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voidpumpkin · 2 years

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A Guide For New Users Fleeing From Twitter, From A User Who Needed One When They First Started:

Hi to everyone fleeing from twitter, Elon Musk is shit and he already has had an actively harmful effect on the site, one that will only get worse. So, welcome to Tumblr, it can be kind of intimidating, given its reputation and how many different features there are, I was certainly confused and intimidated when I first logged on and as I'm active on both I sympathise with y’all, so here’s a guide to anyone new:

Put your hashtags in the hashtag section. This is the only way they’ll actually have any sort of effect, or appear when you search for something. Don’t post them on the post itself.

There is a character limit for hashtags and a quite high hashtag limit. Go wild. Writing entire speeches is common.

Don’t tag lots of unrelated stuff to your posts, that’ll get you reported for Spam and just hated in general

Don’t censor words, users are fine with swearing, doing so especially with triggering content makes it hard for people to limit their exposure to said triggering content.

There’s no such thing as ratioing.

We don’t have quote retweeting, every reblog, comment, etc counts to op’s post. They can see it all, and will be notified depending on their notification settings.

Change your icon, people will think you’re a bot if you use the default.

Give yourself a bio, it’ll make you look like a person.

Follow people and tags, that’s the only way you’re gonna see the content you wanna see. The foryoupage isn’t to be trusted.

Actually reblog stuff, liking has no effect, reblogging is the only important thing here as there is no like based algorithm. Doing so will also make you appear human.

You can hide your likes and who you’re following. Doing so is not frowned upon in the slightest.

You can block tags, similarly to muting words on twitter.

You can have multiple blogs tied to one account.

You can customise your blog, go wild.

There is no word limit, you can write as you want. But if it gets too long make use of the keep reading feature, (the three dots beside the add gif feature)

There is an image limit of thirty, up from the former ten, though for some they may be stuck at only using ten, tumblr is kinda inconsistent. If you want to add more you’ll have to reblog your own post.

There is no reblogging limit when it comes to a post, though there is a daily posting limit, go wild, only your followers will be upset.

You can have videos, gifs and pictures in the same post.

You can just post audio.

Adult content is still banned, but actual moderation and enforcement is spotty, especially if it’s written.

Spam liking and reblogging isn’t a thing. Go wild.

You have an ask box that people can submit stuff to. You can respond or just delete the post. You can remove anon capability from it (which will get rid of most of the hate), or outright bar it.

You can’t private your account but you can restrict commenting and reblogging. Edit: I’ve been informed that you can in fact make your blog password protected, it’s just that it’s a rarely done thing and not widely known.

Block whoever and whenever, it’s not a big deal. Though if someone you’ve blocked has reblogged and added to a post and someone you follow reblogs that, their commentary will still be included in the post you see.

We don’t have muting, only blocking.

Yes, direct messaging is a thing (it’s the little smiley face)

The only way to promote your is through ‘tumblr blaze’, you pay a certain amount of money and your post will be promoted, but not targeted, so no invasions of privacy. You are subject to the employee’s whims on whether or not it gets promoted and unfortunately hate speech has been allowed.

Tumblr has tendency to hide/consume comments, posts and asks, don’t be surprised if they go missing.

Tumblr searching a blog relies on tags, words in the post and the users name, keep that in mind.

Posts will remain after you delete your account or the original post if they have been reblogged.

Years old posts are still circulating and that is considered normal.

You can queue up posts to be released when you’re not using your account. Or you can just post whenever you’re active. Go wild.

Wizards exist and are very popular on this site. Accept it.

There are posts with no notes that will never gain any more than a sing note for your like. Accept it.

There are posts will no op. Accept it.

Trans and autistic people dominate this site.

Don’t get pissy when someone tags a post ‘tw (insert slur)’, or any trigger warning for that matter, most are just being considerate of their followers who may be triggered by such content.

Twitter discourse is regularly mocked, it’s not gonna fly here.

No, we don’t call each other oomfs, or anything like that. We just have mutuals.

Tumblr in general lacks a lot colloquialisms that began on twitter.

We do have ‘blorbo’ ‘poor little meow meow’ etc.

Trying to go viral or trying to corporate is frowned upon.

Tumblr has a tendency to blacklist things tagged like ‘crowdfunding’ so bring that kind of logic you use for twitter posts over to tumblr.

We don’t have twitter circles, co-posting, etc.

Tumblr is surprisingly good at recommending blogs.

There are no verified accounts, and your follower count isn't visible. This is a good thing, trying to change it will get you laughed at.

People are going to just make up stuff, don’t believe everything you see and if it’s a claim about someone, investigate it rather than just believe it.

You can edit your posts after you’ve posted them, but the versions reblogged before said changes will still circulate. This editing of the original has been used as a spruce of comedy

If your worried about people seeing your potentially triggering, or even graphic content and they haven’t blocked the tags you’ve used you can use the keeping reading feature to put the content under the cut and post a warning at the top.

And this is quite important:

Stay anonymous and have fun. There isn’t an expectation to constantly expose inner details of your life, you aren’t expected to use your real face, your real name, age, etc. You’re not even expected to be truthful here. Exist however you wanna exist and have fun, that should be the point of social media.

Also keep in mind that tumblr has its own distinct culture that is going to take some getting used to. As well as a history any user who’s been here a while will at least somewhat understand.

Also I'll be editing the post with additional info and corrections provided to me.

#twitter #tumblr #social media #Elon musk #giude #psa #hellsite #edited to correct some stuff #hellsite tag #edited again to add stuff and correct some information

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wolfythewitch · 8 months

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Hi, audio book anon again

I was going to start listening to the illiad and I had found a good unabridged version (shout out to the people in the comments of my original ask)

But after reading the reviews I found several people complaining it wasn't the full version because the trojan horse and achilles death weren't in it

So I looked it up and google says those things just aren't in the illiad at all and are in the aeneid

But I wanted to double check with you and other greek mythology enjoyers on tumblr, because I trust you more then google

Also follow up question should I listen to the aeneid before or after the odyssey ?

Iliad first, and then Odyssey, and then the Aeneid. Technically The Odyssey and the Aeneid can be switched because they both follow different main characters, but the Aeneid Does reference the Odyssey a little bit. And yeah! The Trojan horse is in the Odyssey and Aeneid mainly, the iliad mostly details like a small bit of the war. I'm not sure which poem mentions Achilles's death explicitly, but you do meet his ghost in the Odyssey and there are depictions of it in antiquity

#wolfy tedtalks #anon

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leewonkyeom · 4 months

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035: i know i’m giving zero context but bear with me

light a flame [35/51]

previous | masterlist | next

☆ summary: when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university.

your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?

☆ a/n: i originally put "love is embarrassing" by olivia rodrigo in the bonus, bc i thought it was hilarious if wonwoo listened to her when he was sad. but that was before i saw the lyrics to as i told you and i just knew it was perfect😭

also lmao👀 the feedback for on the last chapter was definitely mixed, but i have tried to warn you guys😭 i literally like writing angst sm more than fluff😭 i'm writing this for my own entertainment lmao and i just happened to decide to post it on tumblr as well🤷‍♀️ so self-sabotaging, co-dependent y/n it is😭 if y'all trust me to solve this as well, it's all good lmao😌 i promise y'all a happy ending.

merry christmas to those of you who celebrate!! and as always, i hope you enjoyed this part, and i always appreciate likes, comments and reblogs!♡

fill out this form to be added to the taglist!

bonus:

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #wonwoo au #seventeen #wonwoo smau #wonwoo svt scenarios #wonwoo #seventeen au #seventeen smau #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff

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scoonsalicious · 18 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, anxiety.

Word Count: 570

Previously On...: You met with the head of Galvin & Associate's, your PR firm, to make sure a statement went out refuting any relationship between you and Steve Rogers. Also, why the fuck isn't Bucky calling you back?!

A/N: SUPRISE THIRD DROP!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You managed to keep down some saltine crackers and a bowl of chicken broth Sam had prepared for you for lunch, though it was difficult not to gag, what with all the sass he was giving you about the headlines. You were feeling a little less tired, now that you had some nourishment in your system, but you still found yourself lying in bed, listlessly checking your phone over and over again for a new message or call from Bucky that never came.

Lisa Galvin had been true to her word, at least; you began receiving Google Alerts linking to your statement. Of course, they weren’t getting as much traffic as the original articles had, but you were relieved to know that the truth of the matter was finally out there, and you could breathe easier for it.

You sent a link to your statement to Bucky, hoping that would entice him to answer you, but were only met with continued silence. You were becoming increasingly agitated by his lack of communication. Yes, you were worried about his safety, but as much as you were loath to admit it, Carthage was with him, and two super soldiers working together was a challenge even the more elite terrorist organizations would have difficulty taking on.

But then again, he was with Carthage. What if he had seen the headlines and believed them? What if he— no. You weren’t going to let yourself go down that path. He had been so dedicated over the last two months, working to prove he was worthy of your trust, cutting her out completely. He wouldn’t – couldn’t– betray you like that. He knew it would destroy you, destroy any chance the two of you had to make your relationship work. You had to trust him. That was the entire point of your separation. Rebuilding trust, and you had to believe in him.

You had to.

With a sigh, you put your phone back on its charger, battery already well depleted from all the web browsing and non-Bucky texting you’d done so far today. Maybe you would take a nap. While you were feeling a little better, you didn’t want to risk a repeat of last night, where you couldn’t even stand on your own without assistance, so you figured a little extra rest would do you some good. Besides, maybe you’d wake up and Bucky would have contacted you, and you could finally stop fretting over the entire thing.

Yes, a nap sounded excellent right now.

You woke up, a few hours later with a start. You’d had a nightmare. You couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, just that it had been about Bucky, and it left your heart aching. Rubbing your eyes and trying to shake the feeling of pain from your heart, you checked your phone again. Still nothing, but it was quickly approaching the designated time for him to call you– his “proof of life” communication that had become a standard, every day tradition when one of you was away. Surely, he’d contact you soon. So, you waited.

And waited. And waited. Then you waited some more.

Two and a half hours after the predetermined call time, you’d had enough. You could feel your stomach practically eating itself alive with anxiety, on top of the nausea you were already experiencing, and there was only one person who had the answers you were looking for.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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copperbadge · 9 months

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Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via [email protected]. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

#tumblr #social media

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sgiandubh · 4 months

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This what I mean 👇🏻

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505943900484/

Dear (returning) Bitchy Anon,

I wrote this answer yesterday, but I am posting it today, because I did not want to give you any satisfaction. Your coming back in here proves there is not an ounce of humanity left in you: just a #silly obsession for an actress who does not even know or care you exist. I promise you she doesn't. Confidently so.

But then, onwards to your 'evidence'.

You thought you would give me the creeps on Christmas Day with a controversial picture allegedly taken at the Weinstein (yes, that Weinstein!) and Netflix Golden Globes afterparty, on January 8, 2017?

No, seriously now: you actually did?

Crikey. As we say in Romanian (and yes, it is very rude, but also dementedly funny): mi se umple fundul de lacrimi/my arse is in tears. Perhaps the equivalent of I don't give a flying fuck, btw.

If you did read me before posting your laughable shite, and I think you did, you should know by now how I usually work, at least for those things I choose to make public (the rest is none of your business, I am afraid). You found this pic on Pinterest, originating from a Tumblr blog: @clairebeauchampfan. Since this person started blogging one year later than the moment this picture was taken, she probably found it chez Contemplating Outlander. You know, that pseudo-social scientist-cum-shrink, who thinks people are machines and adds a shitload of footnotes to her rantings, because she truly believes it makes her biased crap more credible (it doesn't, and this comes from an academic researcher: it is legit pathetic). So Claire Beauchamp Fan shared it and forgive me, but I did not bother finding her post, I just looked for her source (*urv's fetish):

This took me to CO's really nasty blog and you could have spared me that ordeal, Anon: it's literally akin to severe constipation. And then, onwards to Instagram:

A further search revealed she was wearing a Romanian designer (Maria Lucia Hohan) dress and Amrapali earrings. And then, I read the comments on that Insta post. Maybe you'd read them too, they are enlightening - for someone who's 'been around since 2015', people are rather confused about his real status in her life, don't you think?

But Internet is really forever, no matter how you try to hide your trash, Anon. Here is a copy of O'Callaghan's post which was, indeed, deleted: maybe *urv was too insistent? It wouldn't surprise me:

She should have won the Golden Globe in 2017, that's true. And it was S, not McIdiot, the one who told the Internet she should have won all those prizes, if memory serves. How odd McIdiot is never mentioned in that particular post (y'all would have paraded it for YEARS, if it were so) - but household staff, no matter how promoted, never really is. And before you screech, tell all the damn truth Anon, and put this pic in its right context:

How odd the 'successful music producer and entrepreneur' (he is not successful, nor a music producer and much less an entrepreneur) was not tagged, by someone who is active in the industry, who clearly knows C and who attended that Golden Globes gala!

Just a last word on that pic. C was obviously smiling and talking animatedly with O'Callaghan and then McIdiot (who looks malnourished - but hey, humble beginnings, eh?) got dragged in the middle, for the convenient pic. I sometimes wonder what kind of social life you people have and sadly, I have to say - next to 0, for some of you. I never fuck the dozens of men with whom I do have similar 'just because' pics, interrupting my conversation in the middle of an event.

Also, check this very warm & fuzzy pic with one prominent member of her own, personal and very, very gay Circle of Trust. Because I am sorry, but what straight man wears lipstick, as McIdiot clearly does (and no, it's not because they were smooching in the lavatories, what are you, 14?):

She looks happy, doesn't she?

I mean: really, honey. Get a Real Life and stop trying to persuade me with ye olde Pinterest pics you clearly are completely clueless about, ok?

And before you open your mouth to vomit CO's trash again, please carefully do your homework about McIdiot. But as carefully as I did. Then you can talk, share your interesting findings. Merry Christmas and....

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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kingofbodyrolls · 9 days

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

🐴Chapter summary: Taehyung tries his best to fit in on the ranch, and you and Jimin visit a second hand shop to get decor for your rebuilt ranch. But something happens on the way home that will alter your future together.

🐴Chapter title: Love of Your Life

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

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

🐴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: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex, nipple play, spanking, dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, praise kink, marking, biting, back scratching, hair pulling, crying, rain, like a loooot of rain (yes this is a warning and you will understand later), melancholy, happy tears, promises and confessions.

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 13.3k

🐴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 💿 “All I See” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: welcome to sunshine and rainbows!!!!! Finally! All the angst is gone, and it’s time to bask in all the love and glory ☀️ This was so fun for me to write, I’ve honestly been excited to write this chapter FOR MONTHS. So I’m so happy with it, I love it 😭 I really hope you do too— please let me know 💜

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 (Sunday) →

“Your touch is softAnd it makes me trembleIn your armsIt feels so right” ‘Trust the Night’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You gently straddle Jimin’s slumbering figure, leaning close to his ear as you murmur softly, “Jimin, my love, wake up.”

You hear him emit a soft groan beneath you, prompting you to press your needy core against his crotch, causing a shiver to run down his spine as a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

As he gradually emerges from his slumber, his expression carries a drowsy allure, a mix of exhaustion and irresistible charm. His tousled blonde locks frame his face in disarray, accentuating his soft, almost angelic features. With a gentle flutter, his eyelashes part, revealing the depth of his sleepy gaze, stirring a whirlwind of butterflies within your stomach.

He shifts beneath you, your thighs snugly framing his sturdy body, and he grumbles softly, his voice laced with the remnants of sleep. “What’s wrong, love?” He drawls, his words slow and husky, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

His teeth graze his lower lip, a subtle gesture that sends a surge of desire coursing through you as you feel his dick harden against your folds. You rock against him, craving the delicious friction, and a low groan escapes his lips. Though he’s still tired and not fully awake, his body instinctively responds to your rhythm, his arousal evident despite his drowsiness.

“I want you babe, so bad,” you murmur huskily into his ear, your breath hot against his skin. He chuckles in response, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands.

With a playful smirk, he finally opens his eyes fully, the warmth in them sending shivers down your spine. His hands wander to the curve of your hips, drawing you closer as he teases, “Needy, huh?” His grip tightens, pulling you into him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

His playful tone dances in the air as he teases, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You’re not wearing panties?” He asks, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. His gaze drifts lower, down to where your pussy grinds over him, and he grins knowingly. “And you’re already dripping. Did you have a wet dream?” He adds with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow, his voice laced with playful temptation.

You grind down on him again, your voice is high, almost airy and incredibly needy, “I did.” You confess as you drag out the words in the rhythm of your movements as you drag your slick pussy over him, his dick teasing your folds. Each friction sends electric pulses through your body, leaving you yearning for more of him, oh God, you’ll never get enough of his dick.

“Then help yourself,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he intertwines his fingers behind his head, accentuating the grace of his muscular frame. Your eyes roam hungrily over his form, captivated by the effortless allure he exudes. With a soft, inviting smile, he reclines on the bed, the epitome of relaxed confidence, beckoning you closer with an inviting gesture. Caught in the magnetic pull of his gaze, you hesitate for a moment, questioning him with wide eyes.

You’re so needy, the lust coursing through your veins like a tidal wave— the memory of your dream, where he took you from behind with your face shoved down into the sheets has left you dripping. With a needy whimper, you realize that he’s serious. He really wants you to just do everything yourself and simply take him like that. Somehow that thought alone makes you even wetter, and you finally begin to move your body, just a bit off him, so you can grab his boxers and slide them down his powerful thighs.

With a throaty chuckle, he watches as you rid him of the garment, tossing it aside with theatrical flair. His laughter fills the room, a symphony of desire harmonizing with your own as you sweep the duvet aside, to make more space for you.

You straddle him once more, a low moan escaping your lips as his unclothed dick comes in contact with your slippery pussy, sending electric tingles through your body. The sensation alone is intoxicating, but you crave more, yearning for the fullness only he can provide. You want all of him lodged deep inside you. Fuck. With a suppressed curse, you bite down on your lip, gradually lifting your body, aligning your throbbing pussy with his dick.

You grab his cock, lowering yourself onto him with tantalizing slowness, a gasp escaping your lips as he stretches you deliciously wide. Each inch of him sliding inside sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through your veins. You love this feeling, being filled like this by him— you can never get enough of it. With each deliberate movement, you moan softly, relishing every moment, wanting to etch it into memory. As you finally cast your gaze upon him, his expression is a portrait of pure bliss, his features sculpted by pleasure. His lips part in silent rapture, his eyes, though almost closed, fixated on you, drinking in every detail, every nuance of your body.

You finally meet his skin at the base, your bodies melding in a primal embrace, taking in every inch of his girthy cock. “Jimin,” you exhale, the name a reverent whisper as you rest your hands upon his chest, seeking stability amidst the whirlwind of sensation. For a heartbeat, you simply remain still, savoring the electric lust between you, and you catch the playful glint in his eyes, a knowing smirk dancing upon his lips.

“You wanted to fuck me, then get to work love and show me what you’ve got,” he teases, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of mischief. He reclines leisurely, every line of his body exuding anticipation, silently urging you to take the lead and unleash your passion upon him.

You groan deeply, a surge of arousal flooding through your core, as you slowly lift your hips and then lower them again, each movement accompanied by a fervent moan. The sensation of him filling you so completely ignites an inferno of pleasure within your depths, leaving you intoxicated with desire.

You establish a deliberate rhythm, each movement a tantalizing dance upon his incredible dick. Jimin’s unwavering gaze follows your every motion, and though you’ve shared such intimate moments countless times, the intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, igniting a blush that spreads like wildfire across your skin. Maybe it’s the raw vulnerability of this position or the newfound sense of empowerment that leaves you feeling exposed, but as you surrender to the ecstasy and lust, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Fuck, babe, you look absolutely stunning riding me like this,” he pants, his voice thick with desire. His hands, which had been idly resting behind his head, suddenly find purchase on your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh with a satisfying slap. “And the way you’re taking me, fuck, it’s like you were made for this,” he groans, his arousal evident in every word.

“Get that shirt off,” he commands, his voice low and urgent, the desire evident in his tone. “I need to see those gorgeous tits of yours.” His hands grip the hem of your nightshirt, which is actually one of his, and he pulls it upward with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine. You’ve taken to wearing his shirts to bed, finding comfort in their familiar scent, a constant reminder of him even when right next to you.

You comply eagerly, crossing your arms and grasping the fabric of the shirt tightly. With a swift motion, you peel it off your body, revealing your breasts, their gentle sway drawing Jimin’s gaze like a magnet. His hands tighten on your ass, his touch electric against your skin as he hungrily takes in the sight before him, a hunger burning in his eyes.

Your hair cascades around your face like a veil as you continue to ride him at a leisurely pace, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, each one laced with anticipation. Despite the blissful sensation washing over you, a primal urge begins to stir within, urging you to quicken your pace, to chase that elusive peak of ecstasy that awaits you.

With a surge of desire coursing through you, you amplify the rhythm of your movements, grinding your hips against his throbbing dick. Yet, despite the primal intensity of the moment, Jimin’s hands rest on your hips without guiding or directing you; you’re in complete control.

God you love this— you enjoy being in control like this, but you equally love it when he just rams himself into you uncontrollably, or when his touch is slow and tender. Fuck, you love it all. It’s the entirety of his essence, the fierce intensity, the tender intimacy, that leaves you utterly enraptured.

You continue to ride him with fervor, each bounce driving you deeper onto his dick until you can feel the delicious pressure of his balls against your ass.

Every sensation is heightened, every movement sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. You arch your back, seeking the perfect angle to hit your g-spot, and when you finally find it, it’s like fireworks exploding behind your eyelids, your entire body alight with the ecstasy of his touch.

As you pant for air and moan, the exertion of maintaining the pace begins to take its toll. You gradually slow down, but compensate by riding him deeper, each thrust driving his cock to graze your sensitive spot with even more intensity.

Your fingers tremble on his chest, a silent plea for him to reciprocate the intensity coursing through your body. Biting your bottom lip, you observe his nonchalant expression, seemingly unaffected by the passionate dance unfolding between you. Despite the beads of sweat forming on your brow, there’s not a drop to be seen on his honey-kissed skin. Exhaustion begins to creep in, weighing heavy on your limbs, but driven by the mounting arousal coiling in the pit of your stomach, you press on. You’re on a relentless mission to chase down your orgasm, every movement calculated to edge you closer to that elusive climax.

“Are you close, love?” He teases, his voice laced with playful anticipation, punctuated by a chuckle that dances through the air like a mischievous melody.

You nod eagerly, your breath hitching as you admit, “I am. But I need you,” each word punctuated by the rhythm of your body moving sinuously up and down his throbbing dick.

He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m not doing anything or helping you,” he quips, his teasing tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“But I need you. I need your hands on my boobs,” you plead, your voice tinged with desperation as you teeter on the brink of release— you just need that little thing to push you over the edge. “Please,” you implore, leaning into him, your boobs pressing against his chest. “Just touch my tits, please.”

You observe him closely, noting the flicker of conflict in his eyes as he wrestles with the decision. His brow furrows in silent contemplation, betraying the inner turmoil he’s experiencing. You recognize that familiar crease of indecision on his forehead, a telltale sign that he’s grappling with his resolve. You know all too well that he always has a hard time saying no to you, his resistance crumbling under the weight of your persuasive plea.

With a decisive grunt, his hands abandon their hold on your hips, embarking on a tantalizing journey toward your awaiting breasts. His touch ignites a fiery anticipation within you, each caress a promise of impending ecstasy. “Fine,” he concedes with a playful lilt in his voice, “I’ll help you.”

As his fingers encircle your taut nipples, a wave of intense pleasure courses through you, eliciting a passionate cry of his name. “Thank you,” you exclaim with a breathless fervor, gratitude and desire intertwining in your voice.

You ride him with fervent abandon, as he skillfully toys with your breasts, his fingers teasing and tantalizing your hardened peaks. Each tug and caress sends electric currents of arousal pulsating through your entire being.

“Shit, Jimin,” you gasp, your voice strained with lust, feeling the tension within you building to its breaking point. Despite the exhaustion and the trembling in your thighs, you refuse to relent, driven by an insatiable desire to reach the peak of pleasure. “I’m coming,” you moan, the words escaping in a fervent declaration of impending release. As the wave of orgasm crashes over you, your body tenses, and you feel every muscle contract around his throbbing dick, your essence flooding over him in a torrent of blissful surrender, painting his cock with your essence that trails all the way down to his balls.

His fingers tighten around your breasts, eliciting a shiver of pleasure as he watches you unravel in ecstasy. “Fuck, you’re stunning when you come,” he breathes, his voice laced with awe and desire, his eyes tracing every quiver and tremble of your body as you succumb to the overwhelming waves of pleasure.

You collapse against him, feeling his dick still pulsing within you, aching for release. With exhaustion clouding your senses, you gaze down at him, your voice soft and pleading. “Jimin, can you... take over and fuck me?” you ask, your words a gentle plea. “I want you to finish too, but I’m... so tired. My thighs... They are so sore.”

He chuckles, a knowing gleam in his eyes that tells you he anticipated this moment. His hands, familiar and possessive, return to your ass, and with a swift motion, he delivers a playful spank, reigniting the flames of arousal coursing through your veins.

“Can’t fuck yourself on me anymore?” He teases, his voice laced with desire, as you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“I want to, but my thighs,” you plead with him, your touch grazing over his chest, tracing the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

With a sudden fluidity, he wraps his arms around your back, effortlessly flipping you both around, leaving you wide-eyed as you find yourself beneath him, him over you, his dick still nestled inside your pussy. His face hovers above yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he presses down, his warm breath brushing against your skin. “You want me to finish what you started?” He murmurs, his voice laced with desire and mischief.

His voice drips with a potent mix of danger and desire, its weight hanging heavy in the air, sending tantalizing shivers cascading down your spine.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, you’re begging for it?” He taunts once more, his voice laden with desire as he presses his dick deeper inside you. Fuck, you just want him to move, for him to fuck you so good.

Your desperation mounts, compelling you to plead with him once more, your voice raw with need as he remains motionless within you. “Jimin, please,” you implore, your urgency palpable, “I need you to fuck me, now. Please.”

With a primal hunger, he descends upon your neck, his kisses igniting a fire within you, his bite both painful and intoxicating, but he soothes it with his breath. As he moves upward, his breath hot against your ear, he whispers, “Oh, I’ll fuck you until you can’t think straight, love. So you can finally rest those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

As he finally starts to move within you, every thrust feels like a divine revelation. You can’t help but moan at the sheer ecstasy coursing through your body, each sensation more intoxicating than the last. Damn, it’s beyond good.

He establishes a rhythm that’s slow yet intense, each thrust penetrating you so deep it’s enough to ignite fireworks in your mind.

“Yes, Jimin, right there!” You cry out, his precise thrusts hitting you in all the perfect spots, his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of sensations that electrify your entire being. You can feel your pussy tightening with each movement, his bites sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You just know he’s leaving marks on your skin again, but fuck, you both love that.

“You just love my cock so much, you can never get enough of it?” He bends down and whispers in your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine, so much so that you can feel how all the hairs over your body raise in anticipation. You moan in pleasure, as your hands travel to his back, where your nails dig into his honey-kissed skin.

“Yes,” you moan, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through you, “I love your cock, can’t get enough of it, or you.” Your words are punctuated by the exquisite sensations of his deep and slow thrusts, making you feel so close to another orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs huskily, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, “can’t get enough of you or your pussy either.” His lips find solace on your neck once more, teasingly nibbling and sucking on your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensations within you.

And then it hits you like a tidal wave, that electrifying surge as the coil inside you snaps and your entire being is engulfed in the ecstasy of another orgasm. Your pussy clenches frantically around his dick, milking him with every pulsating wave of pleasure. You’re lost in a symphony of moans and pants, his relentless thrusts fueling the fire as he continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, amplifying the sensation to unimaginable heights.

“Fuck,” you moan, every syllable a testament to the whirlwind of lust swirling within you, enveloping you in a delicious haze of pleasure. In this moment, you feel utterly consumed, every fiber of your being vibrating with a primal satisfaction, as if you couldn't possibly contain all the desire coursing through your veins.

Jimin leans up, his gaze a fiery fusion of love and raw desire, igniting an inferno of longing within you. With a tender yet commanding touch, he lifts one of your legs, cradling it against his body, before repeating the motion with the other, each movement deliberate and intoxicating. As he leans closer down to you, you feel how sore your thighs really are, as he stretches them out for you in the process, and then, he quickens his pace, fucking you faster than before.

You’re swept away in a whirlwind of sensation, barely able to catch your breath as he relentlessly drives you to the brink and beyond. With each thrust, he propels you further into the depths of ecstasy, seamlessly transitioning from one climax to the next, until you’re consumed by a tidal wave of pleasure, threatening to wash over you.

Jimin’s primal groans fill the air, mixing with the rhythmic symphony of skin on skin as he drives into you with unrestrained intensity. His face, a canvas of raw pleasure, tells a story of desire as he relentlessly pounds into you. With each thrust, the bed creaks beneath you, and your hands grips the sheets tightly as you surrender to the lust running through your veins.

You sense his impending release in the ferocity of his thrusts, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your own climax builds, a tidal wave of pleasure gathering strength with each movement. The intensity of the moment ignites a fire within you, burning hotter and more fiercely than ever before.

Every fiber of your being is ablaze with ecstasy as you lock eyes with Jimin, his hazel eyes a mesmerizing blend of desire and devotion. With ragged breaths, you confess, “Fuck, Jimin. I’m gonna come again.”

As beads of sweat finally cascade down his glistening body, a few droplets find their way onto your chest, trickling sensually between your breasts. His demeanor, a mix of intensity and restraint, is nothing short of sinful. His brows knit together, lips caught between his teeth, and as he inches closer to the brink of ecstasy his nose begins to scrunch, and you find yourself captivated by his raw, primal allure. It’s a sight you relish, a testament to the intoxicating power he holds over you.

His voice, ragged and urgent, cuts through the air like a primal plea. “Fuck, yeah, come again, before me, babe,” he urges, the words tumbling from his lips in a breathless rush. You can sense the urgency in his tone, a desperate need for release that mirrors your own. He’s held back his own climax for what feels like an eternity, and now, he’s almost there.

As he thrusts deeply into your pulsating pussy, you surrender to another wave of pleasure, your essence surging around him like a wild, untamed force. The world around you blurs as your senses are consumed by ecstasy, your vision dimming at the edges— you feel so gone. With a shuddering sigh, you close your eyes, savoring every electrifying sensation of him buried deep within you.

“Fuck, love,” he pants, his fingers digging into your thighs as he plunges deeper, his rhythm slowing as he approaches his climax. With bated breath, you watch his expression intensify, his eyes fluttering shut, his nose scrunching in that adorable way you love. A guttural moan escapes his parted lips, your name a whispered mantra on his tongue. The sight of his release nearly overwhelms you, a surge of desire igniting within you, tempting you to join him in another orgasm.

He fills you up with his warm seed, his movements still gentle yet purposeful, blending your fluids together in a passionate fusion. You’re certain most of it trickles out, staining the sheets below, but at this moment, neither of you gives it a second thought. The sheets can be washed later anyway.

He gasps for precious air, his fingers threading through his tousled locks, his lip caught between his teeth in a display of post-climax bliss. As his gaze meets yours, you see the raw emotion there, an unspoken language of love that binds you together, stronger than ever before.

“Good morning, my love,” he murmurs, releasing your legs to slide gently down the sides of his body. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss to your lips, igniting a warmth that spreads from your mouth to your fingertips.

You thread your fingers through his tousled hair, playfully tugging at the strands, and as you release, you meet his gaze with a tender smile. “Good morning,” you whisper, your voice carrying the warmth of a new day and the promise of endless affection.

He settles his weight atop you, his presence a comforting weight against your skin, and you revel in the sensation of his warmth enveloping you. Despite the softening of his dick inside you, you relish the intimacy, content to stay intertwined in each other’s embrace for what feels like an eternity. Time seems to melt away in the blissful haze of the moment, where nothing else matters except the connection between your bodies.

“We really should get up,” Jimin chuckles as he reluctantly lifts himself from your body. You emit a groan of protest, the thought of spending the entire day wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms, fucking each other the whole day is tempting you to stay in bed indefinitely.

He withdraws from you, and you can sense the trickle of liquid escaping your pussy, coursing down your ass and staining the sheets beneath you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up,” Jimin assures you, swiftly donning his boxers before darting downstairs to the bathroom, his footsteps echoing in the silent house.

He returns with a handful of washcloths, his presence comforting as he approaches your side. Gently, he parts your legs with his hands, his touch igniting a delicate warmth that courses through your body. As he presses the warm washcloth to your sensitive pussy, a shiver dances up your spine, eliciting soft mewls of pleasure. With careful precision, he begins to cleanse away the remnants of your passion, his attentive ministrations a soothing balm to your senses.

He descends eagerly, his lips tracing a path along your inner thigh as the warm washcloth glides over your sensitive flesh. A surge of anticipation courses through you, the proximity of his tantalizing lips to your core igniting a primal desire deep within. With each tender kiss, you can feel the intensity building, another wave of ecstasy threatening to consume you as his dangerous lips draw nearer to your pussy.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to contain the electric tremors racing through your body. There’s an inexplicable tension, an ache building deep within you at the mere sensation of his lips caressing your thighs. With every delicate kiss, it’s as if fireworks explode beneath your skin, igniting a fierce yearning that threatens to consume you whole. Your breath quickens, anticipation mounting as your pussy tightens in desperate anticipation. Yet, he deliberately avoids your most sensitive spot, his lips trailing to the other thigh, bestowing the same tender devotion with each fleeting touch.

Fuck. Could you come with just those tender kisses on your thighs and the damn washcloth teasing your core?

Oh god, you’re craving his touch on your pussy— it’s insane. Yearning for that final release, because it’s right there, tantalizingly close, and you’re already so worked up, knowing it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

“Jimin,” you groan, urgency lacing your voice as you grab his hair, pulling him towards your throbbing pussy, and pressing his face down into your quivering folds.

“Make me come again,” you pant and plead, your voice trembling with an insatiable hunger for release.

He doesn’t need to be told twice; you feel the warmth of his tongue on your folds, savoring every lingering drop of your essence. Then, he ascends towards your clit, sucking on it with fervor, causing you to arch your back and lose yourself in the sensation. Your head falls back into the sheets, your body writhing with ecstasy as you grind your hips into his eager mouth.

Your fingers grip his hair tighter, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, and your voice forms a rhythmic chant of his name, interspersed with moans that echo through the room. Every sensation heightens, your body tingling with anticipation, toes curling involuntarily as you teeter on the edge of euphoria.

His teeth graze your sensitive nub, sending electric waves of pleasure through your body, and as he sucks on it, you feel yourself unraveling, like putty in his hands. A flood of your essence pours out, your body convulsing with ecstasy, fingers clenching in his hair as you cry out his name. Your hips buck uncontrollably as you reach the peak, and he expertly licks up every drop of your essence.

He keeps sucking until you’re dry, until every last drop of your essence is consumed, leaving only the lingering traces of his saliva glistening on your skin.

You tug on his hair, urging him up to your face. Flustered and panting for air, you’re consumed by the desire to kiss him. Pulling him close, you press your lips against his, a passionate exchange that tastes of your essence mingled with his, a heady blend you don’t mind.

As you part for air, you draw him into a warm embrace, molding his body against yours. Soft giggles escape Jimin’s lips, his affectionate words filling the air, “I love waking up like this, you know,” his voice brimming with adoration.

Taehyung stands out like a vibrant splash of color against the rustic backdrop of the ranch, but he’s determined to blend in as seamlessly as possible.

Jimin and Jungkook reluctantly agree to let him stay in one of the smaller guest houses, swayed by Taehyung’s persistent desire to reconnect with his brothers and catch up on lost time. However, a shadow of doubt looms over Jimin’s mind, a residue of skepticism lingering from the Deiji debacle. Despite Taehyung's assurances, Jimin remains cautious, his trust not easily earned after the betrayal he’s endured. Yet, Taehyung’s unwavering determination and the solid proof he provides gradually chip away at Jimin’s reservations, paving the way for a tentative reconciliation.

However, you can’t deny that tensions are running high, especially with Bell Ranch overflowing with people while your own ranch is still under reconstruction—though it’s nearing completion. It’s a bittersweet anticipation, a mix of excitement for the new beginning and reluctance to leave behind the life you’ve built with your boyfriend, which you cherish dearly.

Today is bustling with activity as everyone pitches in to shear the sheep. Amidst the flurry of tasks, you’ve made a mental note to seize the opportunity to interrogate Taehyung about his true intentions for staying. After all, you’ve learned the hard way that vigilance is paramount, and you refuse to let your guard down again.

Jimin sidles up to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace, his arms encircling your frame as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Ready to shear some sheep, babe?” He murmurs, his voice filled with affection and anticipation for the day ahead.

You chuckle softly as his hair tickles your neck, savoring the intimate moment as you lean into his embrace. “I was actually thinking that Taehyung and I could handle sorting the wool,” you suggest, your voice carrying a hint of determination. “It’ll give me a chance to have a chat with him.”

Jimin gently guides your body to face him, his expression tinged with curiosity. “Are you planning to interrogate him?” He inquires, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and concern.

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes in jest, but a playful smile graces your lips as you meet your boyfriend’s gaze. “Yes, someone has to get to the bottom of things,” you retort, your determination shining through.

He nods in understanding, and you find solace in his agreement, grateful that he doesn’t resist your decision. Not that he typically would, but after everything you’ve weathered together recently, it feels reassuring to approach things with a heightened sense of awareness and scrutiny.

As Jungkook and your sister step into the shearing shed, you greet them with a cheerful wave and a warm smile, grateful for their presence amidst the bustling activity.

“Shall we get to work?” Your sister’s voice rings out, punctuated by the sound of her stretching. Clad in a white tank top that seems to repel the relentless heat, she’s ready for action, as is Jungkook beside her. You and Jimin match the attire, sporting fitted tank tops of your own, ready to tackle the tasks ahead with determination.

“We’re still waiting on the others,” you remark with a smile, your gaze drifting towards the wool sorting station. Just then, the door swings open, a cacophony of voices flooding the space, signaling the arrival of the rest of the crew.

Yoongi, Hoseok, Ha-rin, and Soo-ah saunter in, their laughter echoing joyously throughout the room. While you’re unsure of the source of their amusement, their infectious laughter is enough to brighten your spirits and elicit a genuine smile from you.

As Ara strides in alongside Taehyung, their hushed conversation catches your attention. Despite the serious undertone, there’s a glimmer of warmth in their eyes, and a hint of a smile plays on their lips. Intrigued by their demeanor, you can’t help but wonder about the topic of their discussion.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Jungkook declares, his clipper in hand, “let’s get down to business.”

“Taehyung, join me at the wool sorting station,” you beckon, motioning for him to join you. With a soft smile gracing his lips, he strides over, ready to lend a hand.

“Jimin, Hobi, Yoongi, and I will tackle the shearing,” Jungkook announces, a wide grin lighting up his face. “The rest of you ladies can lend a hand by rounding up the sheep for us.”

“What? I wanna shear sheep too,” your sister protests, her arms crossing defiantly beneath her chest, a playful pout adorning her face.

“And I’m not in the mood for shearing either. How about we switch?” Yoongi suggests with a smirk, eliciting a grin from your sister. You catch Jungkook rolling his eyes at the exchange, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With everyone settled into their roles, you dive into the tasks at hand. The rhythmic hum of clippers fills the shed, accompanied by the gentle rustle of wool and the occasional laughter echoing off the walls. As the temperature rises, beads of sweat form on your brow, your tank top clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Sorting through the wool handed to you by either Yoongi, Ara, Soo-ah, or Ha-rin, you work diligently, the camaraderie of the moment overshadowing the discomfort of the heat.

Yoongi strides over, arms laden with wool, and deposits it onto the table with a resounding thud. “Here you go,” he declares, his voice tinged with determination as he joins you and Taehyung in inspecting the fibers for any imperfections that could downgrade its quality.

“Thanks, Yoon,” you offer with a grateful smile, appreciating his contribution before he swiftly turns back to the task at hand, disappearing into the flurry of activity as he assists in gathering more sheep.

Turning his gaze towards you, Taehyung’s curiosity piques. “You’re from the city too, aren’t you?” He inquires, a hint of intrigue lacing his words.

You offer him a warm smile, pausing your inspection of the wool to meet his gaze. “I spent my childhood here. But yes, I’ve mostly lived in the city,” you explain. “What about you? What’s your reason for wanting to reside in the middle of nowhere?”

His grin widens, a boxy and infectious smile lighting up his features as laughter dances in his eyes. In that moment, you find him utterly endearing. “I’m just craving a change of scenery,” he admits, his voice tinged with longing. “Something slower, calmer, and more peaceful.”

“Ah, yeah I get that. Everything’s more calm out here surrounded by nature, all the greens and the mountains,” you remark, your smile reflecting the tranquility of the landscape. Returning your attention to the wool, you scrutinize it meticulously, determined to ensure its perfection. After all, securing the highest classification means fetching the best prices—a goal you’re committed to achieving.

“And I also want to get to know my brothers better,” he adds, his voice carrying a weight of longing and earnestness.

You nod empathetically, grasping his sentiment. “So, did your mom just break the news to you?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued.

His nod is accompanied by a somber shift in his demeanor, a flicker of anger crossing his features as he clenches his teeth. “Yeah. I have a father—or a dad,” he corrects himself, bitterness seeping into his tone. “But now it turns out he’s not my biological one. My mom only found out recently when he was hospitalized and I offered to donate part of my liver. That’s when we discovered the truth—we’re not related.”

Your gasp echoes through the air, your eyes widening with a mixture of shock, horror, and empathy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, your voice heavy with concern. “Is your dad okay now?”

He nods slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “Yeah, he’s alright now,” he confirms. “But it hit us like a ton of bricks. My mom had to revisit her past, all those guys she dated, trying to piece it together. And here we are,” he adds with a shrug, his pain palpable in the weight of his gaze.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you offer sympathetically, briefly squeezing his arm in reassurance before returning to the task at hand. With determined focus, you gather the wool and feed it into the crushing machine, watching as it transforms into compacted bundles ready for bagging.

Taehyung trails after you, his voice tinged with gratitude. “Thanks. It’s okay. But,” he hesitates, leaning in closer over your shoulder, “How can I win them over? They don’t seem to warm up to me much.”

Your laughter rings out as you pivot, beckoning Taehyung to join you back at the table. “Just be genuine, kind, and humble,” you advise, meeting his gaze earnestly. “Jungkook and Jimin had their share of disagreements when they first discovered they were siblings. But genuine kindness can get you far.”

Your smile widens as Ara approaches with another batch of wool, her shy grin directed at Taehyung drawing a chuckle from you. It’s a rare sight to see Ara in such a bashful state.

“I just really want them to accept me,” Taehyung confesses, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his expression, his features taking on a slight pout.

“Then trust me, and stick with my advice,” you reassure him with a warm smile, conveying your confidence in his ability to win them over. Taehyung exudes genuine kindness, and you sense no ulterior motives in his intentions.

As you work, Jimin approaches from behind, his hands finding your hips and playfully trailing down to grasp your ass, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leans in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs softly, “Let’s take a break, my love.”

With a chuckle, you spin around to face him, your laughter fading as your lips meet his in a tender and affectionate kiss.

As the rest of the guys gather around the sorting table, Yoongi wastes no time heading for the cooler. “Anyone up for some water or maybe a cold beer?” he offers, casting a glance around the group.

“Feel like sharing a beer?” You suggest to Jimin, a playful glint in your eyes. His smile widens, and he nods eagerly, joining you at the cooler to fetch a cold one, while the others help themselves to either water or beer.

“How are you finding it here?” Hoseok inquires of Taehyung, taking a swig of his water, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

“It’s been cool so far. Just trying to get to know everyone,” Taehyung replies, his gaze sweeping across the group with genuine interest.

“I’d be happy to help with that,” Hoseok offers, his grin widening as his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm.

Hoseok’s playful finger-pointing game begins, and as he gestures to each person, a chorus of laughter fills the room. “Soo-ah’s the cute and funny one,” he declares with a grin, before moving on, “Ara’s the tall and orderly one.”

His gaze sweeps the room, landing on each member in turn. “Ha-rin’s the sweet one who keeps us all fed,” he continues, and then he points to Yoongi, “Yoongi’s the sleepy but hard-working one—oh, and also, my boyfriend,” he adds with a chuckle. Finally, he turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And she’s pretty, but don’t get on her bad side; she’ll give you a piece of her mind.” Laughter erupts from the group, and you playfully roll your eyes as Jimin pulls you closer, his embrace warm and comforting, his lips pressing softly against your temple.

Hoseok continues with his introductions, his playful tone keeping everyone entertained. “And then there’s Jessi,” he says, a note of caution in his voice, “Never get on her bad side either, but deep down, she’s a sweetheart, a loyal friend.”

His gaze shifts to you and Jimin, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Next up, we have Jimin,” he says warmly, admiration evident in his tone, “Dedicated, kind, and sometimes too good for his own good.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turns to Jungkook.

“And of course, there’s Jungkook,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips, “Who tends to let his dick do the thinking for him.” Laughter ripples through the group as Jungkook playfully shoves Hoseok, earning a round of chuckles from everyone.

Laughter erupts once more, Jungkook’s protest drowned out by the jovial atmosphere. “Hey, I’ve changed my ways!” he insists, but your sister chimes in with a teasing grin, “It’s okay, Kook. Your dick is getting married to me soon.” Her playful remark earns a round of chuckles and good-natured teasing from the group.

Jessi saunters over to Jungkook, her steps purposeful, and plants a lingering kiss on his lips, a moment that seems to stretch into eternity. The group erupts into playful cat-calls and whistles, their cheers punctuating the affectionate display between the couple.

Hoseok interjects with a playful jab, his finger pointing towards Jungkook and your sister, who are locked in an embrace that borders on scandalous as they have begun to grind their bodies against each other. “And that’s precisely why we say he thinks with his dick. Too much PDA!” he quips, the lighthearted teasing drawing laughter from the group as they playfully rib the amorous couple.

“It really is a bit much,” you remark with a chuckle, stealing a glance at Jimin whose hand finds yours in a subtle display of affection. “At least we try to keep our PDA low-key around the others,” you add with a playful wink, eliciting a soft smile from Jimin as he squeezes your hand in agreement.

Yoongi huffs, his eyes rolling dramatically as he nurses his beer. “You two should just go get a room already,” he quips, the playful annoyance in his voice drawing laughter from the group as he nods toward your sister and Jungkook.

Yoongi chuckles deeply, his laughter infused with a hint of amusement. “That was pretty cool, babe, but also, very stereotypical casting for all of us,” he remarks, shooting a playful glance around the group. Hoseok joins him at his side, nodding in agreement with a grin.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok chuckles, his tone carrying a hint of mischief that matches the glint in his eyes. Yet, there's a warmth to his expression that makes his lack of apology forgivable. After all, his assessment of all of you wasn't entirely inaccurate.

“Thanks,” Taehyung replies with a genuine smile, a glimmer of gratitude shining in his eyes as he acknowledges Hoseok’s words.

“We should get back to work,” Jimin suggests, his touch on your hip sending a familiar, comforting shiver down your spine, as it always does.

You all return to your tasks, you and Taehyung engaged in sorting the wool while sharing anecdotes about your childhoods and exchanging musings about life in the city.

Ha-rin approaches with a bundle of wool for sorting and sets it on the table before leaning in close to you, her expression carrying a sense of urgency. “I have something important to share with you,” she whispers.

You pivot toward her, your attention fully captured, while Taehyung focuses on the task of sorting the wool.

Ha-rin’s eyes sparkle with an unmistakable glow, maybe happiness or excitement, as her smile widens, and her cheeks flush with color. “Do you remember Seokjin?” she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, a smile stretching across your face, encouraging Ha-rin to continue with her story.

“Well, We’re dating now!” She announces, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as she practically bounces with joy.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You exclaim, your voice filled with genuine excitement, as you pull her into your embrace for a tight hug.

“Who’s Seokjin?” Taehyung’s curious voice chimes in from behind you.

“Just my new boyfriend,” Ha-rin says with a proud voice, her eyes shimmering with new love, “You’ll meet him at the wedding.”

“Cool,” Taehyung says with a smile as he goes back to sorting the wool with you, his movements fluid and purposeful as he assists in the process of crushing and bagging it.

The rest of the day unfolds much the same, a symphony of shared labor and laughter, until the sun dips low in the sky, casting golden hues across the landscape. With evening approaching, the decision is made to take the festivities outdoors, firing up the barbecue on the terrace.

After weeks of anticipation and tireless efforts, the final touches have been put in place, completing the reconstruction of your beloved ranch. The delivery trucks have come and gone, leaving behind a treasure trove of furniture that now adorns your home. With the major pieces in place, your attention turns to the finer details — the trinkets, accents, and embellishments that will infuse warmth and personality into every corner of your space.

The rain beats relentlessly against the windshield, but Jimin’s presence beside you provides a comforting contrast to the gloomy weather outside. Despite the downpour making visibility scarce, your determination to find the perfect pieces for your home remains unwavering as you navigate through the storm into town, eager to explore the treasures waiting within the second-hand furniture store.

You both step out of Jimin’s truck, the sound of the rain intensifies, its rhythmic patter echoing through the streets. Jimin’s hand finds yours, fingers interlocking as if seeking solace in each other’s touch amidst the storm. Together, you brave the downpour, your clothes already drenched, yet the warmth of his hand in yours provides a shield against the chill of the rain.

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, and Jimin’s gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting concern and affection. “Do you have a clear idea of what you’re looking for?” He inquires, his voice cutting through the sound of raindrops drumming against the pavement.

You pause for a moment, the weight of your loss heavy in your words, “I don’t really know. I suppose I’ll recognize it when I see it. It’s just... devastating, you know? All those irreplaceable things, gone in an instant.” The ache in your voice echoes the memories lost in the fire—photos of cherished moments, mementos of family and your shared history with Jimin. Yet, despite the devastation, there’s a glimmer of solace in your next words, “But we still have each other, and that’s what matters most.”

Jimin’s voice carries a tender reassurance, “I know, love. It’s not the same, but we can create new memories— together.” His hopeful smile glimmers through the rain as you reach the door of the store, promising a future woven with shared moments and fresh beginnings.

As he pushes open the door, you’re enveloped in the scent of old wood and nostalgia, a comforting embrace from the past. Inside, Jimin guides you through the aisles, where small lamps cast warm glows, paintings whisper tales of distant lands, and bedding invites dreams of serenity. Yet, amidst the array of treasures, nothing seems to call out to you, each item silent in its appeal.

You find yourself yearning for the familiarity of your old belongings, their absence casting a shadow over the task of replacement. Amidst the sea of options, uncertainty looms large, leaving you grappling with indecision as you navigate the aisles.

“Nothing here seems to resonate with me,” you grumble softly, feeling a sense of frustration as Jimin wraps his arm around you, offering silent support in the midst of your indecision.

“You don’t have to force it, love,” he says, his touch gentle as he strokes your arm, understanding the weight of the moment as you continue to wander among the aisles filled with relics of other people’s pasts, none of which seem to fit the future you’re trying to build for your home.

“I know, it’s just... I want my home to feel like mine again,” you admit, your voice carrying the weight of longing and a touch of anxiety. You can feel the restlessness creeping into your veins, a desperate desire to reclaim the sense of belonging that once filled every corner of your space. Even after the rebuilding was complete and you revisited, that familiar warmth seemed elusive, leaving you yearning for a sense of home that now feels like a distant memory.

“I understand. And if it helps, I have some old photos of us as kids. Maybe they’ll bring back some of that warmth,” he offers, his voice tender as he leans in to kiss your cheek. In that moment, flooded with memories and affection, your heart swells with love and a renewed sense of comfort.

“Thank you, my love,” you murmur, leaning into his warm touch, feeling a surge of gratitude for having him by your side, a constant source of comfort and support in your life.

“Shall we head back home, then?” he asks, gently tugging you towards the exit, his eyes filled with a tender reassurance that no matter where you go, as long as you’re together, it’s home.

“Yeah, let’s head back home,” you agree, following his lead out into the rain. The downpour has only intensified, each raindrop drumming a frantic rhythm on the pavement. You quicken your pace, darting towards his truck with eager steps, eager to escape the deluge and find refuge in the warmth of home.

You share a laugh, the sound mingling with the patter of rain around you, as you both sit there drenched, your hair plastered to your skin and raindrops trickling down your clothes like tiny rivers.

Jimin casually runs his hand through his bangs, a gesture so effortlessly captivating that it sends a shiver down your spine. There’s something undeniably enticing about the way his fingers tousle his hair, igniting a fire deep within your core.

With a satisfying rumble, Jimin turns the key in the ignition, awakening his truck from its slumber. The engine roars to life, echoing the thunderous rhythm of your hearts. As he deftly maneuvers the vehicle in reverse, the world outside the windshield blurs into streaks of rain, a symphony of droplets dancing against the glass. Soon, you’re back on the familiar path homeward, each turn of the wheel bringing you closer to the sanctuary of his home.

You gaze out the rain-streaked windows, the world outside a whirl of fleeting hues and misty raindrops. A pang of melancholy settles in your chest, a silent lament for the unfulfilled promise of finding pieces to restore the warmth of your home. Yet, amidst the downpour and the passing scenery, a glimmer of hope flickers within you. You cling to the belief that with time, dedication, and shared love, you can piece together the fragments of familiarity, stitching together a tapestry of comfort reminiscent of days gone by.

“It’s pouring buckets,” you remark, squinting through the rain that blurs the world beyond the windshield into an abstract watercolor.

“Yeah, it’s like driving on an ice rink out here,” Jimin mutters, his grip on the wheel tightening as the car skids slightly, prompting you to glance at him, relieved to find his attention still fixed on the road ahead.

Damn you hate driving in rainy weather— you know it takes so much focus and attention. Your muscles tensing with each unpredictable swerve of the car. Every moment feels like an eternity, your only wish for the storm to relent and let you reach your destination unscathed.

“Shit!” Jimin’s expletive slices through the tension as a deer darts across the road, forcing him to swerve sharply and the truck skids to a halt. Your heart lurches against the seatbelt, grateful for its hold as the truck jerks to a stop. With wide eyes, you glance at Jimin, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, a symphony of muttered curses escaping his lips.

He presses down on the accelerator, but the wheels only spin uselessly, kicking up mud and gravel.

Damn it, you’re stuck, aren’t you?

You turn to Jimin, your eyes widening in alarm. “Are we stuck?”

Jimin huffs, frustration evident as he runs a hand through his hair again. “I’m afraid we are.”

“At least the deer made it out okay,” he grunts in frustration.

“Yeah, yeah, great for the deer, but now we’re stranded,” you grumble, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, frustration settling in as rain pelts the chassis of the truck.

You release a frustrated huff as the reality of the situation sinks in. “What do we do now, Jimin?” You turn to him, concern etched in your eyes.

“We could try to push the truck back onto the road,” he suggests, his breath heavy with resignation.

You gape at him, disbelief etched across your face. “Why can’t we just call for help?”

He lets out a frustrated chuckle, the sound laced with tension. “It’ll take forever for help to arrive out here. We might as well give it a shot, see if we can push it out of the mud. If we can’t, then we’ll call for backup.”

“Fine,” you grunt, regretting not grabbing your raincoat before this impromptu adventure. Anger simmers beneath your skin, though you know it’s futile. Still, frustration pulses through your veins as you swing open the door and step out into the relentless rain, each drop feeling like a reminder of the day’s misfortune.

Jimin joins you, and together you march to the rear of the truck, determination etched on your faces as you brace yourselves against the heavy load. With gritted teeth and strained muscles, you throw your weight against it, but it remains stubbornly unmoved, resisting your efforts with an infuriating steadfastness.

“Jimin, have you even put it in neutral?” you demand, your patience wearing thin, the frustration evident in your tone as irritation simmers beneath the surface.

“Shit, I forgot that,” Jimin apologizes, rushing back to the driver’s seat to rectify his oversight and shift the gear into neutral. You can’t help but roll your eyes and emit a frustrated grunt. Forgetting such a crucial step isn’t exactly conducive to getting the truck unstuck, and you're feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you.

“Seriously, love,” you grumble, the frustration mounting within you like a tempest.

“Are you mad now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah! I’m so frustrated that we’re in this situation at all!” you huff in anger, your voice resonating with frustration. You plant your hands firmly on the load at the back of the truck. “Help me push it.”

Jimin joins you, his expression apologetic as he understands your frustration. Despite his remorse, you’re determined to push the damn truck back on the road and get back home. The rain continues to soak you both, and while the weather isn’t freezing, you're aware that staying outside in wet clothes isn’t ideal.

You exert every ounce of strength to push the damn truck, but it remains stubbornly stuck in the mud. Your feet struggle for traction in the slippery terrain, and with a frustrated grunt, you lose your balance, landing with a heavy thud in the mire. Jimin, ever beside you, extends his hand, offering support in the midst of your muddy ordeal.

As you grip his hand, now coated in mud like the rest of you from your unplanned plunge, Jimin’s concern is palpable in his voice. “Are you alright?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury amidst the muck.

Frustration boiling over, you unleash a torrent of emotion, your voice echoing in the rain-soaked air. “I hate this fucking truck!” You scream, the words carrying your exasperation and anger into the stormy air.

With a surge of frustration, you unleash a primal act of defiance, kicking the stubborn truck with all your might. Storming around to the passenger side, you yank open the door, then dive into the glove compartment, your hands fumbling desperately for anything to wipe the mud from your face.

In the heat of your fury, items tumble from the glove box, but you pay them no mind. Enveloped by anger, you allow the contents to spill onto the muddied ground, a chaotic symphony of frustration. Finally, your hand closes around a fabric, and as you draw it out, relief washes over you at the sight of the handkerchief clutched in your grasp.

“I’m so sorry, but there’s no reason to be mad,” Jimin’s voice breaks through your fury, gentle and soothing, yet you can’t shake off the bubbling anger as you tighten your grip around the cloth, your frustration simmering beneath the surface like a tempest ready to erupt.

“This is your fucking fault! If you hadn’t swerved to avoid that deer, we wouldn’t be stuck here!” You erupt, the words laced with bitterness and frustration, punctuated by the slamming of the door. Bending down, you scoop up a handful of mud, your movements fueled by anger, and hurl it at your boyfriend, the wet earth splattering against his chest with a muddy thud.

“Hey!” He shouts, his voice tinged with both surprise and frustration as the mud hits him squarely in the chest. “If I hadn’t swerved, we would’ve collided with the poor animal,” he huffs, his words defensive yet tinged with a hint of remorse.

“I don’t give a Shit! Why do you have to be so damn sweet?” You curse, frustration dripping from every word as you slump against the passenger’s door, letting your body slide down to the dirt. At this point, you couldn’t care less. You’re drenched, the rain relentless, and your clothes are soaked and caked with mud. You scoop up more dirt, hurling it at him, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.

“Why are you throwing mud at me?” He chuckles as you continue to hurl clumps of mud at him.

“You deserve to be as filthy as me. After all, this mess is all your doing,” you retort with a laugh, embracing the absurdity of the moment. You feel utterly ridiculous, but in the midst of your misery, why not find a bit of humor?

Your fingers coil around yet another clump of mud, but this one has an unfamiliar weight to it. Just as you’re about to launch it at him, a flicker of caution halts your arm mid-swing. What if it’s not just mud? What if it’s a stone? You freeze, the gravity of potentially hurting him suddenly sinking in. With a conscious effort, you halt your motion and peer closely at the object cradled in your palm.

As you inspect the object further, it dawns on you that it’s not a stone at all—it’s more box-shaped, its contours distinctly different from the surrounding mud.

You pull the object closer, curiosity piqued. With both hands now engaged in the inspection, the handkerchief falls forgotten into the mud below.

As you remove the mud from the box, your heart races with anticipation, and a surge of emotions washes over you—love, excitement, and a hint of disbelief. With trembling hands, you begin to realize the significance of what you might have stumbled upon.

Jimin notices the box in your hands, and as your eyes widen with realization, he senses a shift in the atmosphere. His own expression morphs into one of nervousness and shock as he hurries over to you, his voice pleading, “Don’t.”

“Jimin,” your voice quivers, uncertainty laced with a trembling anticipation as you gaze at the box in your hands. A strange mix of fear and longing swirls within you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your body trembles with emotion. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Please don’t open it now,” he implores, his voice tinged with urgency as he kneels before you, eyes pleading.

You disregard his pleas, your focus solely on the mysterious box in your hands. His touch, though comforting, fades into the background as tears blur your vision.

“Is this... for me?” The question trembles in your voice, laden with hope and uncertainty.

He takes a deep breath, a hint of frustration flickering across his features before he confirms with a soft, resigned tone, “It is.”

You lock eyes with him, your gaze searching for answers. “Why can’t I open it then?” You ask, your voice a blend of curiosity and longing, yearning to unravel the mystery within the box.

He bites his bottom lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he weighs his words carefully. “It’s not the right time,” he murmurs softly, his tone laden with hidden meaning, leaving you wondering what secrets the box holds and why now isn't the moment to unveil it.

“Right time?” You echo, your voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and longing, your fingers tightening around the box as if it holds the answers to all your questions. You draw it closer to your chest, the weight of it pressing against your heart, desperate for the secrets it guards to be revealed.

You feel as if the air has been sucked out of your lungs, a lump forming in your throat, making it hard to speak. “I don’t care about the right time,” you manage to say, your voice strained with emotion, your heart pounding against the confines of your chest.

Your voice quivers with raw emotion, the weight of your longing evident in every syllable. “I want to open it,” you insist, your words carrying the depth of your desire, echoing the urgency in your heart.

You catch a glimpse of uncertainty flickering in his eyes, a silent plea for patience. Yet, an undeniable yearning propels you forward. Damn it, you need to uncover the mysteries held within that box!

“Or better yet, you open it for me,” you press the box into his trembling hands, your voice a whisper of longing, “Please.”

He accepts the box from your hands into his own, his fingers tracing its edges with a tenderness that mirrors the emotion swirling in the air around you. For a timeless moment, the rain’s relentless patter provides the only soundtrack to your anticipation.

“Alright,” he whispers, his voice a gentle breeze in the midst of the rainstorm, laden with layers of emotion—love, adoration, and a hint of vulnerability that draws you closer.

With deliberate care, he unfurls the box’s lid, revealing its hidden treasure, as you stand there in the rain, every droplet echoing the rapid beat of your heart. Your breath hangs suspended as the ring emerges, a golden band adorned with a mesmerizing purple gemstone. Your hands quiver with anticipation, your gaze flitting between the ring and your beloved, each moment pregnant with emotion.

Jimin kneels before you, his eyes alight with a blend of love and hope that sparkles even in the rain-soaked dimness. His hair, drenched and plastered to his head, gives him an endearingly disheveled appearance, yet there’s an undeniable allure in his vulnerability. With the box cradled in his hand, he exudes a nervous energy, his lip caught between his teeth.

In that suspended moment, every beat of your heart seems magnified, echoing in the space between you and Jimin. Emotions swirl within you, a tumultuous mix of love and anticipation, rendering you speechless. Your affection for him surges, a tidal wave of adoration that threatens to overwhelm you. All you want is to feel the weight of that ring on your finger, a tangible symbol of your boundless love.

Yet, as the seconds tick by, the question remains unspoken, hanging in the air like an unclaimed promise.

With a deep breath, he begins, “My love,” and the mere sound of those words sends a shiver down your spine, a surge of emotions welling up within you, threatening to overflow. His voice, soft yet laden with sincerity, washes over you like a gentle breeze on a summer day.

“I’ve loved you for so long, with every beat of my heart,” he confesses, his voice wavering with emotion amidst the relentless downpour. “I want nothing more than to spend eternity by your side, to cherish every moment with you. Will you marry me?” With those words, he offers you not just a ring, but his soul, laid bare before you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his devotion despite the storm raging around you.

Tears mingle with the raindrops, cascading down your cheeks, as you gaze at him, your heart a tumultuous symphony of emotions. In that moment, the world around you fades into a blur, leaving only him, his earnest expression etched into your soul.

“Fuck yes, you beautiful fool,” you manage to gasp amidst tears of joy, your muddy fingers staining his cheeks as you pull him into a fervent kiss. In that embrace, it’s as if the universe itself has aligned, every piece falling into perfect place. Your kiss is a declaration, a promise of endless love and boundless passion, a testament to the unbreakable bond between your souls. As you meld together in that moment, you can’t help but release a guttural sound of longing and satisfaction into his mouth.

With a tender chuckle, he breaks the kiss for a moment, and as you catch your breath, your left hand trembles with the weight of your affection as you extend it towards him.

Gently, he slides the ring over your muddy ring finger, his eyes never leaving yours, and when it finally settles in its place, you glance down at the ring. There, snug on your finger, it feels like it belongs, a tangible emblem of your love. You’re overwhelmed with an indescribable sense of completeness, your heart brimming with an abundance of love.

With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, captivated by the dimples adorning his cheeks. Eager for another kiss, you lean in, your enthusiasm propelling you forward, but in your haste, you inadvertently push him down onto the muddy ground. His back meets the wet earth, but undeterred, you lower yourself on top of him, your lips meeting in a fervent embrace, each kiss imbued with the passion and love that fills your heart.

You couldn’t care less about the rain, the mud coating your clothes, or the dampness seeping into your skin. In this moment, with his proposal still echoing in your mind, you’re consumed by an overwhelming sense of love and euphoria. It’s as if the world around you fades into insignificance compared to the depth of emotion swelling in your heart.

“Jimin, I…” You pause, your voice cracking with emotion as you lock eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze conveying volumes of unsaid words. “Damn it,” you continue, your voice trembling with raw sincerity, “I love you more than words can express. We’ve weathered storms together, faced hardships, but through it all, my love for you has only grown stronger. I want to spend eternity with you, by your side, through every high and every low.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, a mixture of overwhelming joy and profound emotion washing over you. But instead of words, you convey the depth of your feelings through a tender kiss, your lips meeting his with a fervor born of love. As you press against him, you feel the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling, a comforting reassurance amidst the storm of emotions. With each tear that falls, you’re reminded of the depth of your love, your journey, and the unwavering bond that binds your souls together.

With a gentle touch, he reaches for your face, his fingertips tracing the path of your tears, a futile attempt to wipe them away amidst the mud and rain. Despite the grime that now marks his hands, his touch carries a tenderness that speaks volumes, a silent promise to be there for you, even in the messiest of moments.

He lifts you gently, his hands cradling your face as he meets your gaze with sincerity. “I’m so sorry for everything, love,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the weight of his remorse and the depth of his affection.

You gently shake your head, your eyes meeting his with a soft intensity. “I know you’re sorry, and I am too. But we’ve said sorry enough,” you whisper, your voice carrying a note of resolve. “I just want to look ahead, please.”

With a solemn nod, mud now smudging his hair further, he reciprocates your kiss, his lips molding against yours as if they were made for each other. His lips, soft and warm against yours, feel like a sanctuary, each beat of your heart syncing with the rhythm of his own.

You break the kiss, your fingers intertwining with his as you guide him to sit beside you, eager to admire the ring together. The sight of it takes your breath away; it’s not just beautiful—it’s downright stunning. The way it catches the limited light, shimmering with a brilliance that reflects your love, leaves you speechless.

“How long have you had it?” Your question lingers in the air, accompanied by the gentle patter of raindrops. You can’t help but smile, feeling like the luckiest person in the world, despite the downpour soaking you both.

His laughter dances in harmony with the rhythm of the rain, a melody of joy amidst the storm. As his hand navigates through his hair, smearing more mud across his face, you can’t help but join in, your laughter echoing through the downpour.

“You won’t believe me,” he chuckles nervously, a hint of mystery teasing his words. You playfully shove him on the shoulder, your laughter mingling with the pitter-patter of raindrops. Leaning into his sturdy frame, you find comfort against the backdrop of the truck, a sanctuary in the midst of the storm.

“Try me,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you place your muddy hand over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your touch.

“I’ve had it for months,” he confesses, and you let out a gasp, pulling away to gaze at him with wide eyes, surprise painting your features.

“Shit, really?” You exclaim, disbelief evident in your voice. It’s hard to fathom that he’s been carrying the ring around for so long.

“I got it before Deiji came back and announced her pregnancy,” he confesses, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, though a hint of sadness lingers in his eyes.

“I’m still sorry about that, but I’m also relieved that we don’t have to deal with that anymore, to be honest,” you confide, a wistful smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah. I know,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a weight of longing and resignation. “I was really looking forward to being a father, I guess.”

You gently cup his cheeks, locking eyes with him. “I know, love. But you can still be a father-– a father to our kids. I want everything with you, even kids. Maybe not right at this moment, but in the future, absolutely.”

You witness the spark in his eyes ignite, tears welling up and cascading down his cheeks, his whole being pulsating with emotion. Without hesitation, you draw him close, enveloping him in a tight embrace, sharing in his overwhelming moment of vulnerability and love.

“Thank you. I love you so much,” his words, though muffled against your shoulder, resonate deeply within you, carrying the weight of his love and gratitude. You hold him tighter, cherishing the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice as he expresses his boundless affection.

You gently stroke his back, feeling the rise and fall of his trembling breaths against your chest. With tender reassurance, you speak softly, your words carrying the weight of unwavering devotion. “You beautiful fool,” you murmur, “I love you so much too.”

As the rain continues to cascade around you, mingling with the mud beneath your feet, Jimin’s resourcefulness shines through. With a determined glint in his eye, he offers a solution amidst the downpour. “How about this,” he suggests, his voice cutting through the rain’s steady rhythm. “You take the wheel, and I’ll push the truck forward from the back.” His hands grip a sturdy piece of wood, strategically positioned beneath the wheels for added traction.

Feeling a surge of determination, you nod decisively and make your way to the driver’s seat. With a sense of purpose, you settle in, the familiar hum of the engine beneath you. Guiding the gear shift into place, you take a deep breath, your focus unwavering. As the engine roars to life, you ease your foot onto the accelerator, the truck finally inching forward with each determined push from Jimin’s hands against its frame.

With each concerted effort, the truck gradually inches forward, overcoming the resistance of the mud with each determined push. A surge of triumph floods through you as the tires find traction, guiding the vehicle back onto the solid ground of the road. As Jimin approaches, his eyes bright with pride and relief, he leans in and seals the moment with a tender kiss, a silent celebration of your shared victory.

His grin widens as he gazes at your hand, adorned with the beautiful ring, and then back up at you. “Do you want to take the wheel?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your laughter fills the cabin, a delightful symphony against the drumming rain outside. “No way, not in this weather,” you chuckle, relinquishing the driver’s seat and venturing back out into the rain. Jimin flashes you a grateful smile as he settles back into the driver’s seat, ready to navigate the wet roads once more.

Through the rain-streaked windshield, he guides you home with a steady hand, the soft hum of the engine blending seamlessly with the pitter-patter of raindrops. In this tranquil cocoon of affection, words seem unnecessary as your love speaks volumes, enveloping you both in a comforting embrace.

With practiced precision, he guides the truck onto the familiar terrain of the yard, the rain still a faithful companion to your journey.

You both leap out of the truck, a contagious giddiness infusing your steps, your hand instinctively seeking Jimin’s as you scan the expanse of the ranch for your friends, the anticipation palpable in the air that mirrors the fluttering excitement in your hearts. You can’t wait to tell your friends and sister what has happened.

As you scour the house and comb through every corner of the property, your curiosity leads you to the stables. With a creak of the door, you’re greeted by a chorus of voices resonating from within, hinting at the presence of your friends.

You tread down the rustic aisle of the stables, the earthy scent of hay and sawdust swirling around you. There, amidst the soft glow of fluorescent light, you spot your sister, Jungkook, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok engrossed in the meticulous task of cleaning out the stalls, their laughter echoing off the wooden beams.

You beam, your eyes catching Yoongi’s in the warm glow of the stable windows. His puzzled expression prompts a chuckle as he gestures towards your muddy attire, “What happened? You’re all covered in dirt.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling like the protagonist in some quirky romantic comedy. Grinning ear to ear, you confess, “We drove off the road.”

You observe as the guys down their tools, their attention instantly drawn to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and worry.

Concern etches across your sister’s face as she strides over to you along the aisle, her voice soft with worry as she asks, “Are you okay?”

Grinning, you reassure them, “We’re all good. Managed to push the truck back on the road,” your laughter intertwining with the warmth of Jimin’s hand in yours.

Yoongi’s curiosity draws him closer, his eyes narrowing in on your beaming expression. “What’s got you grinning like a fool?” He prods, his voice a mix of amusement and genuine interest.

Yoongi’s playful smirk widens, his gaze shifting between you and Jimin. “Did you guys do it in the truck or something?” He teases, his tone laced with humor and a hint of mischief.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at Yoongi's jest. “Nah, not this time,” you reply between chuckles, exchanging a knowing glance with Jimin.

“Gross,” Taehyung grunts in mock disgust from one of the stalls, his voice echoing playfully through the wooden space.

With a gleeful grin, you extend your left hand, showcasing the glimmering ring adorning your finger like a prized possession, the sunlight from the windows catching the gemstone and casting colorful reflections around the stable.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise as they dart between the ring on your finger and Jimin’s face, his voice tinged with disbelief, “You proposed?”

Your sister practically shoves Yoongi away in her eagerness to get a closer look, grabbing your hand despite the mud, her eyes widening as she takes in the glinting ring. Then, her gaze shifts to Jimin, a mixture of joy and teasing in her voice, “You finally did it, huh? I’m so happy for both of you! Congratulations!”

You give Jimin and your sister a puzzled stare, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean? Did you know he was going to propose?”

Your sister chuckles, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Yeah, me and Jungkook knew. I saw Jimin in the jewelry store, and he showed the ring to me. It’s perfect, right?” As she speaks, Jungkook appears behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a loving embrace, a grin playing on his lips.

“It absolutely is,” you reply, wiggling your fingers and soaking in the sheer joy of the moment.

With no regard for the mud covering both of you, Yoongi envelops you in a tight embrace, drawing Jimin into the hug as well. “I’m so happy for both of you,” he declares, his voice thick with emotion. As he releases you and moves toward his boyfriend for a hug, you feel the warmth of his happiness lingering in the air.

As you prepare to return home, a strange sensation grips you, a reluctance to part ways with Jimin. Despite the completion of your ranch project and the fond memories made there with him, the idea of leaving him behind feels unsettling. You feel like you’re leaving a piece of your heart behind with him. Yet, it’s a decision you’ve both agreed upon, a part of the plan to return home.

You and your sister pull up to the two-story ranch, freshly painted and gleaming in the sunlight, and a wave of disbelief washes over you. The transformation is remarkable, almost surreal. Where once stood a weathered, tired structure now stands a vibrant testament to renewal and hard work. It’s as if you’ve arrived at the wrong address, the familiarity of the old ranch replaced by the unfamiliarity of its rejuvenated form.

Your sister’s voice breaks the momentary trance, her words a gentle reminder of the significance of the place. “Home sweet home,” she declares, stepping out of the truck, her tone imbued with warmth and nostalgia.

“Yeah,” you respond, the word carrying a weight you hadn’t intended. As you shut the truck doors, a melancholic sigh escapes you, a silent acknowledgment of the bittersweet feeling settling in your chest.

Stepping into the once-familiar yet now transformed house feels like entering a parallel universe. Everything appears unchanged on the surface, but the atmosphere is different, charged with an unfamiliar energy that leaves you feeling like an outsider in your own home. Memories, both joyful and sorrowful, linger in the air like whispers of a past life now distant and unreachable.

You trudge your way to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed that feels foreign beneath you, devoid of the familiar impressions of nights past. Your gaze sweeps across the room, noticing the barren walls and the stark emptiness of the new dresser. It’s as if the fire that swept through, consumed every trace of the life you once knew, leaving only ashes in its wake. Anguish tightens your chest as you stare up at the ceiling, the truth settling in like a heavy weight on your shoulders—this place, this shell of a home, it’s not where your heart resides.

Nothing is home if Jimin isn’t there.

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 (Sunday) →

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talks-with-the-void · 3 months

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I tried to tag the commenter but the blog doesn't show up, so I can't. TW: this post does contain what could be interpreted as reality checking and although I don't mean any harm, this could potentially be triggering!

But anyway, this requieres a longer answer - I'm gonna give them the benefit of the doubt and just assume they just don't know better, which is fine, we're all here to learn. So please don't read an attack into this! I also do not experience delusions myself and certaimly don't want to speak over those who do. I am doing my best to be respectful and not accidentally spread misinformation, but if I mess up, please let me know!

Firstly, "delusion" is not a bad word. a delusion isn't "somethign stupid someone believes in, what the fuck is wromg with them", it's a (symptom of) a serious mental illness, often seen in schizophrenia and psychosis. it's an unshakable belief that contradicts Reality (= in this post, Reality with a capital R refers to the reality that is generally shared by all people and can be seen and experinced by everyone - aside from those who may have delusions). "touching grass" won't do anything to help that, it is reality for them and absolutely nothing and nobody can change that. at worst, telling them they're wrong and should just "touch grass" will make them suffer even more.

so, yes, you could say that all p-shifters experince delusions, because nobody but them can see their transformations. at least, there hasn't been any proof at all until today and their beliefs absolutely clash with science and Reality. but here's the thing: there is a condition called clinical lycanthropy or clinical zoanthropy, which describes exactly the experience of believing you can, have turned or will turn into an animal. there are quite a few of them here on tumblr, having their own community which also often kinda overlaps with alterhuman spaces. those people are not p-shifters! p-shifter is not a medical term or anything, instead it is a term that has evolved here on the internet and has a history of cult-like behaviour, lots of manipulation, malicious people, etc. the "original" p-shifters also oftentimes had a lot of ableistic opinions, openly shitting on clinical zoanthropes, using delusional as an insult, etc. the term p-shifter was never ever meant to describe the experience of clinical zoanthropy. it was invented to create the feeling of belonging to an elite group, to put yourself over others. it's even questionable if the majority of p-shifters actually believes they could transform or if they just wanted power over others, promising them to teach them how to turn, knowing all to well it can't work.

nowadays, some clinical zoanthropes try to "reclaim" the term p-shifter - which is a problem, because you can't just take a term that was NEVER meant to describe your experinces and also never used as a slur against you. a different example in alterhuman context would e the word kinnie - originally made by trolls and to shit on otherkin, it always directly addressed otherkin, even if in a deregatory way. it was meant to be used for otherkin. p-shifter was never meant to be used for delusional people. p-shifter will always have its ties to manipulation and cults, it will always be a harmful term.

I don't and will never allow people who call themselves p-shifters on my blog, because of the terms roots.

there is nothing wrong with truly believing you can transforn into an animal, even tho it contrdicts Reality. there is absolutely nothing wrong with being delusional (as in, it doesn't make you a bad person, of course it almost always comes with suffering). there however IS something wrong with proudly using a term that was NEVER meant for you, never described your experiences and instead has a history of manipulation and online-cults. if you proudly call yourself p-shifter and just basically decide to ignore that history, I don't trust you.

THIS is what my post was about, not about the fact that some people are delusional.

#nonhuman #alterhuman #alterhumanity #otherkin #nonhumanity

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stinkyme · 6 months

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I know tumblr has been a bit stressful lately and I just want to say to all my fellow writers - I love you with my whole heart and I support you with my whole being

it doesn't matter if you write sfw, nsfw, dark content, incorrect quotes, prompts, original stories or OCs - I love you. Your work matters, your effort matters and it's evident in every word you put out there. It doesn't matter if you haven't written for a while due to responsibilities, if you haven't been able to finish that one wip, if you keep on starting new works, if you have a writer's block atm, if you are nervous to post writings, if you write for your own personal enjoyment without sharing it publicly, if your work didn't get as many notes as you hoped, if you write multichapter stories/long oneshots/short oneshots/headcanons/prompts/quotes - you are always incredible

All the effort and thought and soul that you put into your work is amazing, admirable and absolutely brilliant. Please don't let anything discourage you from writing. I know numbers can get to us even when we write for pure enjoyment because we know that, still, we put so much of our being in it and appreciation can give us so much motivation. I know how exciting it is when we finish a story, when we come up with a creative idea, when we do our research in order to make the story as real as possible, when we try to do things differently in order to explore more of our creativity, when we get out of writer's block. I know how happy it makes us when we see a lovely comment or a reblog. I know how intimidating and scary it can be to post on here and how little things can get to us because we wish people were able to see how much time and effort we put into, but trust me, we know you do :) <3

I know firsthand that you try your best to leave a touch on any person that may come across your work and I love you for that. Please keep on writing, enjoying and don't be your worst critic. Today, be kind to yourself and remind yourself how hard you work and let yourself be proud of everything that you do :)

#stinkytalks #i loveeeee youuuuuuuuu <3 #your mind is brilliant and amazing and it makes me so happy #please keep doing you no matter what :)

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totally-bogus-timelady · 1 year

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18+ only!! Oneshot fwb!Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

A/N this is my first fic on tumblr. Had a concept so I thought I'd give it a whirl. I'm hoping to make this into a series at some point, but I'll see how it's received first. Comments and reblogs are appreciated, I'd love to know what you guys think.

Warnings: Pure smut, filth but kinda sweet. It's fwb!Steve what'd you expect 🤷🏼‍♀️

P.s: If I have used your gif and you'd like me to either take it down or give credit, please let me know as I have so many Steve/Eddie gifs saved and I have no idea where they originally came from 😅💕

Your hand runs slowly up his abdomen, feeling the taught muscles there tensing up in anticipation of what you're about to do. You scratch lightly through his chest hair as he pushes you slightly deeper into the mattress. His mattress that you've been on now more times than you can count. He buries his head into your neck, lightly kissing a path up to your jaw and then lifts his head, big brown eyes deeply searching yours as he hikes your leg higher on his hip and gently squeezes your thigh.

"You ready for me?" Steve asks. In a second your other leg grips over his hip and you push, flipping you both over. You smirk, Steve now under you gawking up in surprise, mouth ajar and lashes fluttering in that beautifully dumbstruck expression that only Steve could make look so pretty.

"Question is pretty boy, are you ready for me?" You tease your hips, grinding ever so gently against his hardening erection.

Steve makes a small gasping sound before quickly recovering from your ministrations. "You think I'm pretty?" He smirks coyly at you and starts to cant up into your gentle grinding, filling you both with pleasure and anticipation. You lean forward and start to mouth at his chest, sucking and kissing, leaving marks that only you get to see. A deep, loud groan resounds from deep within his chest. You move up to that spot between his shoulder and his neck and start to suckle at it, nipping and licking to soothe your hard work as Steve moans in utter bliss, the sound hitting your ear and wetting between your own legs even more.

Your hand slides down through the hair on his chest, teasing along the trail, past his bellybutton and finally reaches his firm cock. You palm at it as Steve's moans climb higher up the rungs of pleasure. You sit back a little, still palming at him and look at his half lidded, blissed out eye's.

"Now I do," You snicker.

"Oh god... Please... y/n, please."

You kiss up his chest again til you reach his jaw, giving it a small peck before you look into the dark, lust-filled hazel of his eyes. Your free hand threads itself into Steve's hair, other hand now moving faster over his pulsing cock. You tug gently at his thick, dark locks. Steve breathes your name against your lips as his hands travel underneath the shirt you slept in. He realises now that it's actually one of his shirts. He's not sure why but this makes him smile into your kiss.

"What're you grinning about Dingus?"

Steve looks up at you, your hand slowing slightly over his boxers. "Nothing, I'm just... I'm glad that we do this. You know, it's nice to have someone to just... blow off some steam with. Someone that you trust and... Well, you know what I mean."

You smile sweetly at your friend. Steve Harrington. The guy who you now struggle to think of not being in your life like this. Steve who you've now been under, on top of, wrapped around in the most intimate of ways. All the ways that you never got to be with Eddie.

Eddie.

Your heart stutters for a moment as you realise you haven't thought about Eddie much lately. A surge of guilt pulses through you as your smile drops, just a little. Eddie's not here anymore. Steve is. Steve's here, hot and all consuming and gazing into your eyes waiting for some kind of response. You decide that you won't let your grief ruin this moment for either of you.

"I'm glad that we do this too," You whisper. "Your a good friend Steve."

Steve's smile falters, unsure as to why those words bother him. But then your hand quickens it's pace again and the moments gone.

Steve becomes a moaning mess, grinding into your hand, hushed praises falling from his lips.

It's then that you hear footsteps through the open window of Steve's bedroom. Deciding to ignore it you pull at the band of his boxers and delicately slide your hand in, using the precum dribbling out of his angry tip to lube up the rest of his shaft. You stroke up and down, twisting your hand a little as you go. The only sounds in the room now being the 'shlick' of your hand on his cock and Steve's pathetic whimpers.

"Oh," He pants. "Oh, god. Y/N! Ugh."

His hands grip your hips again as you begin kissing and sucking at his chest.

Suddenly a loud 'Bang, Bang Bang' sounds against Steve's front door followed by the sound of Robin's voice.

"Hey, Steve! You almost ready to go?"

It's then that you look across at the clock on Steve's bedside table and realise that the three of you have thirty minutes to get to your Saturday morning shift at Family Video.

Steve's eyes widen as he looks down at you in panic after hearing Robin's voice.

"Oh Shit," You whisper against Steve's chest. "Sorry big boy, looks like it's gonna have to just be a quickie for now."

"Wha- OH! OH FUCK YES!" His fingers bruise into your side as his grip on you tightens. Your hand griping him tighter, working faster, harder on his leaking shaft.

"Shhh! Do you want Robin to hear you?" You whisper, now back at his lips.

"Hey Dingus! You coming or what!" Robin shouts again. You and Steve share a small chuckle at the pun your friend has unwittingly made.

Steve turns his head and calls out, "I'll be there in a minute Robin!" Then he turns back to you, his hips now thrusting into your hand, chasing his high now that he has to be quick anyway.

You brush his hair back with the hand not already occupied with his throbbing, hot cock. You can tell he's getting close, his movements getting sloppier. You lean in to kiss him, tongues tangling together. Hand still running softly through his hair, you lean back and whisper to him.

"Well Harrington? You heard her, you Cumming or what?"

His hips stutter as his load spills over into your hand. Steve's jaw clenches as his mouth is screwed shut tight. Aware that he can't make too much noise, Steve let's out a series of the most beautifully pathetic whimpers you think you've ever heard.

You stare at the pure euphoria in his eyes, his lips parted and realise that he's still cumming. You look down to see his cock still spurting out thick loads of white hot cum. Pouring out of the tip and making a creamy lake on his belly. It continues to throb and leak until finally, he goes soft in your hand and Steve, thoroughly spent, sighs in relief, sits up a little and looks down at the mess you've made of him.

His eyes go wide.

"Oh my god, was that all me?"

You laugh, "Yup," You look at his belly, "Well, I haven't had breakfast yet."

Steve looks at you puzzled, "Wha-" he's stopped by the sight of you licking and slurping up his cum and he whimpers again. You lick your tongue up his cock and fit the whole shaft into your mouth, cleansing him of his own cum. His cock jolts in your mouth in overstimulation and leaks a tiny bead as you pop off of him with one last lick at the salty droplet.

"STEVE! We have twenty-three minutes til work, what's taking you so long!" Robin shouts from outside again.

"Oh shit, I forgot she was there," Steve sighs.

You laugh at his expression, "Look, you go and clean yourself up, I'll get dressed, tell Robin your in the shower and that you'll meet us in the car."

"But what about-"

"If anyone asks, we watched a movie last night and I fell asleep before you could drive me home okay?"

Steve breathes a sigh of relief at your brief but not unusual explanation as to why you would've spent the night here.

"Okay, I'll meet you guys in the car in ten. Its a good job FV isn't a long drive," Steve huffs out a laugh. He looks over at you, now standing up from his bed, still wearing his shirt, your hair tousled from last nights and this mornings activities. "Hey," He leans into you, "I'll pay you back for this morning later, don't think I didn't notice that you didn't get yours."

Steve winks, gives you a short kiss on the lips and sends a quick slap to your arse as he heads towards his en-suite.

You stand there, heart thumping in your chest and slightly stunned at how quickly Steve had managed to have you blushing after the mess you'd made of him only minutes ago. But before you could dwell on it much longer you hear Robin hollering again.

"Seriously Steve! Are you masturbating or something! What's taking you so long?!"

Slipping on your own clothes over one of Steve's tighter fitted pairs of boxers, you go downstairs and prepare yourself to face Robin.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington masterlist #fwb steve harrington #fwb steve #family video steve #st4 #post season 4 #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #smut

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 15 days

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04/14/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Ruibo, Samba, Vico; Watch Party Reminders; Fan Spotlight; Cast Cards; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; s1 script; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

= Ruibo Qian =

Our Pirate Queen once again asks us to think some important questions of ourselves.

= Samba Cameo =

Some of our crewmates got another Cameo from Samba! This one was requested by The Bardflies! It's fantastic and full of Shakespeare!

Thank you so much The Bardflies for sharing this cameo! Source: Cameo

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico apparently has made some more changes to their Patreon and have updated their IG to let everyone know! Here's a link! Vico's patreon

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Today we're on Season 1 Ep 11 and 12. Join @saveofmdcrewmates, and @iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== Fan Spotlight ==

== S1 Script Pics ==

Some of you may have noticed one of our crewmates posted several pictures of some of the original S1 script. Some juicy stuff in there if you're interested! Visit @amefuyuu's tumblr below :)

== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==

Our crewmates over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction are giving away two Samba Cameo's! You can Enter by Following the IG Account. liking the post, and adding a comment tagging a friend who would appreciate a Cameo from Samba!

= Cast Cards =

I 100% did not realize that was Pete Gardner! That's awesome! Tonight is the Dutch Captain Cast Card by our darling @melvisik!

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ==

FYI! Prompt release will happen on April 16th instead of 15th in consideration of Global Strike for Palestine Monday April 15th.

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I know it's been a crazy week or so... tax time, all the random sightings of Chaos Dad, WBD being a POS. I know a lot of you are hurting pretty bad right now, and not sure where to vent your frustrations.

Just remember that it's okay to step away, and it's okay to not engage with things you don't feel like you can stomach. It doesn't mean you're not allowed in that space, and it doesn't make you a bad person. You are allowed to shine as bright as you are, but you can also choose which places get to bask in that light. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to shine. You are allowed to find the places that your sunshine helps others to grow and vice versa.

We aren't all going to get along all the time, as much as I'd love the world to be in that kind of space to allow for it. We've all been hurt, and we've all been through things in this life that have made us no longer trust people and places. I hope that one day, along with this awesome crew we can make a better space for everyone, and even if not all of us can get along all the time, that all of us find our ways to people who we feel safe with.

Remember that you are so kind, and you are so worthy. Some days it doesn't feel like it. Some days others try to take that from you. But that's what you are. You are worthy of love, and safety, and you are so very beautiful. Remember the kindness in your heart, and try not to let folks snuff it out. I know it's there, and I believe in you.

I really hope you all get some rest tonight lovelies, or soon, you deserve a break. The world can be very hard, but you are the soft, bright ball of love it needs, don't forget that.

It's gonna be okay.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme: Arms

Darby Gif courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif Courtesy of @mulder-isms

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ruibo qian #vico ortiz #samba schutte #cameo #taika waititi #rhys darby #s1 script

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cleolinda · 7 months

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Creepypasta: The Dionaea House (2004-2006)

I wanted to post a few of my favorite creepypasta/Weird Internet Fiction stories this month, so of course one of the first I looked up was "The Dionaea House." Dated somewhere back around 2004-2006, it's one of the earliest entries in the genre; I’m not sure how many people know about it now, but Back in the Day, it was one of the creepypasta classics. Then, while researching all this, I discovered to my utter astonishment that it was written by Eric Heisserer—who wrote the Oscar-nominated screenplay for Arrival and is currently best known here, I'd bet, as the show runner of Netflix’s Shadow and Bone.

Years ago, the story was at dionaea-house.com (now offline), and it was the kind of thing you'd stumble across somehow—maybe on a friend's recommendation, maybe from a forum discussion—and then lose yourself in for a whole afternoon. It starts out as the story of a fictionalized Eric posting the emails of an old buddy, Mark, who's trying to figure out why their friend Drew... snapped. And "Eric" is posting these emails because Mark now has disappeared. And before too long... someone else has to pick up the story. Because it turns out that, at the heart of the mystery, there is a house, and going to that house is a mistake. I would describe it a little like House of Leaves, except also smelling like cake, and projecting out to multiple locations rather than pulling you into one infinite labyrinth. Also, a shit ton easier to read.

Relatively speaking, at least. "The Dionaea House" started out as “emails” posted on a blog at that original URL [unofficial mirror], then spun out into a Blogspot, an AIM chat, two separate Livejournals, and multiple commenters interacting on them. Some of them seem to be strangers walking in off the street, as it were, but the trick is, we don’t know which commenters are part of the story, which gives the “flesh puppet” comments, for example, a weird jolt of realism:

(I would like to think “TELL THE HOUSE TO FUCK OFF” is one of the in-story commenters, honestly; I like to think this is who I’d be in a horror story.)

So while "The Dionaea House" doesn't have the single-minded realism of "Ted the Caver," the blog-and-comment format—a found document subgenre for the 21st century—also allows for multiple perspectives. (I’ve lost count of the number of protagonists the house consumes, but it’s at least three, maybe four.) Tumblr is currently in year two of the Dracula Daily read-along, and I’ve always argued that Dracula was a techno-thriller for the nineteenth century: correspondence, newspaper articles, diaries, and even audio journaling on a phonograph. Emails, blogs, chats, phone messages, comments, and an article about the murder-suicide that starts the story—“The Dionaea House” is pretty much in the same multi-perspective, multimedia genre. Unlike Stoker’s bound novel, however, “The Dionaea House” wanders the physical space of the internet, and it trusts that either you'll see that the story has a new branch, or you won't, and that's okay.

In fact, I'm not sure if Eric Heisserer didn't know how to bring the story to a conclusion, or he got busy and couldn't keep going—or maybe there is an ending and I just never found it. (The Loreen Mathers blog doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me and seems like one giant loose end, although the mention of engineer-occultist Jack Parsons adds a new dimension at the last minute.) But as with "Ted the Caver," the lack of a concrete ending makes sense for a shaggy dog story like this, as frustrating as it might be. Maybe Loreen got got, just like everyone else! Isn’t “disappearing before explaining what the hell she’s talking about” exactly what that would look like? We don’t know! If there's a scary house and you manage to burn it down to the ground in a complex denouement, that's a story. If there's a scary house out there, somewhere, and we'll never know how it came to be or what happened to the people who tried to take it on—that's a creepypasta. That’s a legend.

#creepypasta #internet fiction #first look on patreon #horror #spooky season #halloween everyday #long post

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midnightsnyx · 1 year

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I guess I’m in love | jack hughes social media au | post 3

disclaimer: photo credit to all original owners. they were found on google/pinterest/etc

authors note: sometimes i wonder if someone on tumblr will randomly see a picture of themselves being used for a social media au lol anyways tysm for the love on this little series.if you've got any requets for blurbs or insta edits send them! masterpost here

ynzegras

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tagged: jackhughes

ynzegras thankful for Jack who patiently waits while I stare at paintings all day

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jackhughes not hard when I had the best view ⤷ ynzegras you're the best🖤 ⤷ user1 I need a Jack😭 ⤷ trevorzegras how many did she drag you to?

nsuzuki_37 she really can spend hours staring at one painting ⤷ ynzegras gotta find inspiration somewhere

user2 she's really living the life all of us want

ynzegras

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, and others

tagged: stellataylor

ynzegras brb dealing with baby fever 🥺 my best friend & her husband need to stop creating perfect angels

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trevorzegras you're not even married!! ⤷ ynzegras alright grandma ⤷ trevorzegras didn't mom raise you right

jackhughes I'm down ⤷ trevorzegras STOP IT ⤷ ynzegras kk see you tonight

stellataylor can't wait for little baby zegras- hughes to be running around!! ⤷ _quinnhughes I'm not

colecaufield me and Nick expect to be honourary uncles of your future children ⤷ ynzegras of course! ⤷ nsuzuki_37 we'll see if you can trust Cole with your kid

#hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #allies writing #fake insta post #hockey imagine #fake instagram #fake social media #hockey social media au #social media au #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes insta edit #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic

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art-bvrn · 1 month

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windows to the soul

✧ socials ✧ inprnt ✧ kofi ✧

we often hear about how eyes are the windows to the soul. i wanted to capture each of the origin companions’ eyes (souls) during the height of their personal quests. so here’s the thought process/background of each drawing:

SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE GAME

Astarion - when he looks towards Tav, asking them to help him complete the ritual. how desperate he looks to be free of the torment but also how conflicted he is deep down at having to sacrifice all the spawn. he knows now that cazador was just like him. but the power blinds him to the fact that he will become another cazador.

Gale - when he shares a moment of peace with Tav, watching the conjured sky as he accepts his death. he’ll sacrifice his life for a god who doesn’t care for him, thinking it’s for the best. a god that has taken years of his life and groomed him as a child. he doesn’t see any of that. he only sees that dying will atone for sins that are not even his to begin with.

Karlach - when she defeats enver gortash - the man who was responsible for her pain. yet, it doesn’t help her. it doesn’t bring back all the years she lost. it doesn’t take away the torment. it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dying. there is no glory and no vindication. only this overbearing despair.

Lae’zel - when she looks towards the sky with Tav. she has believed in her god. killed for her. bled for her. but her god is false. everything she believes to be true is not. she doesn’t know how to grieve the loss of her self - of ambitions unfulfilled. her love and pride for her people lay in limbo - a place where she has no choice but to face all these painful questions alone.

Shadowheart - when Tav tells her to do whatever she feels is right. that someone trusts her to trust herself - someone who only remembers bits and pieces of her life. she, who has unknowingly devoted her entire life to a god, now falters, knowing she will be punished for her blasphemy, and ultimately, her betrayal.

Wyll - when the devil asks him to renew his contract to save his father. sweet, young, wyll. only a child when he was cast out yet his love for his father - the man responsible for his exile, a man who he has not seen in years - remains steadfast. ultimately, neither choice grants him his freedom. not from guilt and not from mizora.

NOTE:

hello! i really wasn’t expecting that much love on my previous uploads for the bg3 characters 😭 to be honest i was expecting maybe the occasional bot but to have real people like and reblog and say nice things has truly been amazing!!!

i’ve always been a lurker more than a poster (aside from that one time in 2015 i tried to write imagines for fallout) so i’m still learning proper tumblr etiquette and what not

idk how to respond to the people who reblog and say such nice things in the tags 😭 but know that i see it and appreciate it fully <3

anyway thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, and/or commenting!!! :))

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irontragedyreview · 25 days

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I'm going to be honest, I wasn't going to write about the leaks in this chapter (I still like to see more leakers posting about this, especially those I trust the most), but if there is something more obnoxious than the shipper discurse, that is the men discurse and the way in which they interpret the characters in shonen, because believe me, shonen is a genre where the worst takes by men on characters are concentrated, especially when you talk about the side emotional. Seriously, many men have not left their edgy child phase who believes that the world is horrible and that the characters have to see reality, etc., outside of the children/teenagers who watch the shonen genre more than anything for the fights, etc. many men who literally have hundreds of followers who analyze the stories as if they were experts on the subject, from the most toxic masculinity perspective.

Also, in all the previous chapters I wanted to do an analysis about Tomura and Izuku but no matter how much I wanted, the words didn't come, these leaks plus certain comments managed to unlock my words.

I'm going to start with Tomura because he's the birthday boy. The takes I have read of this character throughout the manga, especially outside tumblr and by men, are terrible, however nothing compares to the comments after these leaks, from people saying that it was great because his character didn't deserve redemption, that at the end was nothing more than a puppet of AFO and therefore his construction doesn’t matter or not exist because Tomura for them didn’t exist outside as an object for AFO, etc. One of the insights that chapter 418 left is that Tomura/Tenko has never made a single decision in his life and that his path has always been marked and signed by AFO. Those words remained in the minds of the readers and were validated by the fact that the origin of Decay was made by AFO and even Tenko’s birth was planned by AFO, because again AFO is the villain of thousand plans and is in every step. Seriously, Tenko was only born to be another pawn in AFO's game, because according to the leaks AFO created him and therefore even Tomura's decisions are only a permitted ramification of what AFO wanted him to feel and think.

However, it’s a damn lie, it doesn't matter that AFO was a starting point for Tomura, his ideas, his relationships with the LOV, are HIS. It’s that he chose, not for nothing his last words before of being swallowed by AFO were "even if all my hatred fades and only an empty shell remains, I must still be a hero for them (the villains/his LOV)” it’s the first time since the final battle began that Tomura looked closer to peace and his words were reflected in being a hero for his people, the helpless who are abandoned by society. Likewise, another of the things that was repeated during his confrontation with Izuku, it was wanting to make it clear that he wasn’t human, that nothing more but destruction would be his salvation. In the same way he repeats that he killed his family because it was his will, because someone like him was born "rotten", his quirk marked him to be only destruction. This was even repeated by AFO, the constant search for Tomura to internalize that what happened was something he was looking for and we’re aware that it’s a lie. The decay's "awakening" was a traumatic event that was exacerbated for Kotaro, who beat his son and instilled fear in him, not for nothing Tenko was having a breakdown when his quirk "awakened", he didn’t want to kill Mon-chan, his sister, his mother or family, he was a scared child who just wanted to reach a safe place. The only death where Tenko could say that he has a minimum will is with Kotaro but ignoring the context is a mistake.

It’s not innocent that during the fight in the fortress Tenko would have felt more violent and resurfaced when he saw how all the heroes around him gave their lives to revive bk, we have him screaming "why no one helped me when there was still time, when I wasn't that broken yet" (not exact words but a paraphrase), Tenko was still there fighting against AFO, Tenko never disappeared no matter how hard AFO tried to quell him, the pain of a society that ignored him formed his vision of a heroes society like something rotten, the vision of All Might as the hero who shapes a society that hides everything among shiny things but forgets those that the heroes ignore or not fit in.

Because something that we can’t ignore that the society that gave rise to villains like Tomura and even AFO, is an apathetic and cruel society to people that doesn’t fit. We can argue that beyond all the things that AFO has done, perhaps he wouldn’t be what he is now if he had not grown up in a society that had just discovered the quirks and saw some of them as monsters and others as something to worship (he kills the shine baby because he was praised), society is so apathetic that it ignores or encourages a cruelty that creates its villains and then is surprised by it. Tomura is also the result of those people who saw a child walking in the streets in shock and stained with blood and passed by and when a single person approached him, just looked at him and said well the heroes will take care of it, leaving him alone. Maybe nothing would have changed because AFO already had a plan for Tomura but the apathy of that society that prefers to ignore responsibility (I'm not talking about citizens having to enter burning buildings replacing professionals, but doing small things, helping people in a small way example helping a lost child, etc). A society that was happy with someone like All Might protected them but when he began to fail and couldn’t take his place turned their backs on him, the same citizens who are seeing children fighting a war and the only thing they think about is losing faith when the results are adverse or when they had to give a safe place to civilians like them or heroes like Deku.

It’s this society that Tomura wants to destroy and it’s understandable because, we can discuss whether the way Tomura wants to do it is correct or not, but let's not deny that Tomura gave a place to people that society pushed away because they didn’t fit in and that he wants protect. What I'm trying to get at is that everything that shaped Tomura and his decisions to create the LOV are his decisions, he isn’t a puppet and his vision isn’t to be a pawn just because AFO gave him his quirk, his vision of society isn’t wrong, Tomura chose his path, he chose his people. Izuko's analysis will come shortly because this analysis was too long for me.

#Tomura Shigaraki #Tenko Shimura #bnha 419 #bnha leaks #my boy deserve a lot better that he gets #he isn't a pawn #bnha meta #league of villains #lov bnha #izuku midoriya #deku #midoriya izuku

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