#burying this in the tags but sometimes the story world in my head feels more real than my own life

[thelostboys87]

my experience as an autistic writer is my silly little story honestly feels like an alternate version of this universe that i just have access to for some reason and spectate which is why it feels so real because as far as im concerned it is real what else would it feel like to have entire lives playing out inside your head? but i don’t think i can just say that to people unless they feel the same 👍

[starillusion13]

Imagine your friends!NCT are secretly mafias, falling in love with you…

[I’m doing with my bias line so if your bias is missing means they are my bias wreckers and as am being ot23(I will always be their supporter so don’t expect I love any of the members less) please read the end note.]

Remember this is my top bias line:

Lee Taeyong

Being the leader of the biggest mafia gang, NCT he is very passionate about his life. Never for once he thought of getting you in his life. An innocent but suicidal girl but also a very daring girl. He is attracted to you because of your multiple personalities and this is the reason he finds you different from other girls. He is good at pretending that he is not getting attracted to you day by day or simply he is deeply in love with you. But what about you? No one knows as you are just friends with him, a very close one. It’s a very simple story. But the problem is that you are only familiar with mafias in story book but you don’t know the dark secrets of your cute and handsome friend, Lee Taeyong.

Kim Doyoung

Your most caring friend who literally takes care of you like an older brother but he has made it clear not to call him your brother. He treats you more than you ever need. He takes you on luxury friendly dates when Taeyong(his bestfriend) is busy or that man would not leave his chance to tag along( you are afterall spending his money even with Doyoung). His gummy smile is everything you need before going to work. Those gummy smiles hide the devilish smirk when he is torturing his victim brutally and his sharp eyes watching the helpless condition of them. But to you, he can heal your every pain as a true friend.

Jung Jaehyun

the most charming guy you have ever met. Anyone would want him as their boyfriend including you but you bet he has girlfriend as you feel he hides things from you and that can be possible if it’s his gf. Once late at night you came across him on the streets and you thought him as any celebrity and that’s how your friendship began. He has the show-off attitude and would always buy you costly dresses, jewelry and other accessories and urge you to wear them on friendly dates and workplace. He has this possessiveness in his every move and words as if he owns you. He is a loyal NCT mafia member who has swear not to get distract by anything but why he is losing his mind for you.

Lee Mark

the sweetest and the most innocent guy. You feel this urge to protect this silly boy from this cruel world. Cruel world? He is a walking devil with a facade of innocence. His silly speech, his innocent heartily laughs and his securing embrace is like alluring you to trust him with your whole. But it’s a trap to keep you close. You don’t know how his awkward behaviors in front of you are just the opposite when he plants bullets in his enemy’s head and throat. His soft big and innocent eyes are the dangerous hell-hole for his victims.

Lee Jeno

well, you doubt him as a gangster sometimes because of his physique and personality. But He can’t be because next moment he is giving off his eye smile melting your heart along with his sweet gestures. A perfect soft boyfriend with some dominating aura. He likes to order you around like those are simple and sweet but somehow he has that controlling attitude. His helpless and worried expression if you are hurt for some reason is just the opposite from the one when he makes sure to burn the victim or bury it 6-feet under and his eyes burning with the rage of revenge, nowhere to be seen those cute eyes looking at you in awe and adoration.

Lee Haechan

a playful menace. You question sometimes why you are being friends with him in first place. His teasings are out of hand and loses your mind but the next moment he is the dearest friend to you. But you have fun with him in sleepovers, sneaking out for late night long drives playing ‘Highway to Heaven’ and he sings along the song’s bridge, his fav part ‘oh she’s so bad, I’ll make it last’ and looks at you in your eyes. Even behind his mischievousness, there is a lover boy. He cuddles you to comfort and a perfect bestfriend and you are thankful for such a nice friend. But you don’t know that the annoying boy with heavenly vocals is a hacker of the ruthless mafia gang, NCT.

Na Jaemin

a total cat person. He even has an insta account for his cats and mentioned himself as their father and you as their mother. A boy with heart on his sleeves and he doesn’t let a moment to fall in vain without making you blush. A family man and not gonna lie you have a little crush on him. His endearments and sweet gestures always make you feel like that you are a couple and sometimes some people even assume it. Even if you deny it, he proudly smiles and agrees with them. But this sweet Angel boy is the devil who can shoot someone and bury them in a stance and then act like he tugged his cats in bed to sleep.

I’m writing such above things just casually because even if it’s late at night yet am not feeling sleepy😭 actually I was preparing a NCT! Mafia draft so felt like sharing some imagines. If you guys need any particular member imagine then you can send me asks(also Yuta Lucas Renjun Ten Yangyang and Kun are also in my bias list tho🥹)

Should I make a NCT! Mafia series with my bias line x reader? Of course after finishing ‘Like We Just Met’?

Perma Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon [open!]

[dancingtotuyo]

All Farms…

Javier Peña

Summary: Javier has to decide what to do with the ranch

Warnings/Tags: grief, loss, hurt (no comfort?), ranch/farm used interchangeably here.

Notes: I started this on Christmas after walking my grandparents farm which happens to be the same farm I lived on for the first 7 years of my life. My grandparents are getting older which has sparked a lot of conversation with what will happen to the farm when they're gone. Fast forward to now, I'm currently processing a lot of feelings this Easter weekend. I lost my step dad last year. He was a farmer too. After his cancer diagnosis, all of us kids (there are ALOT of us) came home for Easter. It was the last time I saw him look like himself and the last time we were all together before he died. In my processing, I started working on this piece again. It's one of those things I need to put out into the world for me. I hope for anyone else going through something similar, it brings you comfort or makes you feel not quite so alone.

Peep the cow picture. I took that one myself at Christmas :)

Words: 966

Author Master List

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. Typically along a ridge or tree line, piled-up equipment that was never sold or broken beyond repair sits in overgrown piles and sunken earth. The old family car. The beat-up sports car or pickup truck each son or sometimes daughter inevitably thought they could fix only to spend hundreds of fruitless hours with one glory ride before it went haywire. Scrap metal torn from barn roofs pile up. Every tire imaginable is half buried in the earth. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. The moment you do, you’ll find use or need for the items thrown out. 

The Peńa’s graveyard sits between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill. Javier rarely makes his way to that side of the farm. They don’t use that space for cattle since his dad downsized the herd. He pretends there’s no reason for it, but it’s more than just broken down cars and scrap piles to Javier. It’s a ghost town of memories. 

There’s his mom’s ‘62 Ford. The one she drove his whole childhood. The vehicle that took them across town, to Sunday services, and hosted their many road trips. It’s where his Mom feels most tangible, her soft voice playing in his head singing to the radio. 

His first truck. The one he’d spent months fixing up, he kissed Sally Jones on a Saturday night and done much more with Vanessa Reyes. He’s proposed to Lorraine in that truck, driven past the church in it too. 

Chucho’s first American Harvester sits further back. His dad is so proud of that machine… or he was. 

The ache grows in Javier’s chest as he stands at the edge of the graveyard. He begged Chucho for years to clean this up. His dad always waved him off, stating that he would get to it someday. Except, Chucho didn’t make it to someday, and now it is Javier’s responsibility.  

His fingers twitch, desperate for the feel of a cigarette between them. Nicorette gum sits in his breast pocket instead. He’s working to quit again, picking the worst damn time to do it, but that’s life. 

He should probably bring the tractor down to pull everything out. It’s overwhelming with no good place to start. Digging around down there will only dig up the memories. Javier can’t deal with the memories right now, so he leaves the project for another day. He only needs to clean it up if he decides to sell the ranch. 

The house is quiet when he walks through the door. Javier is used to the subtle sounds of life- the coffee pot going, the tv running on low, Chucho’s boots on the linoleum, but it never comes. It won’t ever come again. 

Javier kicks off his boots, lining them right next to his dad’s. He hasn’t moved them. He’s not sure he will. 

He heads for the back of the house toward his room but stops at his Dad’s door. It’s shut tight as he places a hand on the wood. Javier hasn’t gone in there since picking out clothes. It’s a strange thing to pick out clothes for a dead man. How does one pick out what someone will wear for the rest of eternity? 

His hand lands on the knob, and it gives way with a squeak. The same squeak that used to echo down the hall, waking Javier up before the sun to let him know it was time for chores. Javier is flooded with the comforting scent of his father. It envelopes him, pulling tears into his eyes immediately. The bed is fixed just as Chucho had left it before he went out and started the chores just as he always did. Except that day, almost a month ago now, Chucho Peña didn’t return to the house. 

He collapsed in the field. He was already gone when Javier found him. He died alone and that hurt almost as much as the fact that he was gone. 

A thin layer of dust covers the surfaces in the room. He should clean it, but would it lose its smell then? In here, Javier feels surrounded by his father. The closest he can get to him. His room, the one he shared with Javier’s mother, is perfectly preserved. 

Javier dares to ease onto the bed and look at the world from Chucho’s perspective every day as he woke up. On the dresser, there’s a photo of his parents when they first started dating, and one from Javier’s high school graduation. On the bedside table, there’s a book with a bookmark halfway through, a picture from his parent’s wedding day, and another of Chucho on the tractor with Javier in his lap. He couldn’t have been older than two at the time. Javier traces it with his finger, wishes he could remember that moment, wishes he could go back in time and relive it all, even the bad days, and treasure it all, ask his dad more questions, called him more often.

Javier lays down on his parents' bed. Chucho’s scent is thicker here with Javier’s head on his pillow. Big, hot tears fall from the corners of his eyes dampening the pillow. He rests his hands over his chest, letting his eyes close. Javier can hear his voice now, his laughter, catches a hint of his mother’s as well. It’s Javier’s job to carry on their legacy.

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. When a tractor kicks the dust or that farm use pickup can only be stripped for parts, Javier follows in his father’s footsteps. He lays them to rest between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill.

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~!

Oh hey it's actually Wednesday already! I have been tagged by a great deal of amazing people! Let's see -- @kookaburra1701, @ladytanithia, and @skyrim-forever! I'm tagging the similarly fantastic: @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @thequeenofthewinter, @dirty-bosmer, @wildhexe, @expended-sleeper, @throughtrialbyfire, @elfinismsarts, @rainpebble3, @saltymaplesyrup, @gilgamish, @tallmatcha, @archangelsunited, @snippetsrus, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @nuwanders and YOU. Yes you. Please absolutely consider yourself tagged and tag me back if you post! Here's a snip of chapter 30 of The World on Our Shoulders. Some of you may have seen versions of this before :> More soggy emotions, because, of course. OF COURSE.

Teldryn buried his face in his hands and Geldis squeezed his shoulder. He let the silence wash over him — not that it was actually silent. The crowd left him anonymous, another sad fool alone at a bar, which, to be honest, was for the best.

“She doesn’t want me here, either. She wants to go home, back to just…everything she had before. Even after what we’ve survived. Even after realizing what we are,” Teldryn said. He picked at the sweetroll again, crumbling it onto the plate. “She doesn’t owe me anything, of course. I was the s’wit who thought for half a second the feeling was mutual. And clearly, I was wrong.”

“Did you ask?” Geldis asked. Teldryn glared at his friend.

“Oh, I don’t know, Geldis. Did I ask my married friend if she lo — ” He paused and cleared his throat. “No, I didn’t ask her.” He sighed heavily again and crossed his arms over his chest, mind filled with the iciness of the distance she’d put between them, even after everything. A whole northern sea, dark waves to drag him under and everything. He’d added to it, too, not innocent at all in the endeavor. He shivered. “I didn’t have to.”

“You’re an idiot, Teldryn Sero, that’s what you are,” Geldis said evenly and put up a hand to prevent him from protesting this. “You’re gonna carry this around until it tears you apart instead of resolving it — just like a hundred other issues I’ve seen you struggle through. And you know what? It is, in the end, up to you to make the changes instead of cozying up in the corner over there deep in your cups, becoming another mess I’ve got to clean up.” He leaned in and shook Teldryn’s shoulder. “Even if it’s a no, it doesn’t mean this is the end of the world. But clear the air, for Gods’ sakes. And let her go if that’s what she wants. Plenty of fish in the sea, no matter what you believe about fate and other nonsense.”

Fate and other nonsense indeed.

He didn’t say anything at first. Geldis understood part of this, in his way, but not the entire story. Not the echo. Not the gravity of the situation Nyenna was about to face. Teldryn had lost someone he’d loved before due to the trappings — or failings — of heroism, watching across a vast expanse of sand as the earth quaked under his feet, leagues away from the damage. The Red Year, not long after he’d chosen to leave everything behind. A whole life he’d refused, a whole person he could have been instead of…this. He was no stranger to wrong choices and the urge to simply…run away. To put it all behind you and keep going. From an ultimatum or a destiny, it didn’t matter — the cause was the same. Guilt, fear, grief, and a deep unshakable conviction that you are simply not good enough. And have never been.

Sometimes she visited him in his nightmares, the one he’d left for the job in Elsweyr. She was still so clear in his head, almost two hundred years later, like he had only just turned from her offer of peace. When the horrors faded and left room for regret, he felt the memory of her hands held tight in his like the ghost of a missing limb. Every so often, he swore he could still smell the light scent of her coda flower perfume, her own recipe mixed with sweetbarrel blossoms and the spice of juniper. There was never a time back then when his mind hadn’t been occupied with feeling stuck, so why did she still torture him like this? It was as if she served as a haunting reminder of what could happen the second he let himself be seen. It would all be gone from him in a flash, and then what?

He did not deserve peace. Not then, not now. Part of him was still convinced all of this chaos with Nyenna was just another extraction of debt due to one God or the next for that specific misstep. Sometimes he could go years without remembering. Years soaked in Sujamma, true, but years nevertheless. But then, times like these? Given the chance to start over, it seemed he never quite could. Or perhaps he was never quite worthy. He both wanted to walk away and couldn’t.

Geldis was right in a way. Maybe if he cleared the air, then he could go and prevent another disaster. Or try. And then it could be the same as it’d always been. Square one. And Nyenna would fade from his memory, same as the rest, eventually, no matter how long it took. He had eternity, anyway. It would be better this way. Hurt less, if he was lucky, if he could find the words to begin with.

Sure. You keep telling yourself that, you s’wit.

He wanted another Sujamma, but he knew it would do him no good. He took the sweetroll that he hadn’t crumbled to nothing and bit into it like an apple. There were things to do to prepare for the trip to Skyrim. Geldis would have to accept the subject change. He wasn’t going to bring up things that had been done with long before Geldis was even born.

[shanaraharlyah]

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by the amazing @snowfolly, to post something I'm working on. Thank you sweetie! 🤗

Sharing the last couple paragraphs I wrote for A Life Together WIP. It's a short Hogwarts Legacy story taking place 10 years after the events of the game, in which Hellendil and Sebastian have built a life together, but still sometimes struggle with the events of fifth year.

“Oh, Sebastian,” Hellendil pulled him close again, strong arms holding him gently but firmly against his chest.  He rested his cheek against Sebastian's head, dark curls tickling his nose.  “What would have happened if we’d never met?  If I’d never gotten my letter? Maybe you would have been better off.  Without access to the scriptorium you wouldn't have found the catacomb, the relic…  Maybe I really was the bad influence Ominis thought I was.”  He paused then, an ache forming in his own chest over the thought that he could be the cause of so much anguish for the man he loved.  Closing his eyes to fight back his own tears, he willed himself past the troubling thought.  He needed to be strong for Sebastian’s sake.  “Or perhaps things would be worse.  Ranrok would have successfully claimed the last repository and succeeded in eliminating wizardkind.” He paused again, as much for emphasis as to hold his own emotions in check.  “We’ll never know.  Too many variables would have changed for us to ever predict any of that.  And none of it matters anyway, because we did meet and I’m here with you now.  If I had the chance to do it all again, I’d still choose you.  You don't have to worry about what if, Sebastian.  We're here, together.  We survived everything the world threw at us and we have each other.  And I-I’d like nothing more than to grow old with you.”   His words had undoubtedly gotten through to him as Sebastian slid his arms around him, squeezing him back before burying his face in the crook of his neck.  The feel of his embrace quieted Hellendil's mind.  The tension he’d started holding in his shoulders released.  A worried smile formed on his face and he breathed deeply, inhaling Sebastian’s scent and letting out a soft sigh.    The pair sat entangled for a long moment taking in every sensation, every small movement of the other's body.  The warm breath on their skin.  The rise and fall of their chest with each breath.  The soft beating of one another's heart.  Being present in the moment was what they both needed right now.  

Tagging @slothssassin @ominisss @boxdstars @sillyliterature @raflesia65 @tessa1972 @anto-pops and anyone else who has something to share! 😊 And no pressure!

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Ya know what tbqh I'm having a lot more fun interacting with SJM since deciding to hash tag stan tamlin but also what grinds my gears!?!? What butters my fucking croissants!?!?!

Tamlin has HOBBIES.

No no. Seriously. I have a point. Listen:

We know the following pieces of information about the Spring Court/Tamlin in ACOTAR: Most of the government falls squarely on Tamlin's shoulders because most of the old guard and the former sentries are dead, because they left the Spring Court to search for a "cure." He and Lucien actively patrol their borders and hunt for monsters that threaten humans and faeries alike. Taxes are collected once a year via the Tithe, but Tamlim absolishes the Tithe during Amarantha's rule. There are no cities. There is almost no distinction in the Court between High Fae and "lesser fae." He was a victim of abuse via his father and two much older brothers. Human slaves used to be common, but Tamlin finds his family history abhorrent and considers himself a protector type. He personally took Lucien to another Court for healing after Amarantha damaged his eye in a way that Tamlin himself could not fix. A faerie dies in his living room and Tamlin personally buries him. Tamlin takes refugees from other courts. The most important holiday is Calanmai, wherein Tamlin sacrifices his bodily autonomy and gets possessed by a god (?) in order to generate magic during the changing of seasons. He can be grouchy but he has a sense of humor; he writes silly poems for fun and plays music well enough that Feyre thinks he could make an actual career of it.

A lot of this gets re-conned, re-framed as "conservative" and sometimes actively ignored in order to attribute more positive qualities to Rhys - who in ACOTAR, is shown to be a manipulative liar who commits murder for fun and drugs/assaults Feyre. Tamlin clearly suffers from PTSD in ACOMAF but his symptoms are not "noble" or cute like Feyre. The narrative postulates that while Feyre needs to learn that she's worthy of love and freedom and that her dark past doesnt define her, Tamlin needs to be "redeemed" because his trauma is not as important or as valid as hers, and he can't be worthy of help until he repents for his "crime" of acting in ways that are - from his perspective- completely logical, and based in genuinely good/loving intentions.

In ACOWAR, Feyre states that she begins implanting/altering the memories of Tamlin in other people's heads to make them abandon him. She also steals a gift (presumably, a gift from Rhys to Tamlin) because she doesn't feel he deserves it, and contemplates burning down the rose garden which is pretty much all Tamlin has left of his mother.

This... does not make me hate Tamlin in the slightest. I read these books and actively struggle to hate him the way the narrative wants because everything about him is legitimately just tragic and pitiable.

While all this goes on the narrative goes on to reposition Rhysand - the guy who caused a lot of the main heroine trauma - as the best guy who ever lived. He's cruel to be kind, deeply misunderstood and hurting in silence. A martyr whose pain is just like the heroine's, who is an immortal ancient warrior king more powerful than any other person in the world but still somehow the narrative equal of a barely literate 20 year old woman. That sure is a choice and ya know what fine, whatever, I accept that this is the story I'm reading. But back to my earlier point:

What hobby does Rhysand have other than sex and fighting?

Answer me. Quickly.

The retcons with Tamlins character are annoying on their own because SJM clearly thinks her audience is too stupid to remember book one of her own series. But it's especially annoying for me given that Rhysand is a boring mouthpiece for the author to moralize her faerie books. As a character he's incredibly bland. There's nothing about him that's compelling because everything "bad" that he does is justified and righteous, and he can't be challenged or hurt because that would make Feyre (the other author mouthpiece) very sad. :(

Anyway remember to stan tamlin, send tweet.

[seethesunny]

Hi, lovely! Here’s some for the ask game. 🍓🥤🌻🪐

Hi friend, happy Saturday 🤲🏼❤ thank u lots for the ask! I always get bored haha

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

This is funny because I've always been a creative kid, so I would create my own stories inside my head and they eventually turned into some of the shows/books I liked- sometimes a mixture- and at the time I didn’t know that was called fanfiction! I have the vivid memory of snatching my mom's lavender Nokia cellphone to write in a notes app, that happened until I fell into the role-playing world for years and that only cemented my love for it, I fully got into writing seriously around five years since that but never posted, it was for that same group of friends only. So that's my backstory! I had given up on it for a number of reasons but I'm back in the fanfiction pit lol

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

Since I've been a tessjoel girlie from the beginning I'm pulling some of the hidden gems on FF dot net that some new fans may not know! These are all videogame tlou.

Starting with one of my favorite fics EVER (it is a habit to reread it monthly) written by Raff who is a legend and was a pioneer for them. This is an au that's technically canon compliant for the tone, a very straight-forward summary: Ellie is Tess and Joel's daughter, this is the little glimpses of how they raise her in the QZ:

@kokureno and I gush over this particular fic nonstop, college au with romcom elements, what's not to love?

This one is a curious case because while I read it previously, my mind was blown away when I finally read Dirt (also recommend it) then came back to it. Tess and Joel share a vulnerable moment and Tess realizes there is more to him than what she thought, pretty spot on character analysis:

This one is a Tess lives au AND a babyfic, and you know how hard it used to be to find babyfics for them specifically? Aside from signs (originally from FFnet), I wasn't that lucky and this was a blessing:

Someone said missing scene fic about a very necessary topic aka Joel and Ellie bringing up Tess during their journey? The old man HAS feelings??? Anyway, this is 100% canon to me:

This one is for those who are fans of Tess’s backstory in the old tlou storyline where she was the main antagonist/villain, which means she had a brother who was killed; in my heart this will always be her OG origin story honestly. Plus, Joel also opens up about his own loss:

Don't you love it when there's a recurring theme in your fic???? Tess and Joel's lives when they're running out of time, Tommy appears too, canon compliant:

Okay this one is on AO3 too, I get that, however I first found it here and anyway it has now been buried so! I'm showing it again. Tess's centered fic were a rarity so I know this one like the back of my hand, the most juicy gritty QZ life angst, it's also an origin story about her AND a character study, go wild:

Another one on AO3, but hear me out this IS them at their true core and a required reading for everyone to understand them and their dynamic perfectly, it's pretty sad and there's not much comfort but that's why it's so good. Also, the queen herself (amb) wrote it and this is my special dedication to her bc she cemented this Fandom alongside Raff and she's the best at pulling our heartstrings:

Those are some of my favs. I can't include every single one cause it would take me ages but there are so many more there that are worth a read. If you love them most at their ambiguous nature, the early fics filled the void and nurtured the mind.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

A really talented artist around here who's outstanding at what she does, ily chica @betweentwoceremonials

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

Last year I had an awful infection and it took me a while to get rid of it, but I did some medical analysis a few weeks ago and now I'm fine 🥳

This spot is for the people I love and love me in return, I never take it for granted!

Not to get too pessimistic bc I try to keep it light but I never thought I would reach my 20s and yet- I'm still here, and I'm proud of myself for it

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Ch 29

Chapter 29: "Fragmentos de mi alma en pedazos"

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Notes: Maya makes a decision....

Pairing: Idol!RM/Namjoon x OFC

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Rating: M (sexual scenes/sexual assault in prior chapters)

Status: Complete

Notes: Namjoon, Yoongi POV

-------------------------------------———

AN: Finished a lot earlier than I thought. "Smoke Sprite" definitely helped ignite the fuel I needed to finish this story.

NOTES: Mostly Namjoon’s POV/some Yoongi POV

***************************************

- December 2021 -

The Night of the Breakup

Namjoon needed to get out of the room. Needed distance from Maya. He was too angry and hurt to look at her. After months of being together, countless times of voicing how he felt, and he kept getting dismissed. He thought he knew her. He thought she knew him.

Sometimes he thought he saw it in her eyes—he thought he felt it. If he was being completely honest, believing she felt deeply for him had been the reason why he had given her so many passes these last few weeks. His emotions for her had evolved a while back ago. He had noticed it, but kept those emotions at bay, not wanting to rush things. Not wanting to pressure her. He thought all she needed was a little bit of time to come to terms with her own feelings for him. Because he was sure she felt similar.

But he had been wrong. If she felt for him the way he did for her, she wouldn’t have treated him like this. She wouldn’t have dismissed his words. Wouldn’t have lied.

It was painful to feel the way he did and it not be reciprocated. There were so many things he wanted to say to her but couldn’t. It was like he had to censor himself more and more when he was around her. He had never needed to be mindful of his words around Maya—he told his best friend everything. However, since becoming a couple, things had gotten worse with them.

Namjoon bathed in his anger and disappointment as he walked through the hotel. The staff didn’t follow him, clearly seeing he needed space. Needed time with his emotions.

After a couple of hours, he felt calm enough to head back to his room. It was a good thing he had calmed down because he felt a fan had spotted him. He didn’t want to chance it.

When he entered his room, her aroma was in every corner. Their carnal act lingered in the air. He went to the sliding doors that lead to the balcony. He opened them wide, wanting her scent gone. He might be calmer but was still angry at her.

Not wanting to be near the bed, he took a sheet from the closet and laid on the couch.

The remaining hours of the night were spent tossing and turning, getting little sleep. He kept replaying everything about the night. Replaying Maya’s refusal to let him in.

After years of friendship, how could she still keep him at a distance? And why lie to him? Had he not shown he was worthy of being let into her heart—her world?

His self-loathing that he managed to keep buried crawled to the surface. It had made its way up and was making him doubt everything about her. He questioned if Maya ever cared for him. Questioned if she ever saw him as more than just a sex toy.

Namjoon was awake when the alarm went off. He had two hours before he had to leave for the airport to meet his friends for their trip. He had set up the alarm yesterday. It was to go off with plenty of time for him to spend with Maya. He had planned on wrapping his arms around her as she slept on. She was a heavy sleeper. The only way she woke was with an alarm or her name being called.

As someone who was a light sleeper, Namjoon would think he would be jealous of how easy it was for her to stay asleep. But he genuinely was happy to see her rest so peacefully. He liked knowing she woke to him calling for her.

Today marked their 100 days together. He had planned to gently wake her and present her with a gift. Even though he was set to fly out today, he had planned out the few hours they would have together. Maya wasn’t one to be sentimental, not being much of a fan of materials, but he was certain of the jewelry he had bought her. He, too, wasn’t one to lavish on gifts, but he liked the idea of splurging on her.

He could play the scenario in his head: after giving her the gift, she would have given him that smile that always melted him. She would have attacked him with kisses. Maybe they would have time for cuddles and breakfast in bed before he took off.

It was all a lie, the self-loathing voice whispered in the darkness.

But Namjoon managed to recognize the demon and shut him down. After years of practice, he learned to push down the side of himself that he was not proud of. He needed to find his voice of confidence. The one who was logical and reasonable.

Maya might have lied to you last night about talking to her mother, but her feelings for you are genuine—his reasonable voice said loudly.

With the demon locked down, Namjoon began to think clearly.

Suddenly, he replayed all last night with a different filter. One that was more observant and not so engulfed with anger.

God, what the fuck had happened? Things had seemed to be good between them. But then she had lied—again. She kept blocking him off for some reason he couldn’t understand. Why wouldn’t she let him in?

Racking his brain, he tried to search for the answer.

And as he did, his thoughts eventually came to a memory from a couple of years ago….

Seollal 2021 – Kim Household

“Thank you for doing the dishes, Maya. You really didn’t have to,” Eomuni said to Maya as Maya finished cleaning the last dish.

Maya smiled at Eomuni. “It’s the least I could do. Thank you so much for the meal,” she said for maybe the 10th time that night.

Maya’s constant gratitude made Namjoon smile. He found her so cute like this, so polite.

He’d gotten used to the foul-mouth, free-spirited side of Maya in the last year. Around older people and in the public eye, she had perfect manners. It was nice to see different sides of her.

The Kim family made their way to the living room where they spent it playing games for the next few hours. Maya fit well with Appa, who was very much like her and got competitive. She managed to keep things light and fun, mixing well with Namjoon’s parents and sister.

After a couple of hours playing, his parents seemed to have gotten tired and got ready to call it a day. Before heading to bed, though, Eomuni and Appa went on their nightly walk with Rapmon, Namjoon’s dog.

Namjoon, Maya, and Sissy continued playing their game and having light conversations.

Sissy excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Namjoon alone with Maya.

“Thanks for inviting me, Namjoon. I really appreciate it,” Maya said with a smile.

He smiled back. “No one should spend Seollal alone. Plus, my mom always has extra food.”

“Gotta thank Sissy for letting me room with her. I hate she has to share it with me.”

“She doesn’t mind. She really likes your company,” Namjoon said honestly.

His entire family enjoyed Maya’s company. His mother had talked non-stop with her and his father had laughed all evening. His sister clung to Maya’s every word, much like a little sister would admire an older sister. Even his dog, Rapmon, had constantly been at Maya’s side.

Namjoon was happy the entire household had welcomed her so well. He felt bad she spent the holidays alone. While she wasn’t Korean and the holidays didn’t mean anything to her, he didn’t like the idea of her not being around loved ones. She must be missing her parents.

It had been the second holiday Namjoon had invited her to spend with his family. Last time she had insisted on leaving after dinner; this time, his mother convinced Maya to stay the night.

He was glad for his mother; he truly disliked the thought of Maya driving this late at night.

Just as Sissy came back from the bathroom, Namjoon’s parents and Rapmon walked into the home. Rampon ran immediately to Maya, who welcomed him with plenty of love and petting.

“Well, we’re gonna call it a night, everyone,” Eomuni said with a smile. She waved to pair as she and Appa started to climb the stairs.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Appa said as he too climbed the stairs.

“Daughter, come on,” Eomuni called out to Sissy.

Sissy had just sat down next to Maya. She looked devasted. “I’m not sleepy, though.”

“You’re waking up early with me to make breakfast, come on,” Eomuni insisted.

Maya sat up. “I can help with breakfast, too.”

Eomuni waved her hand at Maya. “You’ll do no such thing as a guest. Come, daughter.”

Sissy was obedient but she still left with a pout. Despite his sister being in her mid-20s, Namjoon still saw a baby in her and smiled fondly at her. He watched her stomp off.

After his parents were gone, Namjoon found himself and Maya talking deep into the night.

He wasn’t sure how the conversation led to him telling her a story of a family trip when he was younger. It was one from his childhood, before joining Bangtan. Throughout the trip, the four family members had been inseparable. It had been full of fun, laughter, and love.

While Maya had a sweet smile on her face as he told the story, Namjoon took notice there was some sadness in her eyes as well. Could it be because the story was bringing a memory of her own childhood with her family?

“What were your family trips like?” Namjoon asked, curiously.

Much of Maya’s childhood was a secret. He knew she had a complicated relationship with her mother and she never mentioned her father. But that always couldn’t have been the case, right? She grew up wealthy—surely, she must have traveled to some pretty amazing places.

“We only ever went to Mexico. Mostly, we were sent there to visit my grandparents during the holidays. I don’t remember many holidays with my parents,” she said as a matter of fact, but Namjoon was quick to notice how she tugged at her long sleeves, pulling them over her hands.

He didn’t think she was cold. She had taken off her sweater a few minutes ago. He wondered if the action was caused for another reason. “You never traveled with your parents?”

Maya nodded. “My parents mostly spent their money on our extracurricular activities. Anything to get us out of the house.” She muttered the last part, throwing Namjoon off. “I only started to travel when I was in my girl group. I took a trip to Busan when I was a teenager, but that was because of my Tia Jia. My mother thought it was a waste but didn’t forbid me since it was my Tia Jia’s graduation present for me.”

“No travel?” Namjoon asked again, still not believing it.

“Just a ton of lessons from the top teachers money could afford.”

“How many activities were you in?” he asked her, shocked.

She thought for a moment. “Ballet, gymnastics, horseback riding, violin, piano, vocal training, guitar, soccer, volleyball. I eventually gave up ballet and gymnastics and took different dancing classes. I hated putting my horse Selena in competitions, so I only did it for like three years. And then I grew tired of the music lessons. My mom didn’t like me at home, though, so I had to pick other activities. That’s when I decided on asking my tia Jia to teach me Korean.”

“Why didn’t your mom want you home?” he asked, not bothering to think if it was appropriate to ask or not.

“So my mom and dad could continue their fights in peace,” she muttered.

Namjoon’s heart sank at hearing this. The hints had been there about Maya’s parents being abusive. But she was now verbally confirming the suspicions. A part of him didn’t want to know the question that came out of him next, but a more significant part of him needed to know. “How bad were the arguments?”

She tugged at her sleeves again, pulling them down past her fingers now. Namjoon now believed she did this to self-soothe. She was feeling vulnerable. “Someone called the cops once. I think it must have been Seb.” She stopped speaking and quickly looked away.

But Namjoon had noticed. Tears.

He didn’t want to press it, not wanting to push her too much. Instead, he went to her and sat close, rubbing her shoulder in a comforting way.

She didn’t turn back to him, but he heard the sniffles. After a long while, she took a deep breath. “Thank you, Namjoonie. Goes to show how compassionate you are. Not the same can be said about everyone.”

Namjoon frowned at this. “Who else did you tell?”

“My exes. One tried to normalize my childhood and another ex thought my crying was funny.” She finally turned to Namjoon, a sad smile on her face. “I always picked the best guys.”

Namjoon didn’t know what to say. He didn’t get it. How could a great and beautiful person like Maya ever date such scum? He witnessed how protective Maya was towards her loved ones and how she did not hesitate to defend a complete stranger. How did she not do that for herself with all her shitty exes? She deserved a great guy. Someone who would protect her as much as she protected others. Jerry had seemed to be a good guy—why hadn’t it worked with him?

And why in the fuck were her parents so crappy? He didn’t like passing judgment on complete strangers, especially those who were older than him. He couldn’t help himself, though. They had treated Maya so poorly when she had just been a kid.

Namjoon wanted to tell Maya this. Tell her she—like every person in the world—deserved to have good parents. But he held back, feeling it wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to openly criticize her parents. He didn’t know their background. He really shouldn’t judge.

Instead, he pulled her into a hug, allowing her to cry into his chest for as long as she wanted.

Thinking about this story made his brain work. Suddenly, everything about last night and the last month started to make sense.

Maya had mentioned how shitty her exes were. She wasn’t one to easily open up, so the story she had shared during Seollal had been a big deal. That had been the night she had opened up the most about her past to him. Probably the night that she started to consider him a best friend.

Maya had opened up to Namjoon before because they were friends. But Namjoon was no longer a “friend” in Maya’s eyes. He was now put into the “boyfriend” category.

Her past relationships had all been toxic—except the one with Jerry.

She might be fighting her and Namjoon’s progress due to a subconscious instinct. Maybe she thought if she were to open up to him, he would treat her the same as her past boyfriends.

Namjoon then remembered Maya’s story about what led to her and Jerry’s breakup.

They were in the backhouse in the Soop. Days before their relationship evolved.

Maya explained how Jerry proposed. “We got back to the hotel that night and he proposed. Big, diamond ring and everything.”

“You hate diamonds,” Namjoon had said quickly, confused.

Maya nodded slowly, a sad smile on her face—the same one she had had when she told Namjoon about her exes. “I think he forgot.”

Jerry had become another boyfriend who had dismissed her emotions. Another boyfriend who didn’t know her. Another boyfriend who had failed.

Things started to make sense to Namjoon. Her lies made sense—she was protecting herself.

And then, panic took over.

What the fuck had he done?

Everything about last night replayed in his head but he was viewing it in Maya’s perspective.

As he replayed last night, his eyes scanned the room. Something caught his attention. Her bra, panties, and shoes were on the floor. The sudden image of Maya walking down the hotel hall in nothing but a tank top, short skirt, and barefoot came into his head. The staff would have seen. Her smeared makeup. Her unruly hair.

Namjoon could practically feel her embarrassment. Her hurt. That he had caused.

Acting on impulse, he went to his phone, opening Kakao app. He wanted to call her, badly. But his brain told him she wouldn’t pick up anyway. It would be best to send her a voice memo.

He recorded himself, hoping she would hear it soon and answer back. It had been hours since she left, but maybe she would listen to it later today and get back to him.

“Hey, b—” he suppressed his automatic want and need to call her ‘babe’. This wasn’t the time for pet names. He didn’t want her to think he was sweet-talking her, playing her. “I’m sorry for how things went last night. I…can you call me as soon as you can? I’m flying out soon, but I really don’t want to leave things like this. Please. I didn’t handle it well.”

He wanted to tell her more. Tell her he didn’t want to break up. Tell her he regretted the words he used. Regretted letting her leave. Felt like shit for walking out on her. Fuck! He had left her! Walked out on her—how many times must she have experienced that in her past?! Her parents hadn’t been there for her. And now he hadn’t been. SHIT! He had majorly fucked up.

He needed to talk to her—hear her voice. “Call me. Please,” he pleaded and hit ‘send’.

At that moment, a staff knocked at his door, announcing his transportation was ready.

Namjoon gave instructions to his staff on what to take. Then quickly headed over to see Yoongi. He was the only other member left in the hotel. He was planning on staying at Maya’s.

Yoongi looked dead tired when he swung open his door.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s tired look suddenly vanished as he observed Namjoon’s face.

“When are you going over Maya’s?” Namjoon asked, not answering Yoongi’s question.

“Tomorrow around noon—after checkout. Why?”

“After you talk to her, call me as soon as possible. I want to make sure she’s alright.”

“Namjoon, what happened?” Yoongi’s face was stern now.

Namjoon shook his head, unable to answer. He felt tears come down as his throat tightened.

“Shit,” Yoongi let out. “Did you guys break up?”

Namjoon could only nod.

Yoongi shook his head in disappointment. “What happened?”

From the corner of his eye, Namjoon noticed the staff waiting for him. One of them was checking their watches, clearly noticing how late they were running.

“I’ll call you after I land. Just, please, hyung. Call me right after?” he sounded so desperate.

Yoongi gave a small nod. “Ok.”

“Look after her?” Namjoon pleaded.

“Of course.”

He left, praying to whatever fake elemental god or fairy or angel would listen to him.

*******

Weeks later…

He was back in Seoul and under quarantine. Normally, he would have hated the idea of needing to stay indoors for this long, but the trip had exhausted him.

He had enjoyed the experience, and had fun with his friends on the trip. But during the down times when he had nothing to do, nothing to think about, she was constantly on his mind. Every so often, he would look at his phone to look at his notifications. Nothing.

By now, Namjoon had sent her dozens of messages. Countless voice notes. Every morning, every night; he never went more than 12 hours without writing or sending her something. Sometimes they were paragraphs of words. Sometimes it was simple lines. A “good morning”. An “I miss you”.

Unread.

He hid his pain well from his friends throughout the trip. They noticed there was something off but he insisted it was “work stuff” at first. However, right before coming back to Seoul, the ache became too unbearable. He got drunk. Spilled some truths. He had bawled his eyes out.

Hakun and Yongrae were surprised to know he had kept the relationship a secret for so long. They were sympathetic to what was happening and gave words of comfort. Insisted she would call back. She needed time.

His other friend, however, didn’t have the same empathetic response as Hakun and Yongrae.

“There’s something she’s hiding,” his friend, Gaeul, said as Namjoon took another sip of beer. “Might be another guy, man.”

“Maya wouldn’t do that,” Yongrae immediately shot down.

“Well, what else could it be? Why want a secret relationship so badly?” Gaeul asked back.

“Privacy, maybe. She knows how bad a scandal can get if this relationship gets out,” Hakun said. “Maya might be liked by the public, but that can change if they find out she’s dating one of the seven most treasured people of the country.”

Gaeul waved his hand, dismissing this. “Whatever her excuse is, she certainly doesn’t respect him.”

“You can’t say that for a mistake she made,” Hakun said. “She cares about Namjoon.”

“She has a shitty way of showing it,” Gaeul muttered.

“We don’t know her side of the story,” Yongrae said.

“Maybe if she actually responded back to him, he could know. But it’s been weeks and she hasn’t given him at least the decency in responding back with a simple ‘I need time’. She’s just ghosting him at this time. Does a person who cares about someone else act that way?” Gaeul looked more upset than Namjoon did.

Namjoon just sat there and listened. He didn’t agree or disagree with any of his friends, but he certainly soaked in all the words.

Namjoon looked through his phone, checking his notifications.

Nothing.

He tried to distract himself and went onto his socials, wondering what was treading. Several rumors about a possible girlfriend he had. Instinctively, he dug a little deeper into that rumor. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Just some girl craving attention. Nothing to give any energy to.

Not more than five minutes later, a Kakao notification came up.

New Message.

Namjoon didn’t think he had ever opened a message so fast. However, when the feed came up, disappointment flooded through him.

It was Gaeul

 G: Yo, have you seen that girl going all over social media claiming to be your gf? Wtf

Welcoming any distractions, Namjoon responded back.

NJ: Well, she’s technically hinting at being my gf. She’s not explicitly saying it.

G: Everyone knows where she’s getting at, man.

NJ: 🤷🏻

G: Gonna respond back?

NJ: Nah. Not worth the energy. If I were to respond to every claim on social media about a possible romance, I would need to retire from music.

G: Probably best. You seen the paparazzi photos of Maya spreading around. That girl don’t look at all upset. She keeps getting pictured all dolled up.

Namjoon had seen Maya’s paparazzi photos. He hated to admit that he had gone so low as to actually search for them. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, he just wanted a glimpse of her at least.

Of course, she looked goddamn gorgeous in all the photos, but she wasn’t exactly “dolled up” as Gaeul described it. Maya was naturally photogenic. She could put on a garbage bag and still look like a goddamn runway model. Most of the time, he found it hard to believe that someone with her goddess features would find him attractive.

Namjoon was a realist. He knew he attracted plenty of people, but he mostly believed it was due to his fame. He had lived almost two decades of his life constantly being told he didn’t fit the standard of beauty. Maya, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. The media had always been enchanted with her looks. As far as looks went, Namjoon and Maya didn’t make any sense. However, since the first time he had kissed her, Namjoon believed they made sense together in everything else—in everything that mattered.

Namjoon’s phone buzzed again, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

G: Maybe Maya will see the crazy chick’s posts and get all jealous and shit. kkkk

With Gaeul saying it, the thought now crossed Namjoon’s mind. A scene played out in his head with Maya being in her bed and stumbling upon the story of him being with someone else. A twisted sort of satisfaction went through him at visioning her in tears—hurting just as much as he was hurting.

The feeling didn’t last long, though. He suddenly felt sick at allowing his head to get there.

NJ: Gotta go. ttyl

Namjoon put down his phone, promising himself not to touch it for a few hours.

*******

~ YOONGI ~

January; Bangtan Dorms, Seoul

“How is she?”

Yoongi and Namjoon were both finally out of quarantine and able to meet face-to-face. Both had caught the virus and they stayed in longer than planned. They had talked a little on the phone about Maya. Namjoon always asked about her. Yoongi never gave Namjoon too many specifics. During quarantine, Yoongi had the power of just hitting a button to stop Namjoon’s questions. Now that Namjoon was physically next to him, it would be harder to get rid of his tall leader.

Yoongi was quick to notice how strained and tired Namjoon looked. “She’s getting better.”

Yoongi had hinted to Namjoon the breakup had left Maya in a bad state. He didn’t want to give her business to Namjoon, but he also didn’t want Namjoon to think she wasn’t hurting either. Namjoon should know at least that.

“You still talk to her regularly?” he asked, his tone sounding bitter and angry.

The older of the two let out a sigh. He was bracing himself for the ugly side of Namjoon that rarely came out. It had been a while since they last fought, but Yoongi could always tell when one was about to happen. Usually, it was when one of them was under a copious amount of stress. And right now, Namjoon had a lot of shit going on. “Yeah, we talk.”

“Through Kakao?” Namjoon pressed.

Yoongi knew what the leader meant by this. “Another app. Or it’s through an international call.”

“Why?” Namjoon asked, confused.

“I don’t think she’s ready to open up that app,” Yoongi said. It was the truth. He hadn’t asked Maya why she was contacting him through another message app or international call, but he was certain of the answer. If she opened Kakao, she would see all the notifications.

“Why?” Namjoon was starting to sound angrier.

“When you talk to her, you can ask her.” Yoongi wasn’t about to open up that gate because he was certain it would lead to an argument pretty quickly.

“It’s been a month and she hasn’t called. There’s no way for me to reach her. I might as well be a fucking one-night stand to her,” Namjoon snapped.

Yoongi kept his calm. He knew Maya’s issues were the main reason why she and Namjoon had broken up, but it wasn’t the only reason. Namjoon took participation in why the relationship failed. What he had told Maya that night and the way he walked out had done damage. Maya was recoiling this intensely due to Namjoon’s response. And Yoongi wasn’t about to let Namjoon believe he was fully innocent. “Is that why you had to publicly announce you weren’t in a relationship on social media a few days ago? You’re hoping she sees it?”

There had been someone on social media claiming to be Namjoon’s girlfriend. It had been circulating for a while and get to the point where the company had asked Namjoon how he wanted to handle the situation. Yoongi thought Namjoon would have simply ignored it, or at most declared he didn’t know the girl. However, after Namjoon wrote his statement saying he did “not know the person at all”, the company wanted to release its own statement. It was “not true that he [RM] is in a relationship,” were the words used by the company that Namjoon had ok’d. Yoongi was certain Namjoon was being vindictive in ok’ing the last part.

Namjoon’s eyes shot daggers at Yoongi. “Someone was claiming to be in a relationship with me on social media. I wanted to squash those rumors and set the record straight.”

“All you had to do was claim you didn’t know her. The added bit of you not being in a relationship was personal,” Yoongi stated. “You tend to do that when you reach a certain point of anger. You wanted her to see it. You were wanting to hurt her.”

“Did she read it?” Namjoon asked immediately. The look in his eyes contained hope and regret. He was losing it.

“She only uses her phone to communicate with a few people. She’s stayed away from all social media and the news. She hasn’t seen it, sorry to disappoint,” Yoongi said, annoyed.

For a long moment, the pair didn’t speak. Yoongi waited for his younger brother to come down from his anger.

After time had passed for too long, Yoongi sensed a change in the air. He felt Namjoon crying before hearing the sniffles. The hyung’s heart tugged for his younger brother. He reached out and rubbed Namjoon’s shoulder.

He let Namjoon cry, feeling tears sting his own eyes. “You don’t open easily yourself,” Yoongi said. “Took years for your walls to come down. Same with me.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything, just listened.

“She’s like us. She’s cautious on who she lets in. And even after letting people in, she has her moments of hiding. You and I have our reasons why we are detached like this. She has hers.”

“I just…” Namjoon tried to control his sobs to let out what he was feeling. “I’ve let her in. I’ve trusted her. Why can’t she trust me?” He stared at his hyung with eyes full of hurt.

Yoongi tried to keep himself together. “That’s not the way it works. Just because you allow someone in does not mean you are entitled to be let in with her. But I’m positive she wants to let you in. She has her reasons as to why she hasn’t or can’t. And she’ll want to tell you once she’s ready. But know sometimes it takes a good while for people to be ready.”

Namjoon went back to crying, looking more than defeated. “God, I just want to talk to her. I fucking miss her. It’s been a month. I can’t remember the last time I went more than a day without talking to her.”

Another long period went without words being said.

Yoongi finally spoke, saying something he really wanted to let out. “She hasn’t told me anything.” He continued to look forward, not making eye contact.

“Huh?” Namjoon asked, not understanding Yoongi’s words.

“I don’t know what happened with her. The seven of us suspect something happened to her before she came to Seoul—maybe sexually assaulted.” Yoongi’s heart weighted down even more at saying this, but he needed to. “None of us think it was Jerry. We all agree he’s too much of a good guy. But someone did something to her. Jimin shared with us the incident that occurred backstage during the awards show in 2019. Months later, she was helping us with a song and while on video chat with her, we noticed she was quieter and had circles under her eyes. Her leaving America suddenly and not going back was concerning.” It broke Yoongi’s heart to think something so horrible had happened to a dear friend of his.

Namjoon’s hands clenched into fists. Yoongi could only imagine what Namjoon was feeling. Namjoon cared for her more than Yoongi ever could.

Despite being incredibly close to Maya, Yoongi had never been able to break through with Maya but Yoongi suspected Namjoon questioned whether Yoongi was honest. Namjoon would give Yoongi looks whenever the topic came up: did Yoongi know about Maya’s secret? Yoongi’s answer was always ‘no’. Namjoon never looked convinced.

Yoongi had hoped she would have opened up to Namjoon. Sadly, she hadn’t. He needed Namjoon to know that Maya had that wall up for him as well. “It must be bad if she hasn’t told any of us,” Yoongi said out loud.

Longer moments of quiet.

Yoongi thought Namjoon was about to take it upon himself and leave, but there was something that still needed to be said. Another hidden truth that needed to be shed into the light.

“You love her,” Yoongi let into the air.

Namjoon didn’t respond, but there was a slight look of shock on his face.

“You think we don’t notice,” Yoongi said with a laugh. “The way you touch her; how you gravitate towards her whenever she’s in the same room; how your eyes scan to find her. You always manage to get right next to her. Only a few of us have caught it. You’re not much into physical affection, but with her, there’s always a part of you that’s on her. I’ve caught you plenty of times pressing your shoe against hers.”

Namjoon turned away, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“And she loves you.” Another truth.

Namjoon shook his head slightly, seeming bothered.

Yoongi misread him, thinking Namjoon didn’t believe this to be true. “She does,” Yoongi insisted. “You’re witty and funny, but the way she laughs at your jokes, you’d think you were a combination of Einstein and Junha. She never looks more amazed or more entertained than when she’s around you.” He pressed on Namjoon’s arm, making the younger one turn to him. Once their eyes met, Yoongi repeated the words. “She loves you.”

Tears came back. “Being with her makes me happy; makes me feel like I’m not losing my mind. I get so in my head sometimes and I feel she brings me back to the real world. But…not having her—not talking to her—is making me question whether that’s a good thing. I’ve noticed myself go deeper these few weeks and I’m seeing that ugly side of myself again. I was able to have control over him before. Now, it seems as if she’s in control.”

“You’re still the one in control, Namjoonah,” Yoongi encouraged. “It’s just a new phase you’re transitioning into. You’re in a team of two instead of one. It’s learning how to balance it all again. And you’ll get there.”

“That’s only if she’ll have me,” Namjoon said sadly.

Yoongi was about to continue with his pep talk, but his phone buzzed. He looked down, ready to send whoever it was to voicemail. However, once he saw he was, he changed his mind.

It was Jimin. Yoongi picked up and without thinking, put him on speaker. “Yeah?”

“Hyung,” Jimin said on the other end. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“I’m out of food at my place. Can you get some basic groceries and take them to my house? Everyone at the company is still out on holiday.”

“Why’s it gotta be me? Namjoonie lives in the same complex. Ask him.” Yoongi whined.

“It can’t be Namjoon,” Jimin said, sounding stressed.

Suddenly, things felt awkward. The seven rarely kept secrets from each other, which was why Yoongi immediately answered and put his younger member on speaker without thinking. Anything Jimin would say to him, he was certain Jimin would be fine in Namjoon overhearing. However, it was now apparent that Jimin was wanting to keep this from their leader.

Yoongi was stuck. He didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t hang up, Namjoon would be hurt in knowing the two were keeping something from him. But he couldn’t announce to Jimin that Namjoon was present either and overhearing everything.

Namjoon frowned a bit and waited for Yoongi’s decision, not knowing what to do either.

But it was too late for Yoongi to react. Jimin kept talking. “Don’t tell Namjoon—I already told Maya I would keep it between me and her.”

Yeah, there was no way Yoongi would be able to keep Jimin from talking if Maya was involved.

Namjoon took the phone from Yoongi and hit the mute button, ensuring Yoongi didn’t disrupt Jimin from talking.

Yoongi stayed frozen, though.

Jimin sounded a bit stressed and began to ramble and talk fast. “Maya decided to come back to Seoul earlier than planned. Her place isn’t ready obviously, so she asked if she could stay at my place, knowing my house is empty since I’m in Busan with my family. I don’t have much food at home and she’s been having issues with her accounts. I told her I would get it for her, but I forgot I had a few drinks last night, and…well, I lost my wallet—I had to freeze my accounts to be on the safe side. I’ve been trying to get ahold of her for a few hours and she’s not responding and everyone at the company isn’t answering either. Can you get the stuff that she’ll need and maybe check on her? She has a few days left of her quarantine.”

Yoongi was surprised by the last bit of information. How long had Maya been back?

Namjoon looked just as shocked, taking the phone off mute. “Maya’s been here for days?”

Jimin went silent for a moment. “Ssibal. Hyung, why didn’t you say he was there?!”

******

~NAMJOON~

There was zero hesitation. He reacted. He got his keys, called a car, and exited the dorms.

Because he often visited Jimin, he knew Jimin’s passcode to his home. He put in the code without a second guess, not bothering to knock. He didn’t want to give her the choice. She had had a choice for over a month and she had chosen to avoid him. The ball was in his court now. Plus, he was positive Jimin had called her to give her a heads-up.

As he made his way through the entrance hall, he heard the chimes announcing his arrival.

He walked into the living room, looking towards the bedrooms, and wondered what bedroom she was in. However, he spotted something on the couch. He made his way over and saw the blankets folded neatly, along with a pillow. He’d crashed on Jimin’s couch enough to recognize she was making camp there.

He looked around the living room and noticed a few knickknacks that were definitely hers. A bottle of melatonin on the table. Her favorite lotion. Hair ties. Her phone. With the slightest movement, her phone turned on. Missed calls. The phone didn’t recognize his face and it was set to private, so he couldn’t see whose calls were missed. However, he could make a guess.

His eyes continued to skim the room. He saw it. On top of the armchair. A sweater of his.

His eyes stayed on that sweater, remembering the last time he had worn it. Two nights before they broke up. He had forgotten it at her house.

The sound of a door opening pulled his attention away. He turned right on time.

She walked out of the bedroom, a stunned look on her face at seeing him there. She wore baggy pants that hung loosely on her hips, had an old shirt he knew to be a favorite of hers despite its multiple holes, fuzzy socks on her feet because he was sure she was freezing, her hair soaking wet, and her face was a bit puffy from having clearly taken a hot bath. God, he had forgotten how incredibly beautiful she was.

Like some stunning, majestic goddess who was blessing him with her presence.

He forced himself not to be caught in her mist. He was supposed to be angry at her, dammit. “What are you doing here?” Namjoon demanded.

-----------------------------------------

NOTE: I hope the last chapter is up next week, but there might be a 2-week wait.

I'm really excited to give this story's last chapter next week.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

[hangmanbradshaw]

Hi Steph! I have sooo many questions, so let's see which emoji I can remember: 🤡✨️❌️🤗✅️🤭 Thank you!! - Mo (not on a train)

My dearest Mo!!!! Friend!!! I'm so sorry this got buried in my asks okay I'm gonna do this. I've just been...chugging along you might say ;D

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Omg I love throwing comedy in so there's a lot but hmmm maybe in IWTBY when Jake & Bradley are spying on Mav and Ice's date they parent trapped them on, and they're running around like idiots ducking behind sand dunes. Or you know....basically the entire crack fic I wrote that's princess & the frog themed where rooster turns into a rooster lmao

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Oh god you picked the hard one huh? Okay. I feel like my brain is full of so many little AU worlds and I hope they're portrayed in both fun and emotional ways?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Idk if this counts as a trope but unrequited love. That and unhappy endings. They might be dumb about it for a while but it's always gonna be both in love & happy at the end.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

You CAN do it, first of all. I just started writing in February and I definitely thought I couldn't do it, but you can and it gets easier the more you do it. I like to sometimes just close my eyes and let my mind play out an idea or story like a movie in my head for a while before I write. It sparks a lot of ideas and then I jot them down. That and if you're going for long- a fluid outline is very helpful (main plot points for each chap but then if you make a reference in a chap go to a future outline chap and add a note about referencing it again so things don't get lost and little things are wrapped up nicely.) Oh and don't worry about what people will think- write the story that makes you happy, the story you want to tell. When you write about what you're passionate about, it carries into the writing and I feel like you can just tell.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Comedy. I love adding some funny parts. Banter. Oh my god I love writing banter and conversation. PLOT TWISTS. I love a good plot twist or everything not being as it seems. Music/song/movie/sports references (intentional), references/nods to my other fics (intentional). Trope wise...I think a bit of a possessive kink finds its way in there as well as obliviousness. And one bed. It always comes back to one bed. Now that I'm thinking about it sports find their way in a lot too.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

On here I tag them all my fics or by the fic or series title cuz I'm too lazy to do anything else lmao

[littlethingwithfeathers]

8, 25, 46, 54 please? Not to be greedy but...😁

Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story? Middle. Hands down. Middle chapters of trilogies are almost always my favorite... and usually when I'm writing, the first few scenes I start imagining are usually somewhere in the middle. It'll be an important scene that's the crux of the fic without being like... the climax or a major conflict. Something really crunchy that is the seed of all the other action in the fic. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on? Hmm. I mean, I'm like any writer and I love to have eyeballs on my work, and love interaction/response to said writing even more. So... I could cheat and say all of it, because that would certainly be true. But I also know that because I'm a fandom hermit, I definitely don't like... put myself out there to get eyes on my writing. I kinda just come down off Mount Fic with my story chiseled on a tablet, throw it into the ocean and then flee back to my cave. I could probably... I dunno... advertise myself better? But... that means I have to be social and I sometimes really struggle with online interactions. Is it possible to have social anxiety for online communication? Questions for later... But anyway. That said... Here's some fics I'd love to see more views/response to. "We Might Be Exactly Like We Were" MCU Steve/Bucky. Explicit. Post-Winter Soldier, Pre-Civil War alternate story. I was in a dark place when I wrote this, and I actually feel like I wrote my way out of it. The fic itself starts dark, but ends more optimistic and I'm just... really proud of how accurately I got my feelings on the page. There's a lot of sadness... both about my life and also the direction the canon went with these characters. But I tried to bring the joy that I wished for at the end. And as big as the fandom for Stucky is, I wish it had gotten more eyeballs. I'm really proud of it. "Crawling Down the Avenue" The Newsroom Sloan/Don. Explicit. Spoilers for... Season 2 I think? When I came back to fic writing after about a decade of hiatus, I started off writing fic for the show The Newsroom. It's great. Everyone should watch at least the first couple of seasons. Honestly... I probably don't wish for more engagement so much as just that the show still existed and had a bigger audience. But anyway, here it is. I really had fun writing this and loved this pairing. "Widow's Walk" NBC Hannibal, Hannigram. Explicit. Check the tags. Spoilers for the end of Hannibal. I was really pleased by the murder mystery I crafted here... though I could probably do better if I went back to give it a rewrite. Thank you for the excuse to shamelessly plug my stuff. <3 How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc) Oof. I honestly don't know. Probably character/emotion-driven. I actually asked @kaminaduck. He says that I tend to focus on characters' relationships to themselves as well as others... lots of asking about who they are and what that means to others and the wider world. Lots of self-determination... I tend to not be very action focused. It's a lot of time in the characters' heads. I also tend to write very percussively. I like for my writing to have poetry and rhythm, especially for dialogue or inner monologues. And there is some creative use of punctuation. And I also love me some pretentious vocabulary. It's just who I am as a person. I like words with texture and crunch. My therapist says she learns a new word from me every session. There's a reason I found a lot of success in the Hannibal fandom. XD What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

It's usually finding that flint-on-tinder moment. I'm mulling and thinking and thinking and mulling and I know that there's something amazing buried around in the canon and then suddenly... the lightning strikes. The neurons connect. And now there's an idea. I've found some sort of connection or idea that gives a whole new dimension to a relationship or character or event and that's what really drives me. Other really good moments are when I have sketched out some of the important scenes and I get to the part where I can link them together. Like... for instance, when I was writing "Girl in the Garden" I wrote all of Natasha's scenes "inside the Soulstone" first. Not completely but just a few lines to capture what I wanted that scene to be... and it was always so satisfying to connect them as I'd get to them while writing in chronological order (which is how I write 90% of the time).

Thank you for the questions, sweet friend! Much love!

[bestbonnist]

Re: PowerBall --- Yea, you make a good point about the tundra being pretty disfigured after so many centuries, and especially with civilization's trash all buried in the earth to the point that people have to live on gigantic trees (please don't let the trash part be prescient in *our* timeline 😟). I think we can take it further, too--who's to say the climate hasn't changed enough that the tundra might not be a tundra anymore? 2/?

Are you kidding me??? Any doll making is impressive—and you're doing it only with YouTube videos? I had to relearn knitting off YouTube and I wanted to beat my head in. A doll Fushi would be so cute and amazing, especially since they're so fond of dolls. It's what they would want. And I'd love to see it whenever you feel comfortable showing me. It doesn't matter if you think it's good or not, it's the thought that counts (this is also what Fushi would say).

I think I fucked up and accidentally deleted your first ask but yeah... imagine, the feeling of Fushi returning to the first place they saw and there's nothing left. Reinforcing that the only memory of the nameless boy is what's inside them.

I realized after talking about it that the immortals technically did go see their homelands at the start of the present era but I'm thinking more... transformative experiences, like Gugu had in Takunaha. It's less of an actual expectation for the story and more of a personal wish. But if it was all of them going around to the places they lived and then dying there???? Get out. I would go apeshit. The only thing attaching the immortals to life is Fushi, so if Fushi decides to go, they all go. That's pretty much how I feel, though if Fushi dies no one will be around to resurrect them anyways. Basically I think Fushi dying is a prerequisite, but that would make the hypothetical world tour SO sad. I wouldn't be able to read that without sobbing every chapter.

And maybe that's how it ends... I completely agree with what you're saying about circularity, I think the chapter where the immortals argued about how to die was an indication that they've finished experiencing life for themselves. But I have no idea how that would be handled.

I also thought the doll was the left hand but now that we know how tag chips/knockers work that seems less likely (plus March rubbed the anti-knocker cream on her body so we know she doesn't have a knocker inside her) BUT, she is carrying around a tag chip that belonged to a Mizuha clone. That could very well be the left hand. And the brainwaves!!! That would explain what 32 was messing around with during her first appearance, and how the doll has human brainwaves! I'm taking notes.

Also, yeah, the doll's outsider perspective is important for exploring a world the readers have no experience with, and for seeing the star system with fresh eyes. But who's to say it can't serve multiple purposes? In the present era, the narration would sometimes go to Mizuha—and I remember it going to Hanna once or twice too—but Fushi's got absolutely nothing here. I find it suspect.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

[ID: A colourful collection of icons and images related to tumblr, each animated to switch between two angles, surrounding the words 'tumblr 2022 My Year In Review' in front of an orange grid background. End ID.]

I posted 649 times in 2022

That's 649 more posts than 2021!

66 posts created (10%)

583 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-can-even-burn-salad

@suspicious-whumping-egg

@redwingedwhump

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@verkja

I tagged 611 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#whump - 88 posts

#whump writing - 82 posts

#fantasy whump - 75 posts

#glass shards - 32 posts

#whump art - 30 posts

#writing things - 23 posts

#🤣🤣🤣 - 22 posts

#writing - 20 posts

#starlit plays tag games - 19 posts

#hidden depths - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i've adopted this story ✨️ as such my first speculative thought was whether cyra would go with adair when (emphasis) he eventually escapes

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hidden Depths: Masterlist

Genre: Fantasy whump

This story is set in my fantasy world of Valysii. It follows an eighteen-year-old young man named Resh, who essentially sold himself into indentured servitude in return for assistance from the Crown to save his sick sister.

Unfortunately for him, he works for the crown prince, Marcus, who is a sadistic bastard. He finds this out soon enough, but not soon enough to matter, if you catch my drift :D

This story is told in dual POV.

See the full post

9 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#4

Chapter 8 ~ No way out

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Genre: Fantasy whump

Written per Whumptober 2022 prompts

CW: flashback of attempted noncon, panic attack, mentioned death, mentioned murder, angst, failed escape, buried alive, magic whump, captivity

WC: 4499

See the full post

10 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

#3

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag nanashi23!

RULES ARE SIMPLE. Share the last lines of... (whatever last lines means to you) . What you've written, last thing you wrote, last line said by a character. Surprise me. : )

This snippet is from a new story featuring Nykim from my fantasy whump Hidden Depths :D

~~

"Her," Nykim said shortly. The early morning light was nearly blocked out by the dense canopy of green from above, so he was forced to slow his pace or risk tripping over a root or fallen branch. That wouldn't do, not even in front of Brant.

Brant shook his head, the motion barely visible. "Her." Brant's tone was full of disbelief. "I still can't believe it."

"What, is it so hard to believe a female could be as vicious as she is?" Nykim asked softly, infusing his voice with a quiet sort of venom. He wouldn't tolerate any disrespect, even when she was gone.

"No, of course not," Brant was quick to say. "It's just, I fuckin trained him. I mean, her. Known her as long as you, and never would've guessed."

Nykim rolled his eyes, then came to a stop before the first wall. There were three of the fuckers, with only one gate, patrolled by the royal guard at all hours. Too tall, too smooth, to climb, but Nykim didn't have that problem.

~~

*grumble fucking tags grumble* Tagging people makes me nervous 😅

Tagging: i-can-even-burn-salad - since I'm not responding to your tag lol verkja @littleperilstories (if you want to of course!) also, butyoumissedmyheart - if you'd like to (like really, feel free to ignore this tag lol), sometimes sharing small pieces is easier than posting a whole chapter :)

There, I did it. *phew*

15 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#2

I have 3 more chapters and 5 more days in October. I had given up on completing whumptober last week when I got stuck on my last posted chapter. I'm still slightly behind, but it's doable. It is doable. I'm over here cheering myself on. You can do it, anna! :D

25 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Whump Intro

Hi, hello! 

Um, I’ve been avoiding this intro bc I am a shy awkward hermit that usually just lurks and likes stuff, but that doesn’t really work on Tumblr so here I am! Plus I wanted to use Whumptober to force myself into sharing my writing and figured it might be useful to introduce myself first.

You can call me starlit, or anna, or hey you, I don’t really care lol. She/her pronouns. I love reading fantasy & fantasy romance, writing, and playing RPG video games when I have the time (usually fantasy based-are we sensing a theme here? 😂)

Before we get to more about me nonsense-

Acknowledgements!

Shout out to i-can-even-burn-salad

For beta reading for me and then being brave enough to share her stories with me. And for sucking me into Tumbler lol. And for talking to me all the time and making me laugh. And for being such a great person. <3

I love her writing and stories so much. Please, please, check her writing out. It's worth it, I promise! Bring tissues though!!

Best internet friend ever trophy, where is it? I need to send it… oh, there it is. Here you go, Elli! 🏆🎉💜

I haven't had the opportunity to check out many other blogs yet, bc someone has such an extensive back catalog 👀 😂 but tagged below is the one I have read. I devoured Traces in one day because it was so good. Highly recommend!

Traces by whumping-in-the-wings - Thanks for writing such a great story! Can't wait to see what happens next :)

(Obligatory disclaimer: heed the warnings. They are well-tagged.)

I've got my eye on several other blogs once I have a little more time. Hope ya'll like spam likes/reblogs/comments, bc I'm a bit enthusiastic 😂

Ok, back to me, I suppose. Under the cut 🤣

I tend to use emojis excessively, but don’t expect me to know the meaning of them beyond face-value expressions. I shamelessly claim elder millennial status as an excuse (which means I’m 18+, obviously).

I’m audhd (combo autistic/adhd), but I didn’t find that out until earlier this year, so I’m still very used to tiptoeing around people and holding myself back out of self-preservation. Working on that though, bc I’m tired of that shit. 

Erm, also… fuck is my favorite word. If you don’t like foul language, I might not be a great fit for you. 

I joined Tumblr about a month ago, so I am still learning and ask for your patience. (I will probably be learning for quite some time, tbh) If I’m doing something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it.

Asks are welcome, although not sure what you would ask me lol. With asks, keep in mind that I’m literal as fuck and context is everything :D

As is fairly common from what I’ve seen in this community, I’ve daydreamed whump for as long as I can remember, and it’s nice to:

1. know what to call it 🥲

2. find someplace where I don’t feel weird about getting it out of my head and putting it on digital paper. Well, not quite as weird haha.

I’m super nervous to post on here, but that’s what I’m here for, so… deep breaths 😶

Likes: 

See the full post

91 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[quecksilvereyes]

I posted 8,205 times in 2022

That's 3,315 more posts than 2021!

373 posts created (5%)

7,832 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vaspider

@feuer-bluete

@cardentist

@mushroom-in-space

@ohboywonder

I tagged 1,758 of my posts in 2022

#text - 280 posts

#timezone reblog - 180 posts

#reference - 99 posts

#sewing - 42 posts

#poetry - 42 posts

#larissa makes things - 30 posts

#wormdelivre - 27 posts

#cardentist - 23 posts

#signal boost - 23 posts

#quote - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#1) hebrew 2) spanish 3) chinese 4) literally any slavic language i just think theyre neat 5) any language with clicks in it. i cannot make t

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i always find it so funny when ppl whose first language is english are like "oh i dont know if i like this song i just cant understand these lyrics i dont speak the language" bestie 5 year old me spoke neither italian nor english and still begged my parents to play "eros ramazotti feat. anastacia i belong to you" at any given opportunity

its not about understanding the lyrics, its about the vibes! did you like the beat, did it make you feel something, did you make up a whole different meaning for it in your head?

we didnt all lose our shit about drangonsta din tae for people to only listen to music in languages they understand

727 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

#4

sometimes i think about narnia and i vibrate out of my skin like...

you walk into a world you cannot understand, frozen and dying, and it is you who thaws it. you who kills the witch, you who breaks the stone table, you who slays the wolf. it is you who is crowned and it is you who wails for two worlds when the wardrobe doors shut behind you.

your skin never sits quite right and your teeth are too dull. there are wars in your bones and decades in your eyes before you can reach the telephone on the wall.

you are king. you are queen. they won't let you read the newspapers at breakfast.

it calls you back from beyond a train and from within paint. begs with bloody palms and salt-crusted cheeks. takes from you all that you can give - and sends you back.

you watch your sister fade.

you are a child twice and an adult once. and when you stand in your home again, with crushed bones and the smell of coal still in your nose, you watch them sneer at your sister.

your sister is the sun above you. she is, beautiful and stone-cast, alive in a world you could never stomach. she smiles, still, and stretches her skin over human bones.

she is no longer a friend of narnia. do you tell them it is her who has to bury you all and the stars that are falling from the skies in shards?

2,553 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

#3

anyone wanna hear my rant about how marvel basically destroyed media literacy

27,288 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#2

im obsessed with stories that have a fixed ending before they even start. stories with narrators who are crying as they tell it because there is only one way this can end.

there is only one way this can go.

stories where the characters might know how it all ends and beg the audience to change it, knowing they can't. stories where the characters are unaware, but given the people they are and the situations they're in- well, what else are they supposed to do?

stories that are loops. that start with everyone dying and getting back up again to do it one more time.

because this time, maybe, it will be different.

the narrator cries.

34,674 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

since im on a roll about tragedies:

i am sick to death of fourth wall breaks that are funny. i want fourth wall breaks that make me want to cry.

give me hamlet looking up during his monologue to see the audience and plead with them for help. give me orpheus, on the road back up from the underworld begging us to make sure eurydice is there, to tell him she is safe. give me orpheus turning when the audience stays silent.

give me someone, bloody and full of tears monologuing to the camera when the narrative has wound itself so tight that they can't escape it anymore.

"youre just watching me. help me. im dying and im rotting and im losing myself and you wont do a thing."

i want the tragedy to be the performance. i want the tragedy to be, truly, in the eyes of the beholder.

59,905 notes - Posted August 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[obey-me-rot]

You're Mine

A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.

It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.

A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.

As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.

Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!

Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!

Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.

"MC?"

Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.

The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.

His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.

He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.

That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.

It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.

You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.

And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.

“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”

“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”

Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.

Might as well get rid of the pest now.

“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”

“OW!”

You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”

He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.

Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.

You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.

“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, “Next time at least warn me.”

“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”

The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.

That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.

He had finally gotten you all to himself.

Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.

And inspiration did you give.

“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”

The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.

“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”

His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--

Only to see that you were gone.

Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.

There you were...talking with someone else.

“Mammon?”

He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.

“Are you taking a break?”

Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.

“MC, who is this?”

“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”

“Well we used to sit together...”

“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”

It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.

This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.

“MC.”

“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”

“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”

The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?

“MC…”

“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”

“A match made in hell, I would say.”

Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?

“MC….”

“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”

“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”

A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.

“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”

You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.

“And you had to bite me because of that!?”

“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”

He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.

The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.

Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.

"Did you see the finale of it live?"

"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"

Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.

Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!

Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.

He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.

Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?

“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”

Nobody cared.

“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”

Stop talking!

“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!

Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--

No.

No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!

Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!

People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.

His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.

You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.

That’s what he said but…

Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.

“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”

Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.

“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”

You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.

Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…

Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.

“MC, here.”

Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.

“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”

You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.

This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.

The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.

Which made Satan break another pencil.

From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.

He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.

But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.

If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.

The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.

They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.

A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.

Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.

Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.

Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.

“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”

“....really?”

“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”

You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--

Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.

“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”

The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”

Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.

“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”

The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.

“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”

Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.

“MC! Try this!”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!

Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?

Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.

This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.

So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!

Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.

“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”

The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.

“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”

This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.

“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”

Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”

Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.

“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”

The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.

Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.

“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”

“No it looks perfect on you! But--”

He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”

Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.

Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.

His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--

But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”

“OW OW OW!”

Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?

He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.

“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”

If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.

“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”

Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.

Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.

He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.

Yet this one seemed rather...eager.

“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”

His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.

Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.

Nothing.

He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.

MC, pay attention to him!

This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!

He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!

People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.

Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.

Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?

They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--

“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”

Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.

So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?

“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”

You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.

“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”

“Beel…”

Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.

“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.

“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”

And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.

“We’ve known each other for a while.”

Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.

“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”

The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.

“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”

He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.

So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.

“I know you have seven pacts already…”

Damn straight.

“But would an eight be too much for you?”

That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?

You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.

So go ahead, reject him.

“A pact? With me?”

What were you doing?

Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.

Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.

“I know I’m not like those brothers--”

Damn straight.

“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”

He wants to gag.

A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.

And you were to blame too, you know?

You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?

As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.

He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!

Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.

“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--

“I’ll-try-to-have-an-answer-for-you-later-got-to-go-bye!”

Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.

“I was in the middle of a call!”

“I know.”

“Then what was that about!?”

The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.

“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”

You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.

“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”

He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

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in reply to @bokkun_official 

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Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[prettyboykatsuki]

♡ GENSHIN IMPACT + HOW LOVE FINDS THEM ♡

➳ ft. kaeya, diluc, zhongli, tartaglia

➳ tags ;; tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol as a coping mechanism, a little angst but happy endings always, extreme kaeya bias ngl, spoilers for kaeyas story, nonsexual nudity, gn!reader 

➳ a/n ;; first time writing for genshin so if the characterization is funky.. my fault 

➳ summary ;; genshin impact characters and how i think love finds them when they find you 

ZHONG-LI

Sometimes, he admits to himself, it feels forbidden to love you. 

When love finds him, it is on the stairway of a small cottage, tucked into a corner of Liyue. It is quiet and unassuming, more importantly shared. A place you’ve decided to spend hefty mora on to live in. 

There’s a backyard and a space for a garden and there are sweet flowers that always seem to regrow after you pick them. On the walls are weapons and hunting gear but in the drawers are spare clothes and change. It’s got two stories but it’s not big. It’s a home, still. 

You’ve invited him inside, an adopted street-cat at your feet as you make dinner. Zhong-li is a working man, but he spends his days off here. You are an adventurer, strong with a big heart and bigger dreams. Your silhouette makes up all the shadows that dance on the wall and you sway to the beat of a soundless song. A smile makes the corners of your lips twitch up and you stir the pot of whatever you're making with boundless enthusiasm. 

Zhong-li would not wish godliness on anyone. He thinks about it often. Where Rex Lapis ends and where the human, the mortal Zhong-li starts is a blurred line. Humanity is a grieving thing. People live and are happy and then they pass and it is the only thing someone can guarantee. You will be born into the world tearful but you will pass silently - like a wind. 

Godliness means little is forbidden to you. Reality is something you fumble with in your clumsy hands and hope you can get right and humanity is a grieving thing. Always in that order. He knows there is no such thing as love that is truly forbidden - feelings like love and sadness and joy are things that cannot be settled by contracts or understood. They simply exist as if they are their own religion. 

Zhong-li watches you pick up a white furred cat and let it’s nose rest against yours for a brief moment. You hug it and sing to it like it is a child and when you’re done, you let it fondly nudge against your legs.

“Stop being bad and let me cook dinner,” you’ll say, like it knows. And maybe it does - Zhong-li thinks to himself that it might. It prances off and sleeps in the basket you’ve bought, covered in blankets and linens. He stares at you for a long while, his eyes dancing down your silhouette.

There is something remarkably human about love. Perhaps love is the one thing gods cannot truly get their hands on. This greed, this loneliness, this tender feeling - so soft it might fall apart in his hands. In all of his years of living, he likes to believe he has known love. For his companions and for his people. 

But this affection that soaks his bones, greedy and aching to be cared for, must be something only a human could get their hands on. He thinks he could only love you like this with his mortal body, his beating heart and dry mouth. With golden eyes that blink at you, curious to know what you’ll do or say next. If humanity is grieving, perhaps love is acceptance. Reconciliation. Maybe the reason no human complains about a short life is because they, at least once, have loved. 

He thinks he understands it briefly. If redoing everything meant he couldn’t be with you, even once, he would keep it all the same. What a sentiment. He smiles at you as you dance and the sunlight hits the bare skin of your thighs, buried in the expanse of your skin. He longs to be so close to you too. 

Remembering he can choose to be so close to you. That he can act upon this insatiable desire to be loved. It feels forbidden and unreachable. 

But it isn’t. 

He holds out his hand to you and you pause, tilting your head before taking it. He stands and wraps his arms around your waist and stares down at you with so much affection you falter. His lips press against the crown of your head. You’re warm and real.

When love finds him, it is just like this. Under the setting sun of Teyvat, harbored in his mortal body. 

TARTAGLIA 

You never wrap his wounds with care. 

The process is rough and not very quick. It must be comfortable for you to put your hands on him because you never seem to show him any mercy. He’ll enter your quarters with something like a wince. A wound - red and bleeding in his shoulder. He’s got his blazer dragged down his biceps, an uneasiness on his face as he drops into the room. You’re clearly busy doing something, but that’s never stopped him before. 

Wordlessly, he drops himself into the chair to the left of the little table in your room. He sits in it before dropping his head back, looking at you upside down. A frown etched into your features, eyes low and exasperated. You give him a look of discontent that he returns with a shit-eating grin. His heart stutters when you stand but he says it’s blood loss. You shut your book and place it on your bedside table. 

Underneath your bed is the first aid kit, which you grab - swift like ocean waves. He scoots back until he’s facing you. You stare down at him for a long while, brow furrowing. He gives you a dizzying smile. 

“You’re staring,” ― he proclaims, brunette hairs sticking to sweaty skin ― “Do you like the view?” 

You ignore him. Instead, you place your first aid kit with a slam onto the table and rummage through it. Nimble fingers quickly take out clear vials of alcohol, bandages, a pair of small scissors and some creams of your own making. He thinks you’re brilliant and he wants to tell you as much but the words feel too unruly, too soft spoken from his mouth. He stares at you for a long while, his eyes so forlorn by your lack of attention that you speak.

It’s a sigh first like the wave of a white flag. 

“Take your shirt off,” 

“Take me for dinner first at least,” 

You give him an unimpressed look. 

He replies by sliding his shirt off his shoulders with a little grunt. Worry plasters itself all over your face and you don’t make any attempt to hide it. He watches as you walk towards the opposite end of the room - grabbing a towel and a bowl of water. You clean the wound by pressing on it, even though it seems like the blood has dried. It’s rough - you’re rough with him. A sharp inhale of air makes its way through his teeth. 

You don’t apologize, nor do you want to. He watches as you clean the blood off and then inspect the wound for a long while. Afterwards, you mumble underneath your breath, speaking mostly to yourself than to him. 

“No stitches needed.. that’s good,” 

You sound so relieved his heart aches. There’s a brief moment of silence where neither of you know what to say and Tartaglia stares at you with soft eyes. There is always this longing feeling. A constancy to his need for your touch that brings him to his knees, weakens his resolve until he’s stumbling to your bedroom instead of going to see a doctor or a god. He needs you before he needs forgiveness or life. For him, loving you is an act one can only describe as selfish 

He knows this because he still comes to you like this, body bruised and battered. When your worry filled eyes look over his skin, he feels like a second rain has come. Your concern is it’s own addiction, intoxicated by it. It is selfish to want you to worry, even more so to make sure of it. 

But how else can he hold your love if not to make you look at it? How else can he know love if it’s not in the furrow of your brow or the way you push him so hard. When you get angry for him and at him. What is love if not a violence? If not teeth in the nape of his neck or your fingers on his bruises?

You rub alcohol in his wounds to clean them before taking your fingers and dipping them into a cream. It smells like mint, making his eyes water. You do this step with care, running your hands over fierce marks and scars with heartbreak written all over your eyes. 

Love must be a violence. It must be - this stinging feeling in the way you look at him like he is a dead man walking. Love must be a hurricane that rips through him. A storm, an uncentered and reckless devotion. He thinks, even if it was your hands who gave him this wound, he would ask you again to heal it. 

Tears spill at your lashes. He softens, smiles. 

“C’mere” 

You relent, give in. Exhaustion settling in your bones you let yourself be wrapped into his arms. He holds you to him, lets you be frustrated with him. He is too, would you know?

Love finds him like this, in your room. Begging you to look at him, getting drunk off the taste of your devotion. You squeeze his heart in your palms and he lets you. He would let you a hundred times over. 

KAEYA 

Sobriety is a fragile thing. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like being sober, but he spends most of his time around liquor. It’s comforting - the smell, the rush of heat - not scorching but warm, the dizziness. Kaeya doesn’t drink enough to have a drinking problem but more times than not, he wonders if there are answers at the bottom of a bottle. If maybe he chases the end of the pint, he can find answers on his own misery. 

Sobriety is.. fragile in that way. So easily he could drink himself to sleep but he has duty and responsibility. A life to live and sins to atone for but the laundry list of them just keeps growing larger. Bigger than his dexterous hands can cover for. It’s not that he’s miserable or lonely, but there is this lingering hollowness in his chest. 

On his fathers birthday, he sits on the rooftop and drinks. He takes about 3 days off, every year, just for this. He’ll sit on the rooftop of the tavern day of, legs swinging off the edge as the world becomes an array of color beneath him. His thumb is over the mouth of the wine bottle, and he moves it just to drink. 

The sound of your voice doesn’t startle him, but it makes goosebumps appear on his skin. He’s clad in a thin white dress shirt and it prickles as the breezes brushes by him. His chest is warm as you drop yourself down next to him. 

At first, all you do is sit silently. Leaning back on your palms, you watch the stars and constellations shimmer like they always do in Teyvat. He smells strongly of alcohol but it’s nothing to scrunch your nose at. He takes another drink. Unsure of how to handle his misery, his grief gracefully at all - he gives you a strained smile. 

“Has someone come to join me in my demise,” ― his voice is raspy when he speaks but he doesn’t miss a bit ― “How apt,” 

Wordlessly, you take the bottle from his hands. He’s about to argue with you to give it back but instead, he watches you take three long gulps before pouring the rest out. Shocked, he watches it drip down the tile and onto the concrete below. 

“Why’re you...” 

You don’t reply with words but instead, lay back and drag him down with you. He can’t help but wonder what you’re doing. He lays down anyway, back hitting the tile as he blinks. 

“How long do you plan on living like this?”

There’s no hidden meaning to your words. They are straightforward and laced with nothing but honesty. It makes him choke back a sob, the way you ask. Without much left to give, he cracks a barren smile. 

“What could you possibly mean?” 

Normally, you’d laugh at his despair. At his attempt at nonchalance. But you don’t, turning to your side to look at him. You reach your hand out to rest on his chest and he grabs your hand, shutting his eyes. Tears pool at his lashes but he laughs anyways. 

“Kaeya,” ― you say, rubbing his chest and scooting in close to him. He turns to face you, for real, for the first time ― “How long, Kaeya?” 

He doesn’t sob. Doesn’t cry or let himself be hurt. He gives you a misty smile and laughs as tears falls horizontal on his cheeks. You can hear his heart rate, erratic but slow. 

“When it feels like enough.. when I’m forgiven,” he tells you. 

“Whose forgiveness will it take? Dilucs?” 

He shakes his head, unsure. You press your hand onto his skin, golden even in the cold blue of night. His cheeks are in your palms, he shakes his head. 

“I don’t know,” he confesses. You sigh as you wrap an arm around his waist, loose. You bring his body to yours, letting your fingers rest in his scalp. In the nape of your neck, warm tears rolls down your shoulder. Your body is a safety like a brick house - like no wind or storm and disaster could ever take him from you. When he lets his cries turn into sobs, he mourns. 

A life he doesn’t remember but atones for. The only family he ever had. For Kaeya, love finds him like this - grieving. A loneliness tearing him apart at the seams, frayed and long forgotten. Love comes to him while he is in tatters, offering itself to him. 

“I forgive you, Kaeya,”― you repeat to him, over and over like an incantation ― “I forgive,” 

This is how love finds him, in your arms. Forgiven

DILUC 

He rests his head against your knee, body stiff after a long day. It’s a wordless evening - sky painted with a layer of pink and orange. It pours into the room in heavy waves, paints his pale skin with a warn shade of pink. His skin is warm from the heat as his shoulders slump in exhaustion. 

You drag your fingers down his scalp before letting them slip beneath the hairtie that keeps his red hairs up. You drag it slowly, carefully down his back until it’s free. Red and unkempt - tangled from days out in the wilds. You give it a quick brush through, a quiet sigh leaving your lips. 

There’s not a proper bathroom here - far out and away from the city. It’s an old house with an outhouse and dusty floors. After a particular difficult encounter with an Abyss Mage, you’d found refuge into the abandoned location. Without a bathroom, it would be hard to freshen up but you gave Diluc a playful half-grin. 

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” 

He thought you were kidding but now the two of you are out by the lake. And this is too intimate for two people who are really only supposed to be working together. It’s too gentle, the way your fingers comb through his red hairs and the little bottled shampoo you keep in your bag. 

There’s something about the way you touch his scalp so careful that is too intimate. His shirt is somewhere inside, over the back of a chair. Pale skin that’s hot to the touch as your fingers work through each individual hair. A long, tired sigh leaves his mouth. 

“So much hair,” ― your murmur under your breath. A blush turns him hot. His father was a good man.. affectionate and caring and proper. But this is different. Too much, even ― “But it looks good on you,” 

You say it so easily. Just like how you touch him - unconcerned for what it means. For Diluc, the idea of romantic love is something awkward. It is clumsy and confusing. Love, has always been something that hurts, more than it has healed. 

But his head is resting on your thigh and you’re touching him like he’s precious. As if he’d break if you’re too rough with him. There is an intimacy in it. A well-meaning and innocent love in the shape of your fingers and how they drag against his skull. 

“...You’re so forward,” he tsks. You give him a gentle laugh, running your hands down his jaw and tilting his head back so he’s facing up at you. Your hands cradle his face with delicacy, thumb dragging across his jaw bone and admiring him. You’re being sincere, but he can’t meet your eyes. 

“You don’t like it?” you ask him. He grabs your hands and puts them away, huffing under his breath. He is childish like this, with you  and only you. No longer the Dark Knight or Master Diluc. Easy to jealousy and even easier to agitation, the kind of man who the world stops for seems to crumble at your feet. 

“No,” he replies, unusually dishonest. 

You lean forward until your arms are wrapped around his barren shoulders. He can feel your skin against his, the way your heartbeat sounds, the fanning of breath of his throat. It’s too much but he can’t move as your arms wrap around his shoulders. You know too much, see too much. There is something so all-knowing about the way you love him. How you tease him. 

Love is a worship when it finds him. You are the closest thing to heaven he has ever believed in - sheer bliss in the way your eyes linger on his silhouette. Diluc is a devout lover for you, a follower in your all-knowing religion of love. Of affection. He leans his head back again to look at you as you look down at him, smiling. 

“You’re troublesome to love, you know that?” he admits to you. You bend down to meet his lips in a kiss. Chaste. Holy 

A smile parts your lips that Dliuc finds himself mirroring. 

“Of course I do,” 

Love finds him like this, in your arms - skin to skin underneath the summer sun. Alone in the fields of tall-grass and wheat. Love finds him like a religion, so much devotion and prayer for you to keep him in your heart always. He knows he would do anything for you.