlet and begins to correctly assemble the crib, which makes you happy since you’ve been wanting this to finally be completed with the baby just a few months away from arriving.

“See, baby, your daddy is finally getting it done. He just needed a little kick in the pants from mommy.” You giggle softly to yourself as you rub your baby bump and watch Hobie make the final adjustments on the crib.

“How does it look?” He asks, inspecting the fully assembled crib in the corner of the nursery.

“Perfect, Hobie. I knew you could get it done!”

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

Next Fic

Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @inspace1 @number1gal @phoenixx69 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @gamerxpfighter

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

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

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

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

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected. 

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

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

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[pretzlforpresident]

What are your thoughts on the sonic manga?(I know you’ve made and reblogged art for it so you like it to some degree) but I’d still like to hear what you have to say on it. Is there anything that interests you in particular about it? Do you have any headcanons or ideas around it?

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

I really like the sonic mangas and think they are a corner of the sonic canon that needs to be discussed more. I think I find myself drawn to them partly because of their obscurity and that there are some interesting ideas in them that you don't see much of anywhere else in the franchise.

I've got some ideas spinning around in my brain for general ideas, things I've noticed, and headcanons, so here are a few!

I think that Nicky would be fun to fit into Sonic's arc growing up and becoming a hero! I have an idea I am currently working on that I need to organize my thoughts for, but Nicky being unaware that he is a hero, eventually realizing that he is, and growing because of it is something I want to explore possibly in a future au of sorts. From what I understand by reading as much of the manga as I could find around, Sonic has been around for a while, sort of as a literal force of good. When Nicky turns into him, I think it's interesting how even though he's doing good and being a hero, he still is basically possessing the body of some kid who is unaware of these actions. The main character of a superhero story being unaware that they are a hero is a concept that I don't think is very common(at least not that I've seen), so there's a tricky balance of morality at play here that could be interesting to see!

Tania/Anita is one of my favorite characters probably in the whole franchise. Remember, it’s Tania’s world. You’re just living in it. Tania or die.

Paulie, being a pilot, taught Nicky about planes when he was young and how to care for them as a bonding thing. I think it would be cute if Sonic eventually passed on this information to Tails as a Parallel. I’ve been seeing a lot of people recently drawing sonic older, and one thing that I absolutely love is when they give him some scruff on his chin because I think subconsciously “omg he looks like Paulie…"

I think Shadow and Tania should be friends. Like, Tania trying to keep up to shadow in his air shoes while she roller blades, then Shadow giving her skating lessons. Making fun of Sonic together(playfully). Maybe that’s just me though

Sonic was classically trained on violin and now plays the guitar? Hilarious. I need him to have gifted kid burnout.

That's all I can think of right now! once again thank you for asking :D

[tikay21]

🐺How to use hashtags on tumblr to organize a story!

It was like paddling in an open sea .... Ok, it really took me 4 years to figure out the thing with the internal hashtags on Tumblr and realize that there is an advantageous sense in them initially only working within your own blog. If you don’t really need them, the benefit isn’t immediately obvious.

Plus, the display of the most commonly used hashtags leads you to assume they are more universally intended. The advantage of internal blog hashtags didn’t click for me - until the moment I actually needed them to bring order to my blog chaos and understood that you can easily sort everything with them, especially when it comes to storytelling.

I originally thought: “I'll make sideblogs for the stories, so I can have everything neatly gathered, with matching colors and background images." However, the hashtags from the main blog don’t work in the sideblogs anymore unless I link them and unless I’ve missed something again. Now I’m wondering if I even need the sideblogs anymore. Probably not. So, new plan:

I’ll post everything on my main blog

tag it with both specific and general tags

using intern unique tags for different supposes

and that’s pretty much it. At the top of a pinned post, I’ll provide an overview of what you can find under which hashtag, and they’ll automatically function as a sorter for an entire internal storyline. Done.

Btw, thanks for the right hints, which made me take a closer look, test things out, and understand how it works by answering my question on it here ...

@figure-it-out-later and @tenyrasims - which made me think about it and especially @satureja13 for the needed key to my head to unlock this blind point🥰. from @satureja13 : ... I just make sure to tag every post properly so I can add new stuff to my pinned post. You can also keep your pinned post clean by making sub posts, like I do for my chapters, for example. ... I can find every event, character, location… within seconds. That’s what I really love about tumblr.

So, what can I do now to satisfy my need for beeing over organization🙈? Technically, I could delete the sideblogs, but I can also use them in parallel, reblogging the respective content there, and thus have everything in a separate place, visually appealing with the story-appropriate colors - for my own peace of mind or for anyone who prefers to read there. But I’ll only reblog, not post the original, so following the sideblogs isn’t really necessary - though of course, you can if you prefer the color-coordinated layout there. If I ever decide it’s all too much, I can delete the sideblogs without losing my original content, as long as I only reblog from the mainblog to the sideblogs.

Is anyone still following? Probably not,😂 but I think this works for me.

Long story short: I’m going to rearrange things once more and adjust the pinned post accordingly... and bring any duplicate content back to the main blog. My old stuff from before the long break will stay here, and maybe I’ll update broken links if I ever get bored - not that I know the meaning of the word, lol. Otherwise, it’ll just stay as it is, since there’s barely anything left in my EA gallery, except for the stuff that can’t be deleted.

Ok, here we go ...

[dmitriyuriev]

Hi! I saw the post with your DLC thoughts (reblog from your main), and... girl, you're just reading my mind. Once again I'm just glad to be not alone in this. All so true... I've been greatly inspired by this game and the original lore, too. And became really dissappointed with the DLC. Yes, there are nice lore bits (on Marika and some others), new characters... Messmer, after all... But the main story looks like just a late April fool's joke.

I'm especially sad over what they did to Mohg. Agreed with you, and someone had to say this! Yeah, him being a victim makes no sense. Maybe, also fanservice and a joke for all those making dirty jokes about him... But it's so unreasonable. I too think it was the Formless Mother all along.

And Ansbach. Still need more thoughts on Ansbach, some people tend to like how reasonable and sane he looks... But what we get is his POV, his opinions, and he's still a devout follower.

That 'beat the allegations' make my eye twitch, too. I like Mohg pretty much, but let he stay a villain in all his viullanous glory, not the victim.

Thanks for the support and food for thought (over my own theories&headcanons).

Must also say, I loved that angsty Mohg&Miq fiq you've illustrated once (with deformed Miq hatched from his cocoon and Mohgwyn dynasty succeeding), your art made me start reading it (still need to finish it lol). So if you make more art after all, that will be great.

Yeah, I’ve talked to a number of people now dissatisfied with the DLC main story, it’s just so disconnected from what they set up in the base game. It’s a shame too after they made such a beautiful world and even gave us more on Trina, who has a lovely design… but the stuff I was most excited for was Mohg and Miquella, and they got hit the worst.

I swear people are just latching on to whatever excuse they can to avoid the implications of how Mohg violated Miq’s body, even though the charm isn’t complete mind control… he still had the blood cult and found the Mother, and Miq was trying to ward off Outer Gods, not get tangled up in them like what Mohg was trying to do

I don’t know why people act like Ansbach is some chill and good person, he’s still part of the BLOOD CULT. And we’ve seen through the sanguine nobles and even Mohg himself that the dynasty values elegance and refinement (look how they dress, and their swordplay, and how Mohg greets you, Ansbach’s incantation even points out how unusual it is for being so aggressive) so I don’t think it’s that surprising that he would be polite. Either way, he’s loyal to his lord so of course he’d focus on wrongs against him instead of anything Mohg was doing to Miq.

Yeah, Mohg is great because of his past leading to a warped sense of love, that results in him doing such horrific things, taking that away from him makes him so much more boring, why would people even want not to have the implied sexual abuse (or parallel to it)? That too was a fascinating part of his character.

Oh, Divine Spectacle? It’s a favorite of mine, I love looking at a possibility where Mohg’s goals succeed and it’s so well written, I’m glad my art could get someone to read it, that’s one of the many reasons I like to illustrate fics! I think I will still keep drawing them, even if it’s just out of spite for people trying to deny his abuse of Miq, and also there are many good fics I’d like to draw for too

[suffarustuffaru]

Okay, this is a random request, but Sean Chiplock (Subaru voice actor for the English dub) is gonna be at a comic con I’m going to in 2 days and I want to get an autograph but I haven’t decided yet what quote to get along with the signature.

So what are your fav re:zero quotes said by Subaru (that I could realistically get written on a print)?

I’ve only just started reading the light novels as well (though I am tempted to get “you are an amazing guy, Natsuki Subaru”, because I know the context of the scene even if I haven’t read it yet ahaha) but since it’s the dub voice actor it’d probably make more sense to get a quote he’s actually already voiced (and since season 3 isn’t out yet).

So anyway, now I’m just rambling, but any suggestions?

YOOOOOO i hope you have fun at the con anon!! :DD and i hope you get to see other rezero fans there if that is something you want. !!

im definitely fond of the rezero dub and sean chiplocks performance as subaru is one of the standouts fr. and of course the "youre an amazing guy" quote is SO GOOD i hope youve had a good time with reading the light novels :o but trueee gotta save that quote for After season three...

alright so i have some quotes for you :3 you can shorten them or paraphrase them or something as you see fit <3 i tried hard to find quotes by like. googling. or consulting fellow rezero mutuals. or by pirating rezero english dub HAH

"My name is Subaru Natsuki! Not only am I totally clueless, but I'm also broke beyond compare! Nice to meet ya!" / "My name is Subaru Natsuki, son of Kenichi Natsuki! I can do anything, and I will do anything! 'Cause your son's just that awesome!" this is The quote of all time fr.

"Take care." :,))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) not directly from subaru but like We All Know the significance of this quote + its easy to write down ;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

"Tell me your name." / "I want you to tell me what your name is." this is from @eiese who is fucking hilarious so like. this is the quote for when subaru asks for emilias name at the end of arc 1 right? so just. imagine this quote... next to chiplock's signature... HAH....

"Let's start from zero!" not a quote thats always said by subaru of course across the many rezero media but it is just So Iconic :,)))) <333

"I will always believe in you." / "Believe in you." so simple but so real <3

"No matter how silly it is, you can talk about tomorrow because you have a tomorrow."

"As long as I have life, all I can do is fight with all my might."

"You are demonically inspired!" not necessarily a subaru line but it is similarly subaru related and iconic imo <3

"Choose me." :,)))))))))

"If bringing happiness to other people is one of the main reasons you wanna work so hard, then let your number one help you." <3

"Emilia - I am your knight. Yours and yours alone."

"Who says dunderhead these days?" a silly one but <3

"What happens in the beginning or middle isn't what matters. It's the end that counts." said by naoko and said again by subaru ;-;;;;;;

anyway thats all the quotes i came up with alsdjfl if i come up with more before your con ill reblog this pfft. i hope these helped or at least gave you ideas!! have a good time at your con once again :o

[aureatchi]

hello, reverie. i am truly sorry to bother you. i saw your reblog about your selfships, and i adore the concepts. if you would be so kind, i would like to ask if you have any recommendations for books or movies that would match the 'academia' vibe you provided, and of course, if you could give me some. thank you.

please forgive me if my english is unnatural and forced, for it is not my first language. 🐇

nonnie !! my lovely don’t ever apologize, you’re not bothering me at all !! :< i’m sorry i’ve let my asks pile up sm this week, i’ve seen a few others signed by you & i promise i will get to them soon (i’m honestly js cherishing them to myself rn hehe bcz i love getting fedya asks & you’ve indulged me sm 🥹; i promise i’ll release them soon !!)

but anyways THANK YOU SM FOR ASKING :’) i’m so in love w/ this ask omg. honestly i swear there’s something out there tht could fit our exact dynamic perfectly but i’ll have to do more searching (& reading; unfortunately school’s haven’t given me time to read things for fun these past couple of years :< but once i can balance out my classes this year i’ll def get into the habit again (˘ ˘ ˘) !!) js for you nonnie i’ll come back & reblog this post when i’ve found more in this genre i could relate to w/ updates ᰔ

& btw if anyone else thinks of anything tht could relate pls pls tell me, i’d totally check it out <3

but WHAT I HAVE SO FAR !! the secret history & if we were villains ofc; ik they’re so popular but the first is rly the blueprint for the ‘dark academia vibe’ imo 🥹. & let me talk abt the second…

if we were villains is abt a group of theatre kids who study about shakespeare. (LOL is this already typical of me?) they are all close friends (altho they acc all have complex feelings abt each other) but one tragic night results in a murder of one of them. the book is basically about how all of it came to be. there’s this one line that goes “do you blame shakespeare for any of it?” & the main character replies “i blame him for all of it.” i was rly inspired by how the theme of shakespeare was incorporated into the story & how it caused such tragedy (even though shakespeare wasn’t an actual character; even alive, etc.) therefore, i took inspiration from it to add to the fyozai academia universe, where our demise is ofc…the fyozai chess game tht asagiri also uses as a metaphor in bsd !! & it’s both literal & a theme — the three of us all literally play chess, & it’s also used as a metaphor for MY three-way manipulation mind game… 🙂‍↕️ hehe.

also i feel like fyodor is so henry winter from the secret history. but anyways ik these are only two, so i promise i’ll come back w/ more recs for you !! (esp since it’s almost autumn) they’re both supa similar — TSH is basically the same plot as IWWV except they study greek/latin instead of shakespeare, but i enjoyed both of them.

your english is perfect, btw. :)

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 118]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53

Going to work for a bit on this. Come join me!

Because I still don’t have my tags, I will be tagging all of these with only #tag later. All tags you can read in the edited parts above apply.

Chapter 54 (Patton) 

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance. 

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed. 

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.” 

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say. 

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor. 

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked. 

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider. 

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted. 

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked. 

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.” 

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.” 

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward. 

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said. 

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said. 

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked. 

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?” 

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.” 

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.” 

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone. 

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton. 

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.” 

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.” 

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed. 

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.” 

Well, that was fair. 

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy. 

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?” 

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.” 

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.” 

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer. 

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.” 

Patton bit his lip. 

“What?” Logan asked. 

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked. 

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.” 

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now. 

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.” 

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough. 

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded. 

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella. 

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now. 

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife. 

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride. 

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close). 

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly. 

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him. 

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked. 

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again. 

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown. 

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied. 

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.” 

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied. 

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone. 

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said. 

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument. 

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.” 

“Why?” 

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.” 

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked. 

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.” 

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.” 

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested. 

“What are the cliffs?” 

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.” 

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?” 

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently. 

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment. 

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated. 

“Great,” the king said. “I’ll” make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.” 

Chapter 55 (Logan) 

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself. 

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world. 

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning. 

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book. 

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed. 

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron. 

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now. 

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment. 

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked. 

“What?” Logan asked. 

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?” 

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said. 

“For what?” 

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.” 

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said. 

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.” 

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think coriander would work for something like that. Let me go find some.” 

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals. 

“Can we use a serrated knife?” 

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.” 

“That was certainly my intentions,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning to him and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the coriander. 

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked. 

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than coriander, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it a lot simpler if it works.” 

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant. 

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well. 

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make. 

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.” 

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.” 

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked. 

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked. 

“We can’t,” Virgil said. 

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.” 

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.” 

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.” 

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said. 

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown. 

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.” 

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea. 

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well. 

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.” 

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already disappeared before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead. 

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch. 

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care. 

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife. 

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon. 

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.” 

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.” 

Logan narrowed his eyes at him. 

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.” 

“I would not have,” Logan insisted. 

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked. 

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said. 

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.” 

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.” 

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms. 

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle. 

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked. 

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife. 

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked. 

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said. 

“So just start stabbing things?” 

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about. 

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire. 

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished. 

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed. 

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said. 

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan. 

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in flames instantly. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife. 

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well. 

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped. 

The armor stand at that very moment decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well. 

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide. 

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!” 

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.) 

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous. 

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that. 

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked. 

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities. 

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?” 

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said. 

“What experiment?” the king asked. 

“…I don’t wish to say.” 

“Logan.” 

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.” 

“A what?” 

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.” 

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back. 

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan. 

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?” 

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said. 

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked. 

“We borrowed it,” Logan said. 

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?” 

“…Well.” 

“In the intended manner.” 

“No.” 

“Then you stole it.” 

Logan just frowned and looked away. 

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.” 

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room. 

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.” 

“I could steal it back from him.” 

“N-no don’t do that.” 

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said. 

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.” 

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it. 

Chapter 56 (Thomas) 

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again. 

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again. 

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months. 

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members. 

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well. 

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now. 

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile. 

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.” 

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?” 

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.” 

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs. 

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them. 

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy. 

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total. 

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all. 

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile. 

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime. 

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him. 

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat. 

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats. 

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy. 

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well. 

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights. 

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie. 

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle. 

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle. 

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.” 

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.” 

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to. 

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed. 

“She’s a Princess.” 

“She is not a princess!” 

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument. 

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.” 

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.” 

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings. 

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child. 

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand. 

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly. 

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously. 

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was. 

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.” 

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclinded to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stabels. 

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in sadles, though the stabel hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest. 

[adonis-koo]

Do you want a bigger fandom or do you like it, how it it’s right now ( I think you deserve more recognition because wicked and your other stories are so gooooooddddd )

Feels weird to refer to my readers as a fandom lol, truthfully I don’t think having more readers will fix the issue, I already have almost nine thousand followers, I’ve been on this app for probably five or six years now so naturally people have probably come and gone from my reading, some people only support certain fics etc. And I have no issues with this! Read what piques your interest on my blog and if it’s only one fic that’s totally fine!!

But overall I don’t really want more followers in this sense because I don’t think it’ll fix anything. An example is Wicked gets about seven hundred notes per chapter, about six hundred and twenty of those are likes and I’ll get maybe fifty reblogs and roughly ten to fifteen comments on the actual post (WHICH I just found out I’m now able to reply with THIS blog rather then my main account which is a total game changer with giving even more interaction with readers)

On a regular chapter though I could average about twenty to even thirty asks, mixed between users and anon’s, last chapter interaction had to be prompted; I only received two asks the whole day and a half and only after posting about the lack of engagement did I received an average amount of engagement.

This update for wicked has had a sharp drop off in likes at only close to four hundred, maybe thirty reblogs and probably 5 to 10 comments, however my asks were once again very dry, I only received two asks within the first three days of updating (it usually only takes 24 hours for asks to start rolling in).

Generally engagement will generate more engagement, that’s just how it works. But no engagement = no engagement 🤷‍♀️

I’m not trying to actively complain, I experienced this heavily with tease once i got close to chapter 20, so it’s not an unfamiliar concept to me. People want long fic’s but I’ve found that if it extends past fourteen to fifteen chapters, people begin to get bored and drop off, that’s what’s happened with wicked I suppose.

Anytime I feel discouraged I remember an old tumblr post that talks about imagining all the people who have read your fic being in a room with you, 400 people is overwhelming to imagine being in a room with me! But it doesn’t change that I sit here a lot of days and think about the people who only drop a like.

It’s like saying; your fic is really good, it made me feel all the feelings, I loved to consume it and I’m now onto the next. It’s good!!! but it’s not that good; it’s good but it’s not good enough for me to click twice to reblog it; it’s good; but it’s not good enough for me to bother writing you an ask or dropping a comment, it’s good; you want engagement? okay I’ll just write ‘part 2???’ or how about ‘update pls!!’

I’m not really talking about anything new, this has been an ongoing issue in writing for an unfortunately very long time; even my biggest fic Sate just hit 5 thousand notes! I had enough engagement with the fic that I considered it a personal success but when you look at the statistics of it, it’s kinda messed up that it had to take five thousand people just for six hundred to reblog it and only twenty three people to drop a comment.

Anyways I didn’t mean to ramble about this, I guess it’s just been on my mind as I wonder about what direction I take this blog and if I want to keep writing, to answer your question; I don’t really put much stock into my following because it evidently doesn’t really count towards what I write, I’ll always be flattered when people chose to support by following but it’s not a number I put a lot of value in

[whatthisfemsheplikes]

GUESS WHO’S BACK

I HAVE AWOKEN FROM MY *checks calendar* TWO YEAR SLUMBER! MAY THE G/T ANGST RAIN DOWN UPON THIS PAGE ONCE MORE!

In all seriousness though, hi! I’ve got some news!

I don’t know if anyone will still remember this, but I used to have a sideblog a few years ago where I posted my g/t story called See Me. Unfortunately, I decided to delete that sideblog for a number of reasons, but eventually I came back to my main and said I’d put See Me somewhere else, potentially on AO3. Right after I said that, I asked for an invitation to AO3, did a little bit of waiting and then... totally forgot about it.

What can I say? We were in the heat of Covid times, my mental health was at an ATL, I was moving, and lots of other adult stuff happened. Since then, I just felt kind of bad about returning to this page with no new content of my own to put out. I used to write a lot and enjoy it, but lots of stuff in my life has been going on the past two years that hasn’t really motivated me to do any writing or creating of any kind. I know that I could still be liking and reblogging stuff, but coming back here just made me miss what I used to create, so I stopped for a little while. 

BUT NOT FOR LONG! While it may not sound great, through a lot of self-reflection and therapy, I’ve kind of discovered that nowadays, I turn to g/t content when I’m going through a hard time. And, not gonna lie, I’m DEEP in the trenches from fucked up life events right now, so naturally, I found myself back on tumblr to connect with the g/t community again. But not on this page. That’s right! I made a new page and I’ve been LURKIN’ out here! And no, I will not reveal what that page is, but feel free to tell me if you think you’ve figured it out and I’ll be more than happy to tell you if that page is me or not. 

Anyway, since I’ve been lurking and consuming as much g/t content as I can get my hands on, I’ve also gone back to my own archives and read through See Me about a billion more times. Not only did I polish it up a lot while keeping everything pretty much the same (mostly fixing spelling and grammar) but I also just told myself “you know what, I still really like this story.” And reading so many other amazing stories from other g/t writers on here really inspired me to finally get out there and put See Me back into the universe, while also writing a few new stories and AUs in the process that will hopefully see the light of day at some point. 

ALL OF THAT TO SAY... I did it. See Me is finally up on AO3 right now! At least, MOST of it is. I really had to take a hard look at my word doc and think “why did I do this to myself” when I counted 39 chapters with almost 400 pages that I wanted to reread, edit again, and possibly add some polish on, chapter by chapter before putting it on AO3. As of writing this, I started uploading chapters last night and am currently done uploading chapter 19. So... about halfway done! I’m still going to keep uploading as I had the time to do so (I do have work tomorrow so... not as much time as the weekend but I’m going to post more) and eventually all 39 chapters will be available just as you remember them (or are reading for the first time if you never got to read See Me before). 

I’ll also be uploading any of the prompt stories and other short stories I made to AO3, and any prompts that I get and write here in the future will be available there as well. Like I said, I have some new ideas too, some AUs and some completely new universes with new OCs that have also been sitting in my hard drive since I first started writing g/t stuff years ago. I’m hoping to keep up this motivation and to eventually write and put out those stories on AO3 too, so stick around for that if you’re interested! 

To anyone that is still following this page and has maybe even been waiting for See Me to come back, thank you for your patience and support. I hope you still enjoy what I put out there, and I hope to keep up this motivation to create, even after things hopefully get better in my personal life. 

As a little aside, some of the big motivators in my comeback, even though they wouldn’t know it, are @not-a-space-alien with their story Watch Your Step, @marydublinauthor and @bittykimmy13 with all their wonderful Shot In The Dark and Print/Trinket stories (please go buy their books, they are absolutely amazing), and @ratcatcher0325​ with their stories A Fraction of Justice and Nobody’s Fool. I know that these tags might come out of nowhere for all of you, as I don’t think I’ve interacted with any of you personally on this account, but your stories inspire me so much that it really pushed me to put my work back out there again, especially if my work could make someone as happy as all your stories make me. So thank you! I look forward to reading all that you create in the future! And in case you’re thinking “but you only just started following me today/recently,” well, like I said, I’ve been lurking on another account, so I’m sure you might’ve seen me there and just not known it. Anyway, keep up the amazing work, and everyone else please go read their stuff! It’s awesome and full of g/t goodness!

Well, I think that’s everything I had to say. I’m going to try and be more active on here and not just update about my AO3, because I don’t think that would be very fun. I’ll still get on here and like and reblog things that I like so feel free to stick around and interact. And if you want to interact with my work, please visit my AO3 page right here, or search for whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3! I’d love to see you there! Here’s to the future and I hope you all have some happy holidays coming up!

- Mo-Mo

TLDR; Life sucks but I’ve posted See Me, my g/t story, on AO3 so it’s back on the internet. You can read that and anything else I write on my page right here, or find me under the same username whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3! 

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain: Chapter 10

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Vedis narrowed her eyes at Thorin. Twice within one day, Thorin had tried to paint Bilbo in a poor light. She crossed her arms. Next to her, Oreliell had also become tense at Thorin’s comment.

“Thorin,” she said in a slightly warning tone.

Thorin looked at them, eyes also narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly-

“No, he isn’t.”

Everyone turned quickly to find Bilbo standing above them. The company gasped at the sight of him. The hobbit offered a smile. He looked a little scrapped up, but in no worse condition than anyone else.

“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf said. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”

Vedis glanced at Thorin. He was trying to appear stoic, but she could read the shock in his eyes at Bilbo’s appearance. She couldn’t help but feel proud that Bilbo had just proven Thorin wrong.

“Bilbo,” Kili said with a grin. “We’d given you up!”

“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili asked.

“How, indeed,” Dwalin muttered.

Bilbo chuckled nervously and shifted from side to side.

“Well, what does it matter?” Gandalf said. “He’s back.”

“It matters,” Thorin said. He looked at Bilbo. “Why did you come back?”

“Look, I know you doubt me,” Bilbo said. “I know you always have. And you’re right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. That’s why I came back. Cause you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.”

Vedis smiled, glancing at Oreliell before looking at her feet. She couldn’t agree more with Bilbo. What he said, everything he said, they could relate to. It was part of why they roamed Middle-Earth. Yes, they didn’t quite have a home either, but they could relate to both Bilbo and the dwarves. 

Suddenly, a deep growling caught her ear. Vedis lifted her head and scanned the woods. She sensed Oreliell stiffen beside her.

“Do you hear that?” she asked her sister.

Oreliell nodded slightly as they tried to determine what the noise was, and where it was coming from.

“[Run them down!]” Vedis’ eyes widened. Black speech. “[Tear them to pieces!]”

Howls suddenly filled the air.

“Orc pack,” Oreliell said.

“Out of the frying pan,” Thorin said.

“And into the fire,” Gandalf finished. “Run. Run!”

The company took off down the hill once more. Vedis urged the others in front of her, training her eyes on the mountain above them. Through the trees, she was able to make out the pack. Behind the main pack, was a familiar figure.

The pale orc. Azog.

Vedis pulled out her sword, twirled it briefly before slicing through a warg’s front legs. The creature yelped as it collapsed, growling then at the sight of her. She quickly killed it before racing after the others.

The dwarves held their own against the wargs that came too close, swiftly killing them before they could do any harm. Even Bilbo managed to kill one, though he appeared frozen in shock.

“Up into the trees!” Gandalf cried. “All of you! Come on, climb!”

If they weren’t being hunted by an orc pack, the sight would almost be amusing. The dwarves lifted themselves up with an almost expert speed, climbing to heights that the wargs would not be able to reach. Those who were struggling a little more received boosts from Oreliell and the other dwarves. Vedis remained on the ground, killing any wargs that got too close while they got to safety.

She saw Bilbo struggling to pull his sword from a warg’s skull. She wished she was able to call out to him, to tell him to hurry up. He finally pulled his sword free and ran to Vedis, who lifted him into the nearest tree before following. 

A moment later, wargs were swarming the base of the trees, barking wildly and jumping, trying to catch any piece of the company that they could. Vedis glared down at the creatures, their foul smell reaching her nose. With a look toward Bilbo, she urged him a little higher.

The wargs seemed to settle for a moment, simply circling and turning their gaze toward their leader.

“Azog,” Thorin gasped.

“[Do you smell it?]” Azog said, taking a deep breath. “[The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.]”

Vedis looked at Thorin. She could easily read the pain in his eyes.

“It cannot be.”

“[That one is mine.]” Azog pointed his horrible looking club at Thorin. “[Kill the others!]”

The pack launched forward. They jumped higher than before. Their jaws snapped and their claws ripped branches off the trees. Their bodies collided with the trees so hard that they shook. The company cried out in fear, trying to push themselves higher out of reach. Vedis tried to use her sword when she could, but there was too great of a risk of hitting someone.

Suddenly, the base of one of the trees gave way. The weight of the wargs caused it to begin to tip.

“Jump!”

Vedis grabbed Bilbo’s arm and helped him into the next tree. But that was only the beginning. The other trees began to fall, one right into the next. The company was forced to jump from tree to tree to avoid being eaten. Some dwarves barely managed the jump before having to make the next.

Vedis breathed deeply once the trees stopped moving. Only one was left standing, right at the edge of the cliffside. She adjusted her grip on the branches, making room for others around her to secure themselves. At the base, the wargs continued to jump, trying to make their tree fall like the others had.

Just then, a flaming pine cone flew to the ground, catching fire to the dead grass and branches. Vedis looked up, seeing Gandalf lighting pine cones on fire. He passed them down to the other dwarves, who quickly followed his lead. They launched their new weapons at the wargs, forcing them back. Vedis took a cone from Bifur and threw it, smirking when it hit a warg and caught its fur on fire.

The dwarves cheered as the wargs retreated behind the wall of fire that had been made. But the victory was short lived. Their tree finally began to tip back. Vedis grabbed on to the branch, looking around quickly for her sister. Oreliell was a little higher up, one arm around Oin to keep him in place. Vedis looked down. The roots were barely holding onto the earth. Above her, she could hear the dwarves struggling to hold on.

A boot suddenly hit the trunk next to her. Vedis’ eyes widened when she saw that they belonged to Thorin. His blade was drawn and he was stalking his way down the trunk.

Amada nogoth, Vedis thought. He is going to get himself killed.

Thorin started into a run, his sword lifted up and an oaken shield in front of him. Even from her place on the tree, Vedis could see the satisfaction on Azog’s face. The pale orc urged his warg forward, knocking Thorin down heavily. Thorin pushed himself back up while Azog lazily circled him. Just as Thorin got to his feet, Azog swung his mace and knocked Thorin back to the ground.

She watched as the white warg clamped its jaw around Thorin’s body, causing him to cry out in pain. Dwalin shouted for his friend, but nearly fell off the tree trying to get to him. Bilbo suddenly rose to his feet amongst the cries of the company. Vedis looked at the hobbit in shock as he pulled out his sword. The hobbit then took off toward Thorin, who had again been thrown, and was able to be killed.

“Vedis! What’s happening?” Oreliell called.

“Thorin is going to lose this fight and Bilbo is trying to save him.”

She pulled herself to her feet, balancing on the tree. She heard Oreliell doing the same, but felt someone hit her leg. Vedis glanced down at Dwalin.

“Help me up, lass,” he growled, eyes darting to Thorin. “Quickly!”

Vedis grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Behind them, Fili and Kili were doing the same. The group shared a brief look of understanding. They each broke into a run, their weapons drawn. The wargs were stalking toward Bilbo, who was protecting Thorin.

At the last moment, they let out war cries, hacking into the nearest creature. The wargs quickly turned their attention to their attackers. Vedis lept off the nearest rock to cut off an orc’s head. Without its rider, the warg was another easy kill. 

“Bilbo!” Oreliell shouted.

Vedis turned quickly, seeing the hobbit get thrown to the ground. She was suddenly pushed to the ground by a warg, but rolled to get back to her feet.

A piercing screech suddenly filled the air, causing everyone to pause as giant eagles swooped in. They grabbed wargs in their talons and threw them over the cliff. Others knocked down trees or used their wings to direct the fire toward the pack. The rest were helping pull the dwarves from the fight.

With the new distraction, Vedis killed the warg before her and joined her sister’s side. They watched as an eagle gently lifted Thorin’s body off the ground and carried him to safety. Azog roared at the eagles as another appeared a moment later to take Bilbo away.

The orc looked around, enraged that his prey was being taken away from him. His eyes eventually landed on the elves, who had their swords ready for an orc that dared come close. Azog narrowed his eyes at them, but they returned the look with hard stares.

“[Hunters,]” he growled, his grip tightening on his mace.

“Vedis! Oreliell!” Kili shouted as he and Fili were picked up. “Let’s go!”

One last eagle was approaching from the side, dipping just slightly out of view. The sisters sheathed their swords and ran for the cliff. With a quick glance at one another, they jumped, landing on the great eagle’s back. The eagle flapped its wings, soaring high into the air to catch up with the other eagles and the rest of the company. 

Once they were close enough, Vedis did a quick count and sighed in relief. Everyone was accounted for. She let herself relax into the eagle’s back.

“Thorin!”

She glanced up at Fili’s shout. At the front of the group was the eagle carrying Thorin, but he was still unconscious.

“I can’t tell what state he’s in,” Oreliell said. “Can you?”

Vedis shook her head. She had been distracted by the fight to truly check on him other than help protect his body. And at their distance now, it was difficult to tell. 

The eagles flew as the sun came up, passing over the Misty Mountains and vast forests. The trip itself was peaceful, though everyone was anxious over the state of their leader.

Eventually, the eagles came upon a large rock structure, the top shaped like a bear. Vedis recognized the Carrock from their previous journeys.

The eagle carrying Thorin approached first, gently depositing him on the rock. Gandalf was the next to land and hurried to the dwarf king. One by one, the eagles made their way around to drop the company off. As Oreliell and Vedis dismounted their eagle, they saw the dwarves helping Thorin to his feet. They couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the sight.

“You!” he suddenly said, shrugging the helping hands away. His voice sounded angry as he looked at Bilbo. Vedis almost immediately started glaring at the back of Thorin’s head. “What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!” He stalked toward Bilbo. “Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?”

Oreliell crossed her arms, but neither woman made a move forward. There was something in the way Thorin’s voice changed as he continued to speak that made them pause.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.” Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo. The dwarves cheered, finally able to relax. Vedis exchanged smiles with her sister at the sight of Bilbo’s shocked, yet happy expression. “But I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo said. “I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

The company chuckled. The eagles finally made their departure with one last screech. Most of the company turned to watch them leave, taking in the great beasts in the morning light.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Bilbo’s words caused everyone to turn again, this time looking in the opposite direction they had come from. The company walked further up the Carrock to get a better view of the horizon. In the far distance, a singular mountain could be seen.

“Erebor,” Gandalf said. “The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-Earth.”

“Our home,” Thorin breathed.

“A raven!” Oin said, pointing at a bird that flew past them. “The birds are returning to the mountain.

“That is a thrush, dear Oin,” Oreliell said.

“But we’ll take it as a sign,” Thorin replied. “A good omen.”

“You’re right,” Bilbo said. “I do believe the worst is behind us.”

[archiveikemen]

Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Chapter 10

Premium Avatar Challenge

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary

Yasuchika-san blinked in surprise when I shoved him towards a nearby tree stump.

Yasuchika: Wow, you’re surprisingly pushy.

Yuno: … One thing I’ve learnt is that it’s okay to treat you like this.

After staring at me with a dumbfounded look for a while… Yasuchika-san smiled.

Yasuchika: — Of course.

I finished helping him with a simple bandaging of his finger after a while, and my racing heart finally calmed down.

Yasuchika: Thanks. I owe you one.

Yuno: It’s fine… I only did it because I wanted to.

(Although…)

(The reason why Yasuchika-san went feral during the battle was because he was shown an illusion of Akihito.)

Yuno: Yasuchika-san… can I ask you something about Akihito-sama?

Yasuchika: The thing just now still bothering you?

Yuno: … Honestly, yes.

Yasuchika: I see. I mean, you’ve already seen it all, so there's no need for me to hide it from you anymore.

After a brief moment of silence, Yasuchika-san spoke.

Yasuchika: The scene you saw just now? That was exactly how Akihito-sama and I first met.

Yasuchika: When I was a child, I received ‘special training’ from the Abe Clan.

Yasuchika: Then I sensed a mysterious presence of a spirit in the mansion.

Yuno: And that spirit was Akihito-sama…?

Yasuchika: That's right. Back then, I was the only person who could see Akihito-sama.

(But isn't Akihito-sama a living person? I’m pretty sure I saw him the other day.)

Yasuchika: You noticed? The Akihito-sama you saw in that illusion and the real Akihito-sama look identical.

Yuno: Y-yes. So I’m curious… who exactly is Akihito-sama?

Yasuchika: He was once an ordinary human being, his body sealed away by the Abe Clan.

Yuno: Sealed away? What do you mean…

Yasuchika: Whatever I’m about to say to you… please don't tell anyone.

Yasuchika: Not even the people from the Shogunate.

Yuno: … I won’t.

Yasuchika: I can’t really tell you much details, but his body constitution is unique.

Yasuchika: Before his birth, he was cursed to be born a stillborn. However, he miraculously survived and was thus brought into this world alive.

(So that’s the kind of past Akihito-sama had…)

An image of Akihito-sama’s otherworldly beauty and elegance appeared in my mind.

Yasuchika: But many things happened… Akihito-sama was never happy for a day in his life from ever since he was born.

Yasuchika: He was unloved, cast aside, and betrayed.

Yuno: Goodness…

Yasuchika: He had always suppressed the curse that was bound to his soul by sheer willpower, but…

Yasuchika: As Akihito-sama's tolerance for his pain and suffering reached its limit, the curse went loose and killed everyone around him.

Yuno: …!

Yasuchika: From what I’ve been told, every single Onmyōji had to get involved to deal with the situation.

Yasuchika: They couldn't say for sure what would happen to the curse if they killed Akihito-sama, that's why they ended up sealing him away even though he was a human being.

Yuno: Then… what about the Akihito-sama you saw?

Yasuchika: He was a living spirit. His physical body had been asleep and hidden away deep inside the Abe Clan’s mansion.

Yasuchika: Due to the effects of the spell that was used to seal him away, his body never aged.

Yasuchika: But he was a special kind of living spirit. I was the only person who could see him, because I’m someone from the Abe Clan who was born with that gift.

(He has to possess an extreme amount of hate for another person, to turn into a living spirit.)

Yuno: … That's how deep the wounds Akihito-sama's pain and suffering caused him are.

Yasuchika: Correct. As time went by, the seal was eventually weakened. He started roaming around the mansion as a living spirit without his memories.

= Flashback Start =

Yasuchika: No one enjoys being a living spirit.

Yasuchika: They don’t curse people because they want to.

= Flashback End =

I thought of Yasuchika-san's words after our encounter with that female living spirit.

(He was also talking about Akihito-sama.)

Yuno: But… Akihito-sama appears to be an ordinary man now.

Yasuchika: There was an incident… it caused him to regain his memories and control over his physical body.

(An incident?)

Yasuchika-san’s facial expression was cold, but I could sense that he was fuming.

But that look disappeared from his face almost immediately…

Yasuchika: But that’s another story.

(I’m sure there's a lot more to it, but I know I won’t be hearing anything about it tonight.)

Yasuchika: Anyway, Akihito-sama has been by my side ever since I was a little boy and was like a guiding light for me.

Yuno: A guiding light…

== Flashback Start ==

Akihito: If you’re not a human being, you wouldn't be so warm, right?

Little Boy: But I…

Akihito: If you ever feel lost… I’ll be your guide for as long as you live in this mansion.

Little Boy: Akihito-san?

Akihito: Onmyōji use their power to exorcize curses. That makes it one of the kindest powers in the world.

Akihito: Always remember to be a kind person, Yasuchika.

== Flashback End ==

Yuno: .. “Be a kind person”.

Yasuchika: That's right. He also told me to make use of my powers to help the weak, never give in to greed, and always seek self-improvement.

Yuno: … Akihito-sama was your safe person, wasn't he?

(As a living spirit, Akihito-sama taught the little boy we saw in the illusion about human warmth.)

Yasuchika: He was my everything.

There was not an ounce of insincerity in Yasuchika-san's answer.

Yasuchika: An Onmyōji’s job is more bloody and selfish than people think.

Yasuchika: I can’t truly be the “kind person” Akihito-sama told me to be.

Yasuchika: The most I can do is hold onto my childhood memories and pretend to be kind by doing random acts of kindness on a whim.

Yasuchika: That’s the kind of man I am.

(Pretend…)

(If I’m not mistaken, he said something similar after he saved that young woman who turned into a living spirit.)

His self-deprecating words made my heart ache.

I reflexively reached out to gently hold Yasuchika-san's hand, careful not to touch his injured finger.

Yasuchika: — Yuno-san?

Yuno: You’re so warm. Just like Akihito-sama said.

Yasuchika: …

Yuno: If you keep up your act, then perhaps one day, your pretense will become a reality.

Yasuchika: … You’ve only just met me.

I flinched a little when I heard those words.

Yuno: If I’m going to always be afraid of being wrong, then I’ll never be able to believe in anyone or anything.

Yuno: I want to believe that your hands are warm ones that have saved the lives of many.

Yuno: That’s why, from this moment on, I want you to take extra good care of these hands.

(Please don’t throw away a part of yourself so easily.)

Yasuchika-san gulped.

Yasuchika: …

His eyes with an unreadable look in them slowly approached me…

(Ah…)

Yasuchika-san’s lips lightly pecked my forehead.

Yasuchika: You’re the warm one.

My heart was racing and my body was burning hot.

Yasuchika: Here I was thinking I’m being careful enough.

Yasuchika: How... how did you find your way into my heart?

Yuno: Yasuchika-san…

Yasuchika-san lifted his right hand and touched my hair that had turned silver.

I held my breath as he casually combed my disheveled hair.

Yasuchika: You must be feeling so worn out.

Yuno: Uhm…

I took a few falls while dodging the ayakashi’s attacks, so my kimono was completely ruined.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and tried to shrink away…

Yasuchika: I have no idea why, but you look so gorgeous right now.

Hearing his words that were as sweet as honey while looking into his dark eyes made me gulp nervously.

(Why are you making that face?)

Yuno: Um… is it because my hair and eyes resemble Tamamo’s?

Yasuchika: … Is that so?

Yasuchika: — Nah.

Yasuchika-san took another look at me and shook his head.

Yasuchika: Same color scheme, yes. But you look nothing like Tamamo.

Yuno: I- I see.

(Tamamo is so much more beautiful.)

Yasuchika: The golden color of your eyes is mellow, like the morning sun.

Yuno: Um…

(What am I supposed to say here…)

Yuno: T-thank you.

Yasuchika-san grinned when he saw how red my cheeks had gotten.

Yasuchika: Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?

Yasuchika: You lent me your assistance just now.

(I think I was being protected more than I could be of any help.)

I had a gut feeling that something had changed that night in the relationship between me and Yasuchika-san…

I hoped that the cool night breeze would help cool my burning skin off quickly.

[maguayans]

AYE’S YEAR OF WRITING ‘22

Hi, hello! How have you been? I hope the season’s treating you well. It’s that time of the year again—to see how I ruled as a writer this year. (It’s already 2023, though. Happy New Year!)

GENERAL WORD COUNT: Forty-one thousand eight hundred plus words—pops confetti—across eleven stories! That’s not a lot compared to what I’ve written last year, but I’m pretty proud of it, especially because almost half of it was written within thirty days—thanks, Camp Nano.

If you happen to stumble upon my posts, you may know some of them: Lethal Bloods, Mariang Makiling, Red Complex, Crimson, Fair Waters, Maharlika, All in Favor, Say Aye, Red Cuts, Where the Poet Went to Die, Don’t Fall Asleep, and Tres.

Yeah…I don’t think jumping from one WIP to another is good…for me. But it’s fun!

WORKS IN PROGRESS: In addition to drafting the stories listed above, a few ideas came up and made it to my list of projects. It seems like I’d never run out of stories to write and talk about.

New WIP #1: Human x Deities — Once in a while the deities would come down from their heavenly, divine realm to visit the mundane (like tourists.) When they do, a human would accompany them (like a tourist guide). The story features the gods of Philippine Mythology, soulmates and reincarnations (I’m a huge sucker for it), shamans and glowing tattoos.

New WIP #2: Flea Market Isekai — MC enters a flea market at the wrong time and finds herself in the same market with a different crowd. The story features the wonderful creatures of Philippine Mythology.

There are also four new short stories. *eye emojis*

WORLDBUILDING: Maybe I didn’t surpass my word count last year because I was too immersed in ✨worldbuilding✨.

Tres. Following the decision to change the titles and revise the origins of the characters I immediately went to Tres’s worldbuilding — an island far, far away; isolated from the main population (which could mean a lot of things, but most importantly overlooked crimes, gore, and everything in between.) The island, San Angel, is modest and gorgeous, but like a multicolored amphibian in a rainforest, it is deadly. Lovely flowers grow by the earthen roads, and underneath lies the remains of those buried without tombstones.

Red Complex. The red strings universe is expanding. In addition to a novella called Red Cuts, there’s a short story collection featuring characters from the mundane and the Matchmaker’s realm.

The Morose Cat. There’s a mini worldbuilding series I call, The Uphill Town, introducing a town up the hill (where the story takes place) and what makes it so different…and magical. For one, there’s an abandoned shrine that cats always pass through, and where the veil between the mundane and the otherworldly fades.

Elementaliaverse. There are so many things I added recently to the project and the stories. Mainly: Mystique Heights, Fair Waters, and Maharlika.

Worldbuilding, my beloved.

WRITEBLR. I can confidently say I interacted with the community more in 2022, and it was so much fun! Hopefully, I could do the same and more this 2023, and participate in more writeblr events/activities. Speaking of which, here are two: 30 Days, 30 Lines Challenge (by blind-the-winds), and Trick or Treat Writeblr Halloween Event (by pluttskutt). Thank you so much for these!

BOOKS & READING. I read less than ten books, and I enjoyed them. I am open to random book recommendations in my inbox/messages. I'll continue reading reviews/posts about books—how I discovered The Great Library series. (A writeblr posted about how much they enjoyed reading the books, so I bought copies. They were on the third book then, If I remember correctly, and I wanted to reblog the post but I forget their handle.)

Crier’s War Duology, Nina Varela

House of Hollow, Krystal Sutherland

The Great Library (1-4), Rachel Caine

Intersections, B. Pigeon; Fell Marsh

MISCELLANEOUS/PERSONAL. We went on a trip for Christmas, and the funniest, most writer thing I did was buy a stick (an arnis stick, the vendor told me, though it seemed different), thinking it would help me write one of my WIPs. It was affordable, so I guess it was fine. ( A little Christmas gift for me, I told myself. But I did buy more than a stick from a gift shop. *laughs hysterically*)

INITIAL PLANS FOR 2023. Read at least twenty-five (25) books. // Finish at least one (1) draft. // Share two (2) short stories. 

I think...I’m going to be busy.

Thank you so much for reading! Enjoy the rest of the season. Stay warm and safe. Let’s hope 2023 will be kind and gentle. Cheers to more writing and reading and writeblr-ing!

If you have time, visit #ayearofwriting to see how other writers owned 2022!

[nyotasaimiri]

Remembering How To Write

Y’all already saw me reblog that one post about the StimuWrite program (twice), but I’ve been having some fun thoughts about it (and introspective discoveries) so it’s time for a bit of a ramble!

If you want to check it out personally, I’ve linked it above, or you can click this link if things break. You never know with Tumblr.

https://eveharms.itch.io/stimuwrite

Also, for courtesy’s sake, I’m going to put a “read more” here so the average dash-scroller doesn’t have to suffer the full long post. But please pass it along! This is a story about learning to work with a different brain, and accommodating myself. I hope it helps you, too.

So part of the reason I’ve been so excited about getting to work again is my misconception that I can only write when I’m “supposed to be doing something else”. Like my actual job, or schoolwork, for example. The vast majority of As Long as We Remember was written during my last year in undergrad, in the margins of my class notes (or sometimes as my class notes, with the actual note-taking happening in the margins). I’d also tuck myself away in a corner in the Student Union between classes and either play Starbound for more screencaps, or type a scene based on those screenaps. Some of you have been here long enough to remember: the days when I could bang out 700-1000 word scenes three times a week. It was glorious, the words never stopped. 

Come summer or winter break, every year, my brain dried up. That was transcription time, when I’d assemble all the handwritten stuff. But I could never really get a solid idea rolling when I was home. They tended to hit when I was out on walks (rarely) or driving somewhere (pretty common), to the point that I started carrying a voice recorder with me at all times because there’s nothing worse than having a brilliant idea or poem smack you when you’re on the interstate and you can’t pull over to scribble it down.

So it went for years, and I’d get some writing done when I was supposed to be editing, because the old ADHD likes nothing more than procrastinating from something that makes me nervous. And let’s be real, there’s nothing more nerve-wracking than sending your work off to an editor, even (or especially) a really good editor. Loving shout-out to both my editor and my main contact at Fantastic Books Publishing, you’ve all heard me sing the praises but they really did a wonderful job taming the anxiety beast. Anyway, it was alright. That’s where Arc Two happened mostly, though the burnout was biting already. I’d get writing done during the rare in-person class too, while working on that Master’s.

Then my job got automated. 

Now this wasn’t awful from a practical standpoint. I was able to devote myself to the degree more fully, and I would have needed to leave at some point anyway to do the teaching practicals (this is something we really need to fix, requiring teachers to do unpaid practical internships, but that’s a side rant for another day). But though I did have a fantastic month as school librarian for summer school, it wasn’t enough. Once that dried up, I sank into a routine of being at home, doing homework, rinse and repeat.

You might notice the lack of writing in this situation. Because writing became painful around this time. It wasn’t depression, or anxiety... Heck, my book got published then! I was over the moon for that! 

But I still couldn’t write like I used to, and I was so scared that I’d somehow used it all up, that I would lose it if I didn’t use it. Or that I’d somehow sold it to public approval, when comments started drying up... something like that. Fear is rarely nice enough to put it into words. I was able to figure out enough to listen to music or an ASMR video in the background sometimes and get words out that way, but... Yeah. You saw things dry up too. You know how it went.

It’s worth noting that until two months ago, I lived for 17 years in a quiet suburban neighborhood where there aren’t any young kids playing outside anymore (we all grew up). No major sound, almost no traffic.

In June, I finally moved out of my parents’ house and into a lovely little condo of my very own. We’re in the middle of everything here. It’s actually walkable, there’s traffic sounds, there’s construction, there’s even a train once or twice a day. I hear my neighbors coming and going by the bang and rattle of the heavy steel-and-glass door downstairs.

And I’ve been writing again. I’ve been drawing again. It’s slow still, because I’m so busy. New kitten to look after, older cat to tend, household to set in order (who knew how many things we take for granted at our parents’ houses, like buckets and dustpans). New job starting next week.

At some point in all this newness and activity, I saw that post about StimuWrite, and it reminded me that I wanted, I needed to create again. So... I pulled up an old story I started long before I ever heard of Starbound or dreamed of publishing, opened the app, and gave it a try. And it bloomed.

Characters I haven’t touched in years are back and alive under my hands. And I’m alive with them. It’s magic, but the kind of magic I can make happen, not the kind I have to wish and wait for. I can understand now, where it all comes from.

I think this is something people don’t realize, when handling neurodivergence. I’m both ADHD and autistic, so I don’t know if it’s one, the other, or both causing my problems. But in the silence and stillness, it was too quiet to think. My brain was somehow too loud for itself, in that silence. I wonder how many other creators suffered this, in the sudden stillness of lockdown, or when they’re isolated in other ways. How many stories are stifled by silence.

I didn’t grow up with my diagnoses, partially because my parents didn’t know better and partially because the stigma was too huge to test me back then. So I barely know about things like stimming. We didn’t have that word when I was growing up. But I’m so, so glad that there are creators out there who understand ourselves well enough to make apps like StimuWrite, and share them so that we realize we aren’t alone in this. Because even if I did somehow stumble into my magic on my own again, finding another noisy classroom to write in, I wouldn’t have understood why, and I would have stayed afraid of losing it.

My words and worlds are part of me, just as the little quirks are. And my community, those with disabilities like mine, they gave that to me. I’m not afraid anymore. I think that’s the core of what I’m trying to say here: that we need to speak with each other, to share what helps and what hurts. Someone, somewhere, needs to feel what you have felt. Community is the single best thing we have.

I wanted to share this courage, this story, in hopes that I can help someone else out of their fears too. Maybe your brain works at least a little like mine: too loud in the silence. Try a little noise. Find something soft or crinkly or nice to touch while you work. Rest, and don’t punish yourself for not making. There will always be ways to get your magic back. It’s part of you, too.