#its gonna be a wild end of the road

[biteyourbetters]

i've been. doing lots of new things recently. am i finally getting over the stagnation period of my life.

[isaacathom]

last session i (me, all on me) made the choice to split the party because we needed to report a death but we also had an objective to complete. so i went, okay. the guy who can speak the language needs to go talk to the guards, but in case that goes poorly, I'll go with him. The other two will head off to the next objective and try and get a book off a kid.

and it was a solid plan. we reported the death, we headed for objective 3 (as a rendezvous, yknow), encountered some difficulty, and wait.

and it was then that we all sort of realised that the second group i had created, of the doctor and the rogue, is the group with 0 impulse control who had earlier that day sent a horse skidding 20m and sent themselves flying 30m in a real cockup cascade of a horse riding accident.

anyway the rogue broke into the house and ended up nearly getting stabbed by a 10 year old

[oneforthemunny]

blue christmas |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a look at two very different christmases in eddie's life.

apart of munny's merriest masterlist which you can read here!

contains: sad!eddie. parent guilt. divorce. gina. mainly just very lonely christmas angst but some fluff at then end.

Fourteen Years Before

“Hey, have a good one, Munson!” Phil waved a gloved hand, locking the body shop for the night. “Have a Merry Christmas!” Even Christmas Eve held its fair share of wrecks, cars breaking down in the snow, plenty of business even on the holiday. 

“Yeah, you too!” Eddie waved back, hands shoved deep in his utility jacket, heavy and warm for the colder months. His hands fiddled around with the cigarette carton in his coat pocket, pulling out his keys with the cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he slid into the truck. 

The roads were empty, cleared of any traffic on his way to his apartment. The twinkling lights in the yards, strung merrily and proudly for all to see mocked him, a dull reminder of what wasn’t waiting for him at home. 

Home. He used that term loosely. 

The apartments were cheap for a two bedroom, close to Brielle’s school and Eddie’s work. Gina had got the house in the divorce. Eddie didn’t want it, couldn’t afford it on his own after she’d cleared out what little he had. His thumb rubbed over his ring finger out of habit, meeting the calloused skin there instead of the gold band he wore for eight years. 

Eight years. Eight Christmases spent with Gina, with Brielle. They were far from perfect. He and Gina usually fought from Thanksgiving to New Years Eve, but at least he had a tree. At least it was decorated, and there were presents under the tree. 

At least he wasn’t alone. 

Eddie’s heart ached, a jabbing pain that spread through his chest, leaving his throat stinging with an uncomfortable burn. He knew the divorce was the right thing to do, when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting, it’s time. Still, he didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that it’d be this lonely.

That he’d miss it this badly. 

Maybe he should have toughed it out, should have ignored Gina so he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a pitifully empty apartment, in a deafening silence, nursing a beer on Christmas Eve. 

Eddie had put up a ‘tree’, a lighted spiral cone shape he found at a second hand store, after Brielle commented on his lack of decor. “You don’t like Christmas anymore?” 

She’d made him an ornament in art class, which he couldn’t hang on the spiraled lights of the tree, so he taped it on. She was happy with it regardless, grinning and telling him about how her art teacher let her make two. “Since you and mom are divorced.” Eddie’s stomach turned. There was something so sickening about hearing his little girl say those words in such a cheery tone. Made him feel like a complete sack of shit. 

Eddie looked at the clock on the stove, flashing bright, green numbers back at him. He worked later than expected, it was nearly eight, but knowing Brielle she was far from ready for bed- Santa's coming tonight. Eddie’s chest tightened at the thought- he was missing that. 

He grabbed the phone, punching in the numbers carefully, he knew them by heart. The phone rang, and rang. 

“Hello?” Gina’s huffy voice came over the other line. 

“Hey, Gina.” Eddie said awkwardly. “I, uh, I just got home. I was gonna talk to Brielle if she’s still up.” 

“Yeah, she’s still up.” Gina huffed, and he could practically see her eye roll, snarled lips. “You were supposed to call at seven.” 

“I know, I know. I just- I got busy at work. Had to stay overtime.” Eddie ran a hand down his face, knee bouncing. 

“Great. She’s gonna be even more wild now. She’s already losing her damn mind- Brielle, get out of your stocking or I’m throwing it away!” Gina pulled the phone away, shrilling. Eddie’s lips curled, hearing the cackle in the background, she was his daughter. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Eddie started. 

“-Just, whatever. Don’t get her fucking wild, Eddie, I swear to God.” Gina snapped. The phone rustled. “Here.” Gina’s voice was muffled, before the phone settled. 

“Hello?” The little chirp on the other end had Eddie’s heart swelling. 

“Hi, Munchkin.” Eddie grinned softly, voice lilting higher. “Merry Christmas.” 

“It’s Daddy!” Brielle shrilled. “Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” 

“Are you still up?” Eddie sighed softly. “You’re supposed to be asleep. Santa’s coming soon, Brie.” 

“I’ll sleep in a little bit.” Brielle huffed lightly, she sounded like her mother. “When are you comin’ home? I saved you one of the Snowman cookies before Santa eats them, and I have reindeer food to put on the roof. It has glitter in it this time so they can see better.” 

Eddie paused, words choked around the lump in his throat, heart sinking low into the pit of his stomach. 

“Daddy?” Brielle asked, pulling the phone back. “I think it got undone-” 

“-No, no, I’m here, Brielle.” Eddie’s voice was tight, hand pressed into his eyes. “Um, I-I’m not coming home tonight, remember?” A ragged breath shook out of his chest, and he hoped she didn’t hear it. “I’m coming to get you tomorrow afternoon, and we’re going to Grandpa’s.” 

“Oh,” Brielle’s tiny voice was filled with disappointment, it tore Eddie’s heart right out of his chest. “Even on Christmas?” 

“Yeah, baby. Even on Christmas. Remember me and mom told you, you’d get two Christmases. One with each of us.” Eddie tried to keep his voice steady. 

“But not together?” Brielle muttered, a complete turn around from her previous excited tone. 

“No, not together. I’m sorry, Brie.” Eddie pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath in to keep his emotions in. 

“That’s ok.” Her tone told him otherwise. 

“But I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? And you can tell me all about what Santa brought you, and then we’ll go to Grandpa’s and you’ll have even more gifts to open.” Eddie hoped his tone was convincing. 

“Ok.” Brielle muttered sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, you will, I promise.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, nose burning with tears. “Good night, Brie. Dream of those sugar plums, alright? Love you.” 

“G'night. Love you.” Brielle repeated solemnly. 

The phone rattled for a moment, Eddie clearing his throat lightly. The line settled for a moment and he waited for Gina’s voice. A harsh dial tone came instead. 

Eddie tried to ignore the hurt that pounded in his chest. He felt grimy, gross, and disappointed in himself. He felt alone, most of all. 

Shaky fingers punched the buttons on the phone, knee bouncing as he lit a cigarette, pulling the ashtray closer to him on the kitchen table. “Hello?” Steve Harrington’s accommodating tone came through the line, a loud screech of children’s laughter in the background. 

“Hey, Steve.” Eddie cringed at the shake in his tone, swallowing. “Sorry to bother you, I, uh, I just wanted to-” 

“-Daddy! One present, please?” 

“Yeah! Just one! One!”

“Hang on,” Steve huffed. “No, ok? Mom said no, and you know she’s the boss. You better stop, alright? It’s not too late to get on Santa’s bad list. I’ll call him right now and tell him to skip the Harrington residence-” 

“No!” A chorus of cries in the background made Eddie smile, his chest aching even more with an unfamiliar feeling. 

Tiny stampedes of feet cleared in the background. “Sorry, it’s a zoo over here, Ed.” Steve snorted lightly. 

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Eddie laughed lightly, stopping himself gently. “Well, actually, I don’t. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I was calling.” Eddie exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. “I, uh, I just called Brielle, and she’s-” 

“-Steven! I need help in here!” Nancy’s voice pierced through the phone, sharp even in the background. 

“Fuck. Hey, Ed, can I call you back? We’re trying to make cookies, and they’re decorating the baby.” Steve sighed. “I’m telling you, these kids are insane. I’m about to rip my hair out, and I still gotta make a fuckin’ dollhouse.” Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper. 

“Yeah, no, I get it. Don’t worry about it, man.” Eddie felt his waterline flood. “Go be with your family.” 

“Alright, I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Munson.” Steve hummed over the line. 

“Merry Christmas.” Eddie muttered, the dial tone cutting him off again. 

He leaned back in the dining room chair, cigarette burning between his fingers. Alone.

Present

“Eddie!” You called, wrangling the squirming one year old in your arms, Delilah was determined to get to the shiny presents, squealing and cackling. She was just crawling, thankfully, toddling but not as sure, but she was fast. 

“Ed, get the phone!” You yelled, the trill of the landline Eddie still had around filled the house. Brielle in front of you, in pajamas that matched her little sisters, phone dangling from her grasps. 

“She’s gonna open a present tonight.” Brielle giggled, recording her sister happily. 

“Yeah, or tear the tree down.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I told you a candy cane was too much.” You glared at Eddie playfully. He’d snuck her tastes of a candy cane earlier at your parent’s house, laughing at how her eyes lit up. 

Eddie grinned, snagging the phone off the hook. “Hello?” 

There was a silence, the tiniest hitch of a breath on the other line. Eddie frowned, looking down at the caller id. “Hello?” 

“Is Brielle there?” The huffy, snide of a tone that he’d know anywhere. Gina. Why she was calling him on Christmas Eve, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he had an idea that it was due to Brielle’s silent treatment towards her after Gina’s rage filled rant about Lilah’s birth.

“Hello, Gina. Merry Christmas to you.” Eddie clipped, eyes rolling. “Yeah, she’s here.” 

Gina paused, and Eddie could picture her even now, nails tapping against the table furiously, anxiously. “Well, can you- can I talk to her?” 

Eddie’s head turned, his gaze meeting Brielle’s. She shook her head, brows raised nearly in offense at the suggestion. “Uh, Gina, she-she’s kinda busy right now-” 

“-Right.” Gina scoffed, tone harsh but Eddie could hear it, the traces of hurt lingering in the defensiveness. “Guess she likes the child bride more than her actual mother-” 

“-Alright, Gina.” Eddie huffed. “You have a good one. Merry Christmas.” 

“Wait!” The shrill in her tone, desperate and alarming. 

Eddie waited, holding the phone back to his ear. Gina huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Can you… Can you talk to her?” Her voice was small, quiet. “Just-Just tell her I want to see her, and I have gifts for her, and-and,” There was a pause, a shaky breath. “Tell her I miss her and I love her?” 

Eddie’s chest ached for her sympathetically. He knew she deserved it, that Brielle was probably in the right with her cruelty. Still, Eddie sympathized with her. The bitter loneliness of being alone during the holidays. 

“Yeah, Gina. I can do that.” Eddie nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell her.” 

“Thanks.” The word was clipped, drowned in disdain and followed with a sniffle. 

“Have a Merry Christmas, Gina.” Eddie sighed softly, hanging up the phone with a final click. 

He turned back to the living room. You and Brielle were still desperately trying to distract Lilah from the shining ornaments with her toys, rattling and shaking them in front of her so she squealed, only to turn back to the tree. 

Eddie smiled, scooping up the baby, tossing her in the air gently so she screeched in laughter. “She’s never going to sleep.” You grinned warmly, starry eyed watching Eddie cuddle your baby. 

“Nah, she’ll sleep in a little bit.” Eddie shrugged, snuggling her close to his chest. Delilah turned into his touch, face pressing into his chest, rubbing her face sleepily into the soft cotton of his Christmas pajama shirt that matched with his girls. 

His brows shot up, grinning triumphantly. You snorted, rolling your eyes lightly. “Alright, Santa. What kind of cookies do you want?” 

“Whatever kind you wanna make me, bunny. ‘M not picky.” Eddie hummed, rocking Delilah against his chest gently. 

“I bought the Snowman sugar cookie ones.” Brielle smiled brightly. “I can make them.” 

Eddie’s chest filled with warmth, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms, heavy lids pulling shut with sleep, knuckling at them. The lights on the tree seemed brighter and brighter as the years passed. A real tree this time, filled with ornaments and memories hanging on the branches, room for more as the years went on.  

[thenighthekate]

Am I the one you want ( t.k. )

This little thing, once proud in love and lust, now hides its face and soon it will be dust.

Her hair was wild, flying around in the wind. Her eyes closed, her back arched, the window rolled down as they sped on the highway. It was late at night, the moon already shining for hours, casting a silver glow above the streets. Stars twinkled in the dark sky, the small light specks reflecting in his eyes.

She turned to look at him, a small smile pulled her lips, a childish look on her face. Her hand reached out to touch his thigh, his gaze suddenly turning from the road to look at her. Tom matched her expression, his own fingers travelling to her head, gently taking a strand of hair and putting it behind her ear.

" Watch where you're going." Her soft voice sounded over the roaring of the car and the radio wich was playing a random tune.

" Don't worry about it." He said with a light laugh, his eyes shifting ahead of him for just a second. She let out a hum, turning back to look out the open window.

Hills and mountains flashed by them, his car speeding further up. It felt like they were getting closer to the sky, the cold night air hitting them in their faces, for a moment it felt like they would reach the clouds.

They came to a stop not far from the drop of the hill, plants littering the area. She opened the door and got out, rocks and sand turning underneath her feet as she walked closer to the edge, her arms folding and holding herself around her waist. She felt calm, the sort of calmness you would feel at the world's end, no backing out.

Tom walked closer to her frame, his chest hitting her back, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. She could feel his breath meet her neck, his nose inching closer only to be nuzzled in her hair. Light kisses were left on her skin, their bodies swaying left to right.

" When are you going to be all mine?" It came out as a whisper, so quiet and pure he almost didn't catch it. He thought they were done with this conversation, he thought he had answered all the life questions that were clouding her mind.

With a slightly annoyed sigh he stepped back from her warmth, his feet carrying him back to the car, his body leaning against the shiny exterior as he shuffled around his pockets. She turned to look at him, frown upon her face, her eyebrows scrunched and sad eyes staring up at him. " It's not as simple as you think." A cigarette sat comfortably between his lips, a hand cupping the end while he sparked a flame to light it. " Even if I bring up divorce now it's not gonna be another year till I'm single." His tone shifted, now becoming a full dad voice.

The voice was the one he used often, whenever she didn't get something his whole demeanor would switch. Honestly it made her feel small, stupid in the worst scenarios.

" You could give peace a chance for once." She watched as smoke swirled around his head, through the gray clouds his piercing eyes still throwing daggers in hers.

" You're young, have the world in your hands. You should live."

" You're calling me delusional for wanting you?" With every word that left her mouth she stepped closer, poison flowing freely from her lips.

Yet another sigh sounded out from the man in front of her, his forehead creasing, trying to see the girl's mind. " It's not easy for me either, but if I do it now it's gonna create a lot of drama." The cigarette was long forgotten, only the ashy bud was laying on the ground beneath them. " You know I love you, right?" She was at an arm reach, his words thick like honey pulling her closer and sticking her common sense into a bundle. With his arms around her waist, they're noses were almost touching, sharing the same air in between them.

Her lashes fluttered for a second before she nodded, big eyes staring up into the face of her lover.

She knew this cycle would continue, she knew his heart was split between her and the woman who could actually show him off. The woman who got to sleep next to him every night, the woman whose arms he'll always run back to. It was toxic, she knew it. She knew that the older man infront of her would only bring pain, love for a night and an aching heart for the rest of the week. She was stupid, naive, far too young to be expecting to be his first choice.

Part two Part three

[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what���”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

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Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28

Series Tags: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: Jungkook and your sister gets married and you can’t wait to marry the love of your life too.

🐴Chapter title: By My Side

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

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

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

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

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

🐴Chapter warnings: so much love, so much fluff, so many kisses, it’s wedding season yay, explicit description of sex; oral (female and male receiving), marking/biting (I swear they are not animals lol), dirty/sweet talk, multiple orgasms, spanking, nipple play, rough(er) sex, slight exhibitionism, caught in the act 👀

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 14.7k

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

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “By My Side” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: how are you all doing? We’re almost at the end of the road and I just wanted to say how thankful I am for each and everyone of you guys 😭💖 Especially to all of you that leave me nice, sweet, sad or yelling comments— truly you mean so much to me!! I’m sorry that some of you have dropped off, or stopped commenting, but, ah, it’s okay, even though it makes me wonder if you don’t like it anymore (which is also fine). I get too much into my head, lol. But I just wanted to say that I’m really grateful! Chapter 19 is the last ‘official’ chapter, as chapter 20 is the epilogue (with the Q&A I really hope that you’ll participate in /comment or ask/ otherwise it’s fine, I’ve already got a few questions lined up!). Thank you for joining me on this wild ride 💖 The song that Jimin is playing on the piano is “Love Somebody” by Lukas Graham.

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

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

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

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“Gonna throw my arms around you And hold you tight Gonna throw my arms around you We’re gonna dance all night” - ‘By My Side’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Everything is just going wrong.

The relentless heat pulls down on you like a vengeful sun god, threatening to sap every ounce of strength from your weary body until you collapse, a mere casualty of its unyielding fury.

As the high summer sun reigns supreme once more, you find yourself marveling at the passage of time, unable to comprehend that you’ve already spent two entire years in this place you call home.

Amidst the chaos of the ranch, the sheep have staged a daring escape from their paddock, their wooly forms darting erratically across the landscape. With determination etched on your faces, you, Jimin, Soo-ah, and Ara scramble to corral them, matching their frantic energy step for step, while Yoongi works tirelessly to mend the broken fence.

The urgency of your sister’s impending wedding hangs in the air, but the chaos of the ranch seems determined to steal the spotlight. Despite the pressing need to assist her in her preparations, you find yourself ensnared in the unpredictable drama unfolding outside. With a mixture of amusement and concern, you watch as your sister, clad in her elegant wedding gown, bravely joins the fray, chasing after a wayward sheep. The sight is both comical and endearing, though you can’t help but worry that her gown may carry the brunt of the day’s unexpected escapades, threatening to pollute the perfection of her special day.

“Jessi, get back inside and finish getting ready!” You shout over the clamor of bleating sheep, your voice laced with urgency as you dart between the animals, determined to block their escape routes and guide them back to safety.

She grumbles, her frustration palpable in the sweltering air. “No, everything’s a mess. I can’t in good conscience sit and wait for everyone to fix all of this,” she insists, gesturing emphatically to the banners and decorations hanging around the property, clinging on for dear life as if fighting against the relentless heat themselves.

“The cake hasn’t even arrived yet,” she starts, frustration evident in her voice, “and the food is still nowhere to be seen. The caterers are running late too, of course.”

With sheer determination, she seizes a sheep and drags it through the chaos of the yard, guiding it back into the pen with a triumphant grunt.

“Some of our friends are stuck in sudden traffic, on roads that are normally as deserted as ghost towns,” she hisses through clenched teeth while securing the gate, “it’s like everything is spiraling into a fucking disaster!”

“Look, I understand, but it would be a huge help if you could just head back inside, get ready, and make sure nothing happens to that dress,” you plead with your sister, feeling the weight of the chaotic situation. Behind you, Jimin appears, a silent but supportive presence.

“We’ll handle the sheep,” he reassures your sister with a warm smile, gently nudging her towards the house, but she remains adamant, refusing to heed reason.

“No,” she insists, determination blazing in her eyes as she rushes to corral another sheep, “We sort out these sheep first, then I’ll finish getting ready.”

You watch her dart around in slippers, makeup half-done, and hair neatly pinned, a whirlwind of determination amidst the chaos. It’s a surreal scene, part comedy, part calamity, and wholly ridiculous, you can’t help but think to yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes in amused exasperation, and you both stand there, transfixed, watching your stubborn sister darting about like a whirlwind. It’s a spectacle of determination amidst the chaos, and you can’t help but be amazed by her tenacity.

“Should we do something to stop her, before she ruins her dress?” Jimin whispers, his concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the earnestness in his voice, as you both contemplate whether to intervene or let her stubborn determination play out.

“I don’t think we can do anything and I doubt either Jungkook or Jessi are too concerned about the dress at this point,” you chuckle, reminiscing about your sister's quip during her dress fittings, when she joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to tear it off. “But hey, at least it’ll make for a memorable story,” you add with a grin, watching as Jessi continues her frantic chase around the yard.

“Come on, let’s lend a hand and wrangle these wooly escape artists,” you suggest, a hint of determination in your voice. “We’re cutting it close to the ceremony, and I’d rather not be chasing sheep in a fancy dress any longer than necessary.” With a quick glance at Jimin, you dash off in pursuit of a particularly elusive sheep, the hem of your purple satin dress swishing around your ankles as you go.

With Jimin and Soo-ah at your heels, you plunge into the chaos of scampering sheep. Together, you dart and dive amidst the wooly fugitives, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of the chase. With practiced precision, you snatch up stray sheep, your movements a blur of determination and adrenaline. Each successful capture is a victory, a step closer to restoring order to the ranch and salvaging the wedding day.

As you catch your breath, you scan the scene before you, noting your sister’s approach. Her once pristine dress is now adorned with streaks of dirt, a testament to her relentless pursuit of wayward sheep. Despite the disarray, her determined stride speaks volumes—this is a woman on a mission, unwilling to let even the chaos of runaway livestock derail her wedding day.

“You look like you’ve been wrestling with the sheep,” you tease, gesturing to the dirt stains on her dress, but she just shrugs it off with a determined grin.

“Are we done with the sheep now?” She asks, a wide grin on her face, a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“I believe so,” you breathe out, your legs trembling slightly. You can’t help but note how out of shape you are.

“Alright. I’ll head back in and let Ha-rin work her magic on me,” she smiles at you before disappearing into the house.

Soo-ah and Ara comes bounding after her, declaring, “We need to get ready too!”

Both you and Jimin share a laugh at her eagerness, your hands finding each other naturally amidst the chaos.

“You look absolutely dashing in that suit,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his collar before drawing him closer for a tender kiss.

As you catch your breath, Jimin’s hand finds its place on your hips, a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos. “You look absolutely stunning in that satin dress,” he murmurs, his eyes alight with admiration as he drinks in your beauty.

His gaze intensifies, tracing the contours of your form with an unspoken hunger. In a moment of raw desire, he leans in for another kiss, his lips seeking the warmth of yours with a passion that ignites the air around you.

“Ahem,” as Yoongi clears his throat behind you, his interruption breaks the intimate moment with Jimin, drawing your attention away from his embrace. With a blush rising to your cheeks, you pivot to meet Yoongi’s gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a tender exchange.

Yoongi’s furrowed brow accentuates his concern as he addresses the emerging problem, “I’ve finished fixing the fence, but should we let Jessi know about the horses breaking out?”

Your sudden pivot towards Yoongi, eyes wide with concern, mirrors the rush of hopelessness engulfing you. “Shit, they have?” You blurt out, your voice tinged with urgency.

Jimin’s expression mirrors your own mix of surprise and weariness. “Definitely don’t tell her that,” he agrees, his voice tinged with a hint of dread.

With a frustrated grumble, you snatch the hair elastic from your locks, securing the hem of your dress around the thickest parts of your thighs. Thankfully, you’re in boots, not the heels meant for the wedding. “We have to round them up too,” you sigh, starting towards the stables and the adjacent paddock.

As you, your boyfriend, and Yoongi approach the paddock, it becomes evident that the fences remain intact; rather, it seems someone neglected to secure the gate.

You release a frustrated sigh. “Such a silly mistake. It’s probably one of the city guests,” you grumble, eyeing the horses as they gallop around the yard in front of the stables.

“At least they’re just out here,” Yoongi says, his voice tinged with a touch of defeat, “so we don’t have to saddle up a horse to get them.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Jimin says, his determination cutting through the weariness as he strides towards Marshmallow, while you head over to Mikrokosmos. Yoongi takes charge of Cinnamon and the other horses, a sense of urgency in his movements.

The three of you work in unison, coaxing and guiding the remaining horses back into their stalls. With each successful capture, you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing down on you. If it were your wedding day, you’d likely be a wreck with all these mishaps, but your sister’s calm demeanor is a stark contrast. She’s handling it with remarkable ease, almost too casual given the circumstances.

“Alright, now that we’ve sorted out the horse situation, let’s head down to the terrace and ensure everything’s set up perfectly before we check on Jessi,” Jimin suggests, a warm smile gracing his lips as he takes your hand, leading the way to the terrace.

As Yoongi trails closely behind, you descend to the terrace, greeted by a scene far from the envisioned perfection. String lights hang precariously, as if ready to tumble, the floral archway stands incomplete, and the chairs remain stacked, untouched.

“Who the fuck thought this half-assed setup was acceptable?” You exclaim, gesturing to the haphazard scene that falls far short of wedding readiness.

“We better get it sorted, and quick,” Yoongi declares, already diving into action to rectify the situation. He swiftly begins readjusting the string lights, wrapping them securely around the wooden poles on the terrace.

You stride purposefully towards the archway, the symbolic heart of your sister’s impending union with Jungkook. Your hands reach for the scattered roses, their rich red hue a testament to passion and enduring love. Though not Jessi’s favorite, she chose them for their timeless significance in romance. With meticulous care, you intertwine the roses through the wire of the archway, each blooming a promise of the love that will be declared beneath its embrace.

As you weave the roses through the archway, your thoughts drift to the upcoming wedding ceremony. It’s endearing that Jessi and Jungkook chose this picturesque terrace for their special day. With a wistful smile, you envision your own future nuptials with Jimin, the love of your life. Your gaze falls to your hand, where the glimmering purple gemstone of your ring catches the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors. You wonder, will your wedding day unfold flawlessly, bathed in perfection, or will it, like today, be a delicate balance of chaos and charm?

Jimin meticulously arranges the chairs in front of the archway, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. The mere thought of marrying him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach, anticipation and love intertwining in a beautiful symphony.

As Yoongi finishes with the string lights, he joins you at the archway, carefully weaving more lights into its frame. The vision of the terrace illuminated in the soft glow of the lights fills your mind with anticipation, imagining how enchanting it will look as night falls.

“Should I add some light to the piano too?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the bustling scene, his eyes flickering between you and Jimin. Jimin responds with a nod, a smile gracing his lips, affirming the idea with silent approval.

“That’s a brilliant idea,” you remark, a glint of excitement dancing in your eyes. You adore the thought of Jimin serenading the wedding guests with his piano. His decision to bring it here fills you with anticipation, especially knowing he’ll grace the event with his melodious voice. Each note he plays and every lyric he sings has a magical way of captivating your soul, tugging at the strings of your heart with its angelic resonance.

Just the thought is already setting your heart aflutter, anticipating the magic it will bring to the celebration.

As the thorn pricks your finger, a sharp curse escapes your lips, its sting piercing through the bustling preparations. Glancing down, you find a tiny droplet of blood welling up at the tip of your thumb. Grimacing at the inconvenience, you apply pressure to staunch the flow, though it continues to seep through. Jimin’s concerned voice breaks through the chaos, drawing his attention to your injury. “Did you cut yourself?” He inquires, his eyes scanning your hand with worry.

“Yeah, these damn roses,” frustration drips from your words as you lament the troublesome roses, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone. Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand soothes the irritation, his concern palpable as he inspects the injury. With a relieved sigh, you notice the bleeding has ceased, a silent testament to his comforting presence. “I don’t think I want roses at our wedding,” you quip, a wry smile tugging at your lips amidst the chaos.

“I want anything you want,” he murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance amidst the chaos, “if you don’t want roses, we’ll find some other flowers.” His words carry a promise, a vow to prioritize your desires above all else, igniting a warmth in your heart that transcends the fleeting mishaps of the day.

You smile at your fiancé, a surge of affection welling up within you, and you lean in to seal the moment with a tender kiss, a silent promise of love and unity amidst the whirlwind of preparations.

“Looks like everything’s finally falling into place,” Yoongi remarks with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire the twinkling string lights, casting a warm glow over the terrace.

You all pause to soak in the scene before you; the chairs adorned with soft white fabric, carefully tied with dashes of vibrant red, adding a touch of elegance. The archway bursts with the crimson hue of roses, their lush green leaves accentuating their beauty. Everywhere, string lights dance in the gentle breeze, casting a warm glow, even delicately draped around the microphone stationed before the piano, completing the enchanting ambiance.

“I think we’re done too. Great work, everyone!” You beam with pride, clapping for Yoongi and Jimin, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over you. With the decorations sorted, your attention shifts to the remaining tasks: ensuring the food, cake, and guests are all in order, and most importantly, attending to your sister’s needs on her special day.

“Could one of you give Jungkook a quick check-in? I’ll go see how Jessi’s doing,” you suggest, a warm smile gracing your lips as you loosen the hair tie around your dress, allowing it to cascade back into its original position.

“Alright, I’ll catch up with my brother,” Jimin volunteers, planting a tender kiss on your lips before you make your way into the house.

As you step into your sister’s room, Ha-rin is meticulously tending to her, perfecting both her hair and makeup. The sight that meets your eyes takes your breath away: your sister’s hair is elegantly styled, cascading in a charming bob adorned with delicate flowers, while her makeup adds a subtle glow, accentuating her natural beauty with finesse.

“You look absolutely stunning,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion. You fight back tears, determined not to smudge your own makeup. Save it for later, you remind yourself, knowing there will be countless moments ahead to let your emotions flow.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, but there's a hint of unease in her eyes, a flicker of something unspoken.

“What’s wrong?” You inquire, a mix of curiosity and concern lacing your words.

“Well,” she begins, her voice tinged with disappointment, “the caterer called. They can’t make it. There’s some kind of accident on the road, making it impossible for them to get here.” Your eyes widen, and your heart sinks to the floor at the news.

“Which also means that some of the guests are stuck in said traffic,” she adds, her voice deflated, mirroring your own sinking feeling.

“Oh no,” you murmur, sinking onto the edge of her bed, the weight of the unexpected news heavy on your shoulders.

“I can whip up some quick food for everybody,” Ha-rin offers, her nimble fingers deftly placing more flower pins in your sister’s hair, her voice a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty.

“Really?” Jessi’s eyes widen with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, you are also a guest, you know. You’re not supposed to be working.”

“Yes, it’s fine. You know I love to cook, and I’ll call Seokjin and ask if he can come now and help,” she says, her smile radiating reassurance, a beacon of calm amid the chaos.

“What about the guests that can’t get here in time?” you inquire, a small smile playing on your lips, though worry lingers beneath the surface.

“That’s just too bad for them. We are sticking to the schedule. I think the most important people are here anyway,” she declares with a soft smile gracing her lips. You catch the glint in her eyes, brimming with excitement as she eagerly anticipates marrying the love of her life.

“Eh, what about the cake?” You interject, a sudden realization dawning on you as you recall the neglected task.

“It’s on its way, but also stuck in traffic,” your sister replies with a smile, her words laced with optimism. “It’s okay. Today will still be the best day of my life, even if some things are missing. Those little hiccups won’t dim the magic of this moment.”

You smile, grateful for her resilient outlook on things.

Ha-rin’s already on the phone with Seokjin, and he’s assured them he and Namjoon are on their way, ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. Ha-rin’s already bustling downstairs, preparing to whip up something quick.

Feeling the tension lift, you place a reassuring hand on your sister’s shoulder as she sits before her vanity. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, you ask, “Are you ready?” 

Her reflection grins back, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I wish mom was here, or my dad,” her words carry a weight of longing as she smiles, a melancholy veil over her features. You nod in silent understanding. The absence of loved ones, especially on such a significant day, leaves an unmistakable void. It’s a sentiment you’ve grappled with too, ever since Jimin proposed. The thought lingers – the absence of your father to walk you down the aisle. Yet, in that moment, you realize something profound: tradition holds less significance when you’re confident in your own capability, as is your sister.

“I’ll head downstairs to check on the guests, alright? It’s nearly time. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to escort you when the moment arrives,” you assure her with a warm smile, offering a comforting squeeze of her hand before swiftly exiting the room.

You rush downstairs, finding Ha-rin already engrossed in her culinary wizardry. Then, darting outside to the terrace, you scan the arrivals. Among them are your dearest friends, recognizable instantly amidst the gathering crowd. Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, Soo-ah, Ara, your fiancé, and Seokjin hustle past you, bound for the kitchen. Each one exudes a magnetic charm, their presence lending an air of elegance and anticipation to the gathering.

You make your way to Jimin, curiosity piqued. “Where’s your brother?”

Jimin lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching up to scratch his head. “He’s running a bit late. His truck had a flat tire.”

You groan in exasperation, a blend of frustration and humor evident in your voice. “Oh my god. Nothing is going the way that it’s supposed to today, is it?”

“He’ll be here soon, everything will be fine,” he reassures you, his touch warm and reassuring as he gently lifts your hand for a quick, comforting kiss.

As you scan the gathering, more familiar faces start to trickle in — friends and family you rarely get the chance to see. With a warm smile, you greet each one, exchanging brief but heartfelt words, all the while hoping fervently that the ceremony will indeed begin soon.

As you usher people to their seats in front of the archway, a distant rumble draws your attention. Your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s Jungkook arriving at last. But as the vehicle draws nearer, relief washes over you; it’s the officiator, whom you had completely forgotten about until now. Despite the oversight, you’re grateful for his timely arrival.

The officiator hurries out of his car, a hint of urgency in his steps as he apologizes for being late. You offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it’s alright, and in fact, the groom has yet to arrive, so his timing couldn’t be better.

With a surge of anxious energy, you fish out your phone from your purse and glance at the time. Jungkook should have arrived by now, and the knot of worry tightens in your stomach. The anticipation builds, your nerves tingling as if it were your own wedding day unraveling before you.

The distant growl of a dirt bike engine reaches your ears, and instinctively, you know it’s Jungkook. The rhythmic scrape of tires against earth crescendos as he maneuvers closer, the anticipation heightening with each passing moment. Finally, he parks beside the terrace, his arrival marking a crucial piece falling into place in the intricate mosaic of the day’s events.

As he removes his helmet, his ebony locks cascade in disarray, adding an untamed allure to his rugged appearance. Clad in a sleek black tux, he exudes an effortless charm that catches your eye. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he strides toward you, a grin illuminating his features like a beacon of warmth amidst the day’s chaos.

With a sheepish grin, Jungkook offers his apologies for his tardiness, his words tumbling out in a rush of explanation. “I’m so sorry for being late. I couldn’t find a spare tire for the truck, so I took the bike. How’s everything going?”

You fill Jungkook in on the current chaos with a reassuring smile, noting the absence of food and cake but the improvised efforts of Ha-rin and Seokjin. As you steady him with a grip on his arm, you notice his restless energy. “Well, most people have arrived, the food and cake is missing, but Ha-rin and Seokjin are whipping something up instead, and Jessi is waiting upstairs for her cue,” you say, your tone calm amidst the flurry. “Are you nervous?”

Jungkook beams back, his excitement palpable. “No, I’m just excited,” he replies, his grin infectious, spreading warmth through his words.

“Great, if you head over to the archway, I’ll go fetch Jessi,” you say, your smile encouraging as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze before heading off to find your sister.

You rush back upstairs to your sister’s bedroom and discover her in tears, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Concern floods through you as you hasten to her side, enfolding her in a protective embrace. “What’s happened?” You inquire urgently, your voice laced with worry.

Your sister’s current state is unusual, adding to your concern. It’s rare to see her like this, and that’s what’s truly troubling you.

Her breaths come in ragged gasps, as if each one is a battle. “The nerves are getting to me,” she manages between uneven breaths.

You come to a poignant realization in that moment—beneath her resilient exterior lies vulnerability, just like anyone else. Wrapping your arms around her, you offer solace, acknowledging her humanity. “It’s all gonna be okay. Kook’s here, looking so damn handsome,” you assure her, hoping to ease her nerves.

Your reassuring touch rests gently on her shoulders as you offer comforting words. “Despite the chaos earlier, everything’s set. The only thing missing downstairs is you,” you assure her, conveying both readiness and anticipation for the momentous occasion awaiting her.

With a soft sniffle, she delicately dabs at her tears, ensuring her makeup remains flawless, a determined effort not to let her emotions overshadow her beauty.

“I’m ready, let's go,” she declares, her voice steadying with determination, a final sniffle betraying her resolve as she stands up, ready to face the moment head-on.

Despite the smudges of dirt along the hem of her dress, she radiates an undeniable beauty, the gown hugging her form like it was made for her alone.

As her fingers intertwine with yours, a silent bond of sisterly solidarity forms. Descending the staircase together, you halt at the threshold of the terrace, stealing a fleeting moment to convey your unwavering support. “Remember, I love you, and everything will fall into place. It’s your time now. Go out there and claim your happiness.”

With a radiant smile in return, she embraces the moment, and you dash outside to join the assembly, making your way to the archway where Jungkook, Jimin, and the officiator stand. As you position yourself as your sister’s bridesmaid, a swell of emotion overtakes you at the sight of the gathered guests. Tears well in your eyes, understanding the depth of this moment for your sister, realizing the profound emotions that accompany such a significant occasion.

As the doors swing open, all heads turn in unison, anticipation palpable in the air. Your sister emerges, a mix of nerves and joy evident in her demeanor. Yet, as her gaze meets Jungkook’s beaming expression, a radiant smile blooms across her face, erasing any lingering apprehension and filling the space with an undeniable warmth.

She steps forward to join Jungkook, their eyes locking in a tender exchange that speaks volumes of their profound affection. Despite the nerves dancing in their gazes, their smiles radiate pure happiness, a testament to the depth of their bond. Witnessing their intertwined emotions, a blend of excitement and anticipation, fills you with a rush of affectionate fondness for the pair before you.

The officiant’s voice resonates, carrying the weight of solemnity and celebration, as he addresses the gathered assembly. “Welcome, cherished family, beloved friends, and dear ones,” he begins, his words weaving a tapestry of unity and affection. “Today, amidst this gathering of love, we commemorate the union of Jungkook and Jessi. In this moment, we stand witness to their profound commitment and rejoice in the boundless love that binds their hearts together, forging a path illuminated by devotion and shared dreams.”

As the officiant continues, his words become an intimate embrace of the couple’s journey, weaving anecdotes of triumphs and trials into a tapestry of enduring love. Each word seems to resonate with the experiences of Jungkook and Jessi, casting a warm glow of recognition and affirmation upon their union. You find yourself smiling, touched by the authenticity and depth of his words, which echo the resilience and commitment that define their relationship.

A wave of emotion washes over you, tightening your throat with a profound sense of affection. Glancing at your fiancé, you find him equally moved, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears yet radiant with a tender smile. His gaze flits between Jungkook, Jessi, and you, each glance brimming with pride and adoration for the bond being celebrated before you.

A hush falls over the gathered guests, anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity, as they collectively grasp the significance of the moment unfolding before them: the exchange of vows.

With a gentle smile gracing his lips, the officiant beckons Jungkook and Jessi to take each other’s hands and stand face to face. “Now,” he says softly, “Jungkook and Jessi, it's time to share the promises you’ve crafted for each other. Let your hearts speak.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, gathering his emotions before he begins. “I, Jungkook, take you, Jessi, just as you are,” he starts, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “From this day forward, I vow to cherish you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve been my friend since the day I moved next door, and through it all, you’ve been there for me, calling me out on my bullshit and lifting me up when I stumbled. Your kindness and love have shaped me in ways I can’t even begin to express. I promise to make every day with you an adventure, to fill our lives with joy and laughter, and to remain faithful to you as we grow old together. I can’t wait to share all my hopes and dreams with you. This, I solemnly pledge to you.”

Tears blur your vision, and you blink rapidly, trying to regain your composure. A glance at Jimin confirms that you’re not alone in your emotional response; his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Around you, guests grapple with their own emotions, alternating between soft sniffles and heartfelt chuckles.

Jimin, by Jungkook’s side, produces the ring, its glimmering presence a testament to their shared journey. You witness Jessi’s trembling anticipation, her eyes shining with love as Jungkook presents her with the ring, a symbol of their commitment. As the ring slips onto her finger, Jessi’s smile breaks through her tears, her emotions overflowing in a silent testament to their love.

Amidst laughter and tears, Jessi’s voice breaks through in a heartfelt chuckle, echoing the sentiment of everyone present. “How can I follow that?” She manages to say, her words laced with emotion, yet filled with joy.

With a determined resolve, Jessi straightens her posture, her gaze locked onto Jungkook’s, as if he’s the sole focus in the crowd. “I, Jessi, take you, Jungkook, as you are,” she begins, her voice unwavering, “and I promise from this day forward to love you with all my heart, to cherish you forever, even when you're being an idiot.” A ripple of laughter passes through the guests, but Jessi continues undeterred. “When I first met you, I knew we would become the bestest of friends,” she recounts warmly, “and though we have both been blind to our love for each other, we’ve always been there since day one. Our love is a slow one, and I can’t wait to watch it build even stronger over time. I promise to always be there for you, like I always have, and to spend eternity with you.”

Your vision blurs with tears again, rendering everything a watery haze. Yet, through the mist, you witness Jessi slipping the ring onto Jungkook’s finger with a tenderness that speaks volumes. They share a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of vows in their eyes, before the officiant’s voice pierces through the moment once more.

“With your declarations of love echoing through the hearts of all gathered here today, surrounded by the embrace of loved ones, I now, with the authority bestowed upon me, declare you husband and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss,” the officiant proclaims, his words resonating with warmth and joy as he steps back, leaving the newlyweds bathed in the glow of love’s triumph.

As Jungkook and Jessi’s lips meet in a tender embrace, a wave of exuberance sweeps through the crowd, erupting in cheers, applause, and jubilant shouts. Their kiss ignites a symphony of celebration, laughter mingling with the joyous cacophony. With twinkling eyes and contagious smiles, they break apart briefly, their hands raised in a playful display before succumbing once more to the intoxicating magic of their love, sealing their union with another tender kiss.

They gracefully traverse the grassy aisle, and each step resonates with the harmony of their newfound bond. With every footfall, the air is charged with a palpable sense of unity and joy. You intertwine your fingers with Jimin’s, the warmth of his hand a comforting reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Together, you and the jubilant assembly trail behind the newlyweds, a vibrant procession of love and celebration, each heartbeat echoing the symphony of affection that fills the air.

In a cascade of affection, you envelop both your sister and Jungkook in a tight embrace, the culmination of their love story tangible in this moment of love. Around you, friends and family converge, their outstretched arms forming a tapestry of heartfelt congratulations, woven with laughter, tears, and boundless joy.

Music fills the air, and Ha-rin and Seokjin’s culinary creations adorn the tables, tempting guests to indulge in a symphony of flavors. Conversations hum with warmth and laughter, a mosaic of shared stories and heartfelt connections, as you and Jimin navigate the lively gathering hand in hand, savoring each moment together amidst the festive atmosphere.

The day wanes into twilight, as the sun’s golden embrace yields to the subtle allure of dusk, the terrace transforms beneath the twinkling glow of the string lights. Their radiant beams cast a spell, painting the scene with an ethereal glow that could rival the most picturesque of rom-com settings. It’s as if the very essence of cinematic romance has descended upon this moment, wrapping you in its embrace and etching this day into the annals of timeless love stories.

As the delectable flavors crafted by Ha-rin and Seokjin dance on your taste buds, satiating your hunger, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, his fingers poised to weave magic into the air. Eagerly, you join him, settling onto the bench beside him, anticipation coursing through your veins like an electric current, ready to be swept away by the enchanting melody he’s about to conjure.

As the final strains of music dissolve into the air, Jimin’s fingers hover over the piano keys, poised like a painter about to create a masterpiece. With the gentle caress of his touch, the first note emerges, followed by the sweet cadence of his voice, weaving a spell that ensnares your soul. Mesmerized, you surrender to the enchantment of his performance, each note a whisper of passion, each melody a testament to his mastery. His presence is magnetic, drawing you into a realm where time stands still and only the harmonies of love prevail.

He serenades with a Lukas Graham melody, and Jimin’s voice transcends mere sound, becoming an ethereal cascade of emotion. “When you say, you love the way I make you feel, everything becomes so real,” his words weave a tapestry of raw vulnerability, each syllable a tender embrace. “Don’t be scared, no, don’t be scared, cause you’re all I need,” he implores, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. In that moment, surrounded by the twilight glow and the soft murmur of the evening, his melody becomes an anthem of love, resonating deep within your heart.

You glance around, the scene unfolds like a painting of affectionate vignettes; couples swaying cheek to cheek in perfect synchrony, their souls intertwined in the dance of love. Among them, your sister and Jungkook move with a grace that transcends mere steps, their hearts beating as one, their eyes locked in a silent promise of forever. In the soft glow of the string lights, their love is a radiant beacon, illuminating the night with its undeniable warmth and beauty.

Jimin’s fingers glide with effortless grace over the piano keys, and you find yourself swaying gently to the rhythm of the song next to him, enveloped in a cocoon of love. His voice, like a velvet caress, fills the air with each heartfelt lyric, each note resonating deep within your soul. “All my life,” he sings, his voice carrying the weight of every emotion, “I thought it’d be hard to find the one, ‘till I found you, and I find it bittersweet, ‘cause you gave me something to lose.” In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the string lights and the warmth of your loved ones, you realize that this is exactly where you belong—lost in the melody of love, with Jimin by your side.

As those words echo through the melody, they strike a chord deep within you, resonating with the profound love you hold for Jimin. Each syllable encapsulates the essence of your bond, stirring emotions you never knew existed. Tears brim in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming beauty of the moment, as your heart dances to the rhythm of the keys, synchronizing with the song of your soulmate’s love.

“But when you love someone, you open up your heart. When you love someone, you make room. If you love someone, and you’re not afraid to lose ‘em,” Jimin’s voice caresses each note, weaving a tapestry of emotions, and you find yourself spellbound by his heartfelt rendition. His words resonate deep within your soul, stirring a kaleidoscope of feelings. You can’t help but wonder if he’s serenading you, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The beauty of his melody transcends any specific recipient, filling the air with pure, unadulterated love. Your heart swells with an indescribable joy, as if each note is a love letter written just for you.

As the final notes of the song fade into the night, Jimin’s eyes find yours, ablaze with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Without a word, he closes the distance between you, his touch gentle yet electrifying as his lips meet yours in a passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, it’s as if time itself stands still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you’re enveloped in the warmth of his love. It’s a collision of souls, a cosmic dance orchestrated just for the two of you. As you part, his forehead presses against yours, his eyes searching yours with an unwavering devotion. “I love you,” he whispers, each word a promise etched into the fabric of the universe.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you tenderly place your hands over his, cradling them against your cheeks. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of shared dreams and unspoken promises.

The music surges to life once more, transforming into an upbeat melody that ignites the crowd with infectious energy, prompting everyone to leap and sway with unbridled joy.

As you sit beside Jimin, enveloped in the vibrant atmosphere, you find solace in the simple act of watching people twirl and sway to the music. With his hand clasped in yours, you observe the dance floor come to life: Soo-ah and Namjoon’s laughter fills the air as they spin in rhythm, while Ara and Taehyung move with effortless grace, lost in the moment.

You glance across the dance floor, and you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok swaying in perfect harmony, their laughter echoing amidst the music. Their closeness and whispered words spark a curiosity that draws your attention, and as they slip away toward the stables, a spontaneous laugh escapes your lips.

You lean into Jimin’s embrace, a soft smile gracing your lips as you observe your sister and Jungkook engaged in their playful dance-off. Their competitive spirits shine through as they showcase their moves, each trying to outdo the other in a lighthearted battle for dance floor supremacy. Their energy is infectious, eliciting an affectionate eye roll from you as you revel in the joyous atmosphere of the moment alongside Jimin.

Just as you turn away, a tender moment catches your eye: Ha-rin leans in to kiss Seokjin, their affectionate gesture weaving seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of the celebration. A warm smile plays on your lips, touched by the sight of their love blossoming amidst the festivities.

You turn towards Jimin, drawn by the magnetic pull of his presence, and nestle into his side, seeking solace in the comfort of his embrace. Your fingers intertwine naturally, a silent affirmation of your connection, as you both linger in the tranquil embrace of your love.

As you bask in the serene moment with Jimin, a voice pierces through the tranquility from behind, jolting you back to the present. “I’m so sorry I’m late, but I’m here with the cake!”

You pivot around to behold a lady cradling the cake in her arms, an emblem of sweet relief amidst the festivities. You hasten to her side, extending a hand to aid her with the burden. “It’s fine. It’s the perfect time,” you reassure her, your words resonating with a sense of gratitude and eagerness.

You delicately position the cake on the table, its presence a timely marvel as the moment for cake-cutting approaches. Its arrival couldn’t have been more opportune, aligning seamlessly with the proceedings.

Jungkook and your sister approach the cake, their smiles radiant like two love-struck souls lost in their own world. With synchronized movements, they cut into the cake, their laughter filling the air as they distribute slices to each guest, their joy contagious and palpable.

The cake is a divine delight, each bite a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds. As you indulge in its sweetness, laughter and chatter fill the air, accompanied by clinks of glasses as you toast to love and happiness.

As you sway in Jimin’s arms, the music enveloping you in its rhythm, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Hoseok returning to the dance floor. There’s a playful glint in Yoongi’s eyes that you recognize all too well, and it’s contagious. You exchange knowing smiles, a silent acknowledgment of mischief, before returning to the dance with renewed energy.

As the night wanes and the stars twinkle above, casting their celestial glow, you find yourselves reluctant to bid farewell to the festivities. However, the time has come for your sister and Jungkook to embark on their honeymoon adventure.

“Where’s the grand destination?” You inquire, your curiosity piqued by the air of mystery surrounding your sister and Jungkook’s travel plans. Her recent penchant for secrecy has only added to your intrigue, leaving you eager for her revelation.

“I’ll tell you once we’re back from our adventure in two weeks,” she teases, a playful glint in her eye as she envelops you in a warm embrace, leaving you hanging in suspense yet again.

You join the embrace, enveloping Jungkook in a heartfelt hug, your words tinged with genuine warmth as you wish them an unforgettable honeymoon filled with love and laughter.

Returning home without your sister feels unsettling. The once lively corridors now echo with emptiness, leaving you with an unexpected sense of loneliness that you struggle to shake off. It’s a feeling you find discomforting, one that drives you back to Jimin’s comforting embrace. His home has evolved into your sanctuary, a place where warmth and familiarity envelop you like a cozy blanket— a home. In quiet conversations with Jimin, you’ve explored the idea of making a home together after marriage, and the anticipation thrills you to your core. The thought of sharing your life with him under one roof fills you with an eager longing that grows with each passing day.

You’ve made a pact to hold off until your sister and Jungkook return from their honeymoon, a decision born out of respect for their special time together. It’s a waiting game, albeit a challenging one, as each day stretches out like a tantalizing promise of what’s to come. In the meantime, you find solace in the anticipation, savoring the moments spent with Jimin while eagerly counting down the days until you can officially start your life together.

In the tranquil embrace of his ranch, each morning unfolds like a cherished ritual shared with your beloved fiancé. As the sun paints the horizon with hues of amber and gold, you find yourself enveloped in his arms, where every embrace whispers promises of forever. Here, amidst the rustle of the breeze and the gentle melody of nature, you discover a sense of belonging that transcends mere walls and roofs— it’s a sanctuary where your heart finds its true home.

As the day unfolds, you immerse yourself in the untamed beauty of the ranch, working alongside Yoongi and Hoseok to master the art of taming wild horses. Amidst the spirited dance between human and horse, Taehyung often joins, his curiosity piqued by the mesmerizing spectacle before him.

Amidst the flurry of ranch chores and horse training sessions, you’ve carved out precious moments to steal away with Jimin. Today, you’re escaping into the embrace of nature together, saddling up for a romantic horseback ride—a date brimming with the promise of adventure and love.

You and Jimin emerge from the stables, the weight of the world left behind as you venture into the boundless expanse of the countryside. Direction matters little when you’re with Jimin, your heart’s compass guiding you both through fields of golden grass and beneath a sky ablaze with the hues of twilight.

You soar over the rolling hills, weaving through dense forests, embraced by the remaining warmth of the sun and the playful caress of the wind through your hair. In this exhilarating moment, your heart sings with joy, knowing that you share this breathtaking experience with Jimin by your side, his laughter mingling with the melody of nature.

“Should we take a break?” You propose, feeling the thrill of the ride tingling in your veins after half an hour of journeying. The landscape around you is alive with the pulse of nature, a vibrant painting stretching as far as the eye can see. Though the ranch isn’t too distant, the distance you’ve covered has infused the air with an electrifying sense of adventure.

You both dismount your horses, the soft rustle of grass underfoot as you settle on the grassy ground. Nearby, your horses graze contentedly, a peaceful symphony of munching filling the air as you recline beside each other, basking in the tranquil moment together.

Jimin settles in behind you, enveloping you in his protective embrace, his warmth seeping into your skin. With a tender gesture, he rests his head on your shoulder, his breath soft against your neck as he whispers, “What’s on your mind?”

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat against your back, a steady reassurance in the chaos of your thoughts. “Lately, I’ve been grappling with something,” you admit, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. But this sentiment has lingered for a while, and you’ve mulled it over countless times. “I don’t feel like home feels like home anymore. I really want to move in with you because your space, your presence, it feels like home— where I belong, you know?”

Jimin nods in understanding, his warm breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Yeah, I remember you mentioning that, love.”

“Do you think Jungkook will move in with Jessi then? Not that I don’t want to live here with your brothers,” you rush to add, ensuring you don’t overstep. You love his brothers, and you don’t really want them to leave either. But you also know your sister and Jungkook. It would be hell to live in the same house as them. You can still vividly recall that week at your place where you didn’t get any sleep because of all the sounds they were making.

Jimin chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear, “I don’t know actually. But I think we can talk to them when they get back. We’re all grown people, I think they would understand that we want to live together, and I think they want that for themselves too. We just have to figure out the logistics.” His voice is reassuring, carrying a hint of excitement for the future.

You laugh softly, the sound blending with the rustle of the breeze, realizing the truth in his words. With a playful nudge, you lean further into his comforting embrace, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent promise of solidarity and affection.

“I love you more than words can express, Jimin,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the leaves. As his warm breath caresses your neck, you feel a surge of emotion, a wave of affection that envelops you like a gentle breeze, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. In that moment, you feel as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, reminding you of the depth of your affection for him.

“Something else has been on my mind too,” you begin, your voice trembling with lust as he peppers kisses along your neck. Each touch ignites a spark within you, urging you to share your thoughts with him, knowing that in his embrace, you’ll find comfort and understanding.

As his lips and tongue dance across your neck, eliciting soft gasps from your lips, you feel a surge of desire mingled with the need to express yourself. He doesn’t utter a word, but his gentle encouragement in the form of subtle sounds spurs you on, urging you to share your thoughts amidst the sensual distraction of his touch.

Amidst the tantalizing sensation of his kisses, you muster a chuckle, the playful warmth of the moment infusing your words with a light-hearted tone. “I’ve been thinking about breeding,” you confess, the words punctuated by a giggle as the ticklish sensation creeps in.

“That is one sexy way to open up for the baby talk,” he laughs, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of desire, punctuated by a teasing nip at your neck.

“I’m not talking about us, you silly goof,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes as you struggle to keep your thoughts on track.

“I’m talking about Mikrokosmos,” you clarify, your voice steadier now, with a touch of affection.

Jimin pulls back slightly, attempting to meet your gaze, though it’s a bit challenging at this angle. “Wait, are you serious?” He asks, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah, she’s so pretty. I think she’ll have some beautiful foals, don’t you think?” You ask, a spark of excitement dancing in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s actually a good idea. Do you want to train the foals yourself then?” He asks, resting his head back on your shoulder, his voice tinged with curiosity and anticipation.

“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. Do you want to help me?” You ask, your voice filled with excitement and a hint of playfulness, your smile evident in your tone even if he can’t see it.

“Of course, love. I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in to kiss your neck again, his devotion evident in every touch.

“Thank you,” you express with a heartfelt squeeze as you hug him, your gratitude washing over you. Rising from the grass, you extend your hand to him, pulling him up with a gentle tug, ready to embark on whatever adventures lie ahead, hand in hand.

As you ride back home together, the anticipation of a warm meal awaiting you adds to the comfort of returning. Upon arrival, the aroma of leftovers tantalizes your senses, drawing you into the kitchen where Taehyung is already at work. His cheerful presence fills the room, a welcome sight in the otherwise empty house. With the others engrossed in their respective tasks, it’s just the three of you, creating a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a familiar embrace.

“Sorry, I was hungry,” Taehyung offers with a sheepish grin, his eyes bright with mischief as he waits for the microwave to do its magic.

“No worries, Taehyung. We’ve all been there,” Jimin reassures him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You can’t help but beam at the sight. Lately, their bond has been strengthening, and it warms your heart to see Taehyung integrating into the family he never knew he had, his kindness shining through every interaction.

Jimin swiftly plates some food for both you and himself, and just as Taehyung’s microwave timer dings, Jimin prioritizes serving your meal first, his actions speaking volumes about his thoughtfulness and care.

As the aroma of the freshly heated food fills the air, the three of you gather around the cozy kitchen table, ready to savor the meal together.

“Any idea when Jessi and Jungkook will be back?” Taehyung inquires, taking a sip of his water, his curiosity palpable in the air.

“They should be back in about a week,” you respond, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you anticipate their return.

“That’s awesome. I didn’t really get a chance to hang out with him much before they left for the honeymoon. I’m really looking forward to getting to know him better,” he adds, his face lighting up with a wide, eager grin.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Jimin reassures him, his smile warm and encouraging.

Taehyung turns to you with sudden curiosity. “Do you know if Ara has a boyfriend?”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your food—a tragedy, considering Jimin’s delicious cooking. “She’s single. I noticed you two dancing at the wedding. Do you like her?”

His smile brightens, infectiously so, prompting a grin from you and even Jimin. Taehyung nods, a subtle blush tinging his cheeks. “Yeah, she’s cute.”

“You should ask her out on a date, I think she likes you too,” you encourage with a smile, offering a supportive thumbs-up.

The laughter of both you and Jimin resonates through the living room in the early night, your bodies intertwined as you lounge on the couch, the TV playing in the background. However, your attention isn't on the screen; instead, you’ve lowered the volume, delving into a meaningful conversation.

“Love, we’ve made love in just about every corner of this place,” Jimin teases, his laughter light and playful, his hand warm on your thigh. His smile, with those endearing crooked teeth, ignites a rush of excitement within you, your heart quickening its pace, while butterflies flutter fiercely in your stomach.

“No, I don’t think we have,” you reply, shaking your head, mischief twinkling in your eyes as you mentally scan every surface you’ve ever had sex on.

“We’ve done it on the kitchen table, in the tub, under the shower, on the bed, even in the stables, and don't forget the truck and outside,” he rattles off, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he recalls each rendezvous. His gaze smolders with desire as he tightens his grip on your thigh, drawing you closer until your breaths mingle, noses touching in an electric exchange of heat.

He leans into you, his warm breath grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “Am I forgetting something?” His voice is laden with a playful tease, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, igniting a fiery anticipation between you.

Your breath hitches, and you feel the shiver travel from your spine down to your core. “I don’t think so,” you manage to whisper, the arousal pulsing through every fiber of your being.

Your hands rest on his chest as you inch yourself closer, almost straddling his lap. “But we haven’t done it on the couch yet,” you murmur, feeling the heat between you rising with each word, the anticipation electrifying the air.

“Are you sure? It seems weird that we haven’t done it here yet,” he muses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He presses you down into the plush of the couch, his weight against you, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of love and lust, a smile playing on his lips like a love-struck fool. “Let’s add it to the list then,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, sending a thrill coursing through you.

He presses his hips against yours, igniting a surge of desire as you release a needy moan. Your hands find their way to his ribs, fingers curling in lust, while he leans in to kiss you fervently, starting at your lips before trailing down to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a deliciously tantalizing manner, gently biting it.

He groans softly, his lips and tongue creating a work of art on your neck, leaving you breathless and yearning for more of his electrifying touch.

“Oh, Jimin... I’m already so wet,” you moan, the intensity of his movements against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Really?” He murmurs huskily in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you, love,” he adds, his voice dripping with desire and a hint of something dangerous that leaves you eager for more.

His erection is evident against you, firm and eager, as you trace the outline of his dick through his jeans. “I want to feel you,” you breathe out, your voice laced with urgency and desire.

His movements send shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending as he presses cock against you with fervor. “I wanna touch you too,” he whispers, his breath hitching with anticipation.

With tender hands, he skillfully undoes the button of your jeans, sliding them off your legs with a gentle tug. As your shirt slips away, revealing the curves he knows so well, his gaze lingers on your form clad in your lacy underwear, a mixture of desire and adoration shining in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your skin.

With a shy smile at his praise, you shift closer, eager to explore every inch of him. As his shirt joins yours on the floor, you're met with the sight of his sculpted physique, each muscle defined by hard work and dedication. His skin, bathed in a golden glow, invites your touch, and as your fingertips trace the lines of his abs, a soft chuckle escapes his lips, a melody that makes your heart flutter.

With a sense of urgency, your fingers deftly work at his pants, swiftly undoing them before pushing him back onto the couch. As you remove his trousers, he’s left clad only in his black boxers, a sight that ignites a primal desire within you. His form, outlined by the fabric, is a tantalizing tease, and you can’t resist the urge to trace the contours of his dick. The sound of his pleasure as you touch him sends a jolt of electricity through you, fueling your own growing need.

“I wanna taste you,” you murmur, your voice laced with desire as you tantalizingly hover over him.

“I wanna taste you too, love,” he responds, a smile playing on his lips as he eagerly joins in, slipping his fingers into his boxers. With your help, they slide down, revealing his cock, standing proudly before you. It’s tall and girthy, the veins almost look like they might be popping out of his skin. The head looks a bit red and you salivate watching how it twitches. 

The sight of him, so raw and eager, ignites a fire within you. You just want to ravish him or for him to ravish you.

You pause to savor the sight of him, every line and curve, every mark and scar telling a story of his strength and resilience. His form is nothing short of captivating, each imperfection only adding to his allure. You find yourself biting down on your lip, a mix of desire and adoration coursing through you.

You release the clasp of your bra, letting it cascade to the floor, joining the pile of discarded garments. Cupping your breasts with your hands, you bring them together, feeling their weight and softness against your palms. The hunger in Jimin's eyes intensifies, his gaze smoldering with desire as he emits a guttural groan, his longing palpable in the air.

You pinch your nipples as you moan, “Touch me Jimin.”

He doesn’t need a second invitation, his urgency palpable as he rises swiftly, his hands assertive as they press you down, swiftly removing your panties with an almost primal force, the fabric of the lace yielding to his determination. As his lips claim yours in a fervent kiss, his journey of passion descends, tracing a path from your mouth to the curve of your neck, lingering at each delicate contour, before cascading further, worshiping the expanse of your collarbones, and finally descending to the tender terrain of your chest.

His touch envelops your curves, a symphony of desire as his hand caresses your breasts, each kiss a testament to his adoration. “These tits,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “are so fucking beautiful.” His words, like velvet, echo with reverence, igniting a flame of passion that dances between you.

You can feel his dick on your wet pussy, and God, every fiber of your body yearns for him to just plunge into you like this.

He moves up from your chest, his eyes lock onto yours, ablaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “Should we do each other at the same time?”

A surge of excitement pulses through you as you bite your lip, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and desire. Without hesitation, Jimin reclines, his eyes dark with longing. “Sit on my face, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need.

A shiver courses through you at his command, a soft moan escaping your lips as you position yourself above him with your head facing towards his dick, your breath hitching with anticipation. With trembling anticipation, you lower yourself onto his face, the electric sensation of his tongue against your most sensitive areas sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he expertly explores every curve and crevice, igniting a fire within you, you can’t help but lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

With a feverish urgency, your fingers wrap around his dick, eliciting a primal growl from deep within his chest as he bucks against your touch, his desire palpable in the air. Every stroke sends shivers down his spine, his breath growing ragged as you stoke the flames of his arousal, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of his tongue against your pussy.

You lower your head with a hungry eagerness, your tongue tracing a tantalizing path along his cock, teasing him. The tangy sweetness of his precum dances across your taste buds, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you savor the familiar flavor that never fails to drive you wild with longing.

Why does he always taste so good?

You stroke him slowly, relishing the way his cock pulses eagerly in your hands, aching to be engulfed by your warm, wet mouth. You’re acutely aware of the hunger in his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes. You’re sure he longs to feel your mouth around his dick, just like you can’t wait for him to fill it up.

It’s almost impossible to concentrate on anything other than the electrifying sensation of Jimin’s skilled tongue exploring every inch of your aching pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each flick and swirl of his tongue feels like a symphony of ecstasy, igniting a firestorm of desire that consumes your every thought and leaves you gasping for more. It’s so hard to focus on his dick and you can’t help when you press your pussy more onto his face.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m gonna come soon,” you gasp, your voice a desperate plea as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm your senses. You can feel the heat building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to explode into ecstasy at any moment. His tongue works its magic with sinful expertise, driving you to the brink of oblivion with each tantalizing stroke.

As the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue’s expertise threatens to consume you entirely, you’re suddenly struck with a fierce need for him in return. Releasing his throbbing length from your grasp, you shift your focus, your hands now finding purchase on his strong thighs. With a hunger that burns as fervently as the desire coursing through your veins, you lower yourself onto him, welcoming his dick into the warmth of your mouth. As you close your lips around him, engulfing him in a dizzying sensation of heat and wetness, his response is immediate—a guttural cry that resonates with raw need and primal desire.

You begin to suck him and with each sultry movement of your lips, you draw him deeper, setting a rhythm that ignites a symphony of pleasure between you. His fervent thrusts match the urgency of your ministrations. Sensing his need, you yield further, allowing him to claim your mouth completely, your jaw slackening to accommodate his cock.

You surrender to the dual sensations coursing through you, each touch a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by desire. As he lavishes attention on your clit with fervent suction, you reciprocate with eager enthusiasm, welcoming him deeper into your mouth with each rhythmic thrust.

Your nails sink into the warmth of his flesh, urging him on with an intensity born of unbridled desire. With each press of your fingertips, you silently convey the urgency pulsating within you, a primal need for more, faster, harder. As his pace quickens in response to your silent plea, you find yourself teetering on the edge of euphoria, close to the brink of release.

Every nerve in your body ignites with a ferocious intensity, each sensation amplified tenfold as the coil of pleasure tightens within you, threatening to engulf your senses. Your toes curl involuntarily, a reflexive response to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through your veins. But you find yourself torn between the desire to alert Jimin to your impending climax and the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your clit, sending waves of electric pleasure coursing through your body. As saliva pools in your mouth and tears of pleasure blur your vision, you surrender to the maelstrom of sensations, your grip on his thighs tightening with an urgency born of unbridled desire.

You don’t know how to alert him with his cock stuffed so good inside your mouth, but it’s too late anyway when you feel your pussy clenching hard.

As the waves of pleasure crash over you in a torrential downpour, Jimin’s relentless tongue continues its sensual assault, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being. Your body convulses uncontrollably above him, each movement a testament to the overwhelming intensity of your release. With ragged breaths escaping through your nose, you vocalize your euphoria around his dick, your moans merging with the rhythmic thrusts of his hips as he continues to drive deeper into your quivering form.

Your body trembles with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure as Jimin’s tantalizing lips and sinful tongue work their magic, leaving you teetering on the edge of sanity. Just when you think you can’t take any more, a sharp spank ignites a jolt of electricity through your senses, urging you to lift your ass from his mesmerizing grasp. 

With a soft pop, you relinquish his dick from your mouth, only to eagerly turn around on the couch, pulling him into a passionate kiss that sets your soul ablaze.

With a husky breath, he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with a primal hunger that sends a bolt of anticipation coursing through your veins. “God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growls, his voice dripping with raw desire. 

“On all fours, ass up.” 

His commanding tone sparks a delicious thrill, igniting a cascade of sensations that leave you trembling in anticipation. As he instructs you to assume the position, your body responds instinctively, a surge of heat flooding your core as you eagerly comply. Turning on the couch, you present yourself on all fours, your hands resting on the armrest, your ass raised in a provocative invitation that sets his primal instincts ablaze.

Jimin’s primal groan fills the room, his desire palpable as he beholds your enticing display. His teeth sink into his lip with a hunger that borders on desperation, so much so that he might draw blood, his gaze devouring every inch of your exposed form. With a possessive grip, his hands caress the curves of your ass, his touch igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your veins. Then, in a bold declaration of his desire, he delivers a sharp spank, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your moan of delight echoing in the air.

“Fuck. This. Ass,” his voice drips with raw desire, his fingers tracing the contours of your ass with a feather-light touch that sends electric currents dancing across your skin. A rush of anticipation floods your senses, your pussy pulsating with need, aching for his touch. With each stroke of his fingers, your pussy clenches involuntarily, yearning for the sensation of him buried deep inside you.

He sits up, gets closer to you as he takes a moment to stroke himself, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. As he spreads your ass cheeks, you feel the heat of his cock radiating against your skin, your body trembling in anticipation as his dick teases your entrance, aching for the moment he fills you completely.

With your head nestled on the armrest, you brace yourself for the exquisite sensation of him entering you. As he pushes his dick into your slick folds, you revel in the delightful stretch, a familiar pleasure that never fails to ignite your senses. Your wetness provides a smooth glide, allowing him to effortlessly slide into your depths, each inch sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant desperately as he reaches the hilt, your voice a breathy plea echoing through the room. With every pulse of his hardness inside your pulsating pussy, you feel an electric surge of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you completely.

“Move, please,” you plead, your voice a fervent prayer as you ache for his rhythm to ignite the blaze within you. All you crave is the sensation of him thrusting into you, to fuck you silly.

He grunts, a primal sound echoing in the room, as he withdraws from you with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of your bodies against each other, before plunging back in, equally unhurried. 

His hands, firm yet tender, mold into the curves of your ass, guiding each deliberate thrust as he establishes a rhythm of unhurried passion. With every stroke, his fingertips trace the lines of your skin, igniting a symphony of sensations that draw forth an involuntary moan of pleasure from deep within you.

His hand connects with a sharp slap against your skin, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body. The sudden sting is quickly followed by a surge of desire, igniting a primal need within you. His voice, laced with desire and dominance, breaks the silence as he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “You like this, don’t you?”

His tone carries a hint of menace, but beneath it all, there’s an undeniable allure that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the edge to his voice, it’s like music to your ears, stirring a primal longing deep within you. Your body reacts instinctively, tightening around his dick as a rush of heat floods your senses.

“Yes!” Your voice, muffled by the plush fabric of the armrest, comes out as a breathy plea, tinged with a mix of desire and desperation. 

“Fuck me harder,” you plead with him.

“My love wants it harder?” As his words dance provocatively in the air, you can’t help but feel a rush of heat surging through your veins. 

The playful sting of his palm against your skin ignites a primal fire within you, each slap echoing like a thunderous drumbeat, urging you further into the depths of ecstasy. With each resounding impact, the floodgates of desire open wider, drenching you in a wetness of arousal that threatens to consume every inch of your being.

“Yes!” Your voice reverberates through the room, a primal cry of desire echoing off the walls as you eagerly meet his every movement. 

But just when you think you’ve reached the pinnacle of pleasure, grinding your ass into his dick, he takes control, his grip on your flesh tightening as he unleashes a torrent of raw thrusts. With each thunderous thrust, he fucks you with insane speed, leaving you gasping for breath.

You feel so fucking gone. He hits you so deep, his dick touching your g-spot repeatedly, making you see white spots blurring your vision. You’re panting furiously for air.

“You’re doing so good, love,” he pants, his voice a husky whisper as he strokes your ass, his praise a melody in your ears.

“Jimin, fuck, Jimin—” You pant feverishly, feeling your core tighten as you release a surge of liquid around his dick, coating him in your essence.

His hand connects with your ass in a stinging slap before his touch gentles, caressing the same spot. “So good for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and affection.

His grip tightens on your hips, anchoring you to him as the rhythm of your bodies creates a symphony of skin-on-skin percussion that reverberates through the living room. Your fingers dig into the plush fabric of the armrest, muffling your moans as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

“Don’t silence yourself, love. I’m close,” he urges, his voice strained with the impending release as his thrusts become more urgent, each one driving you both closer to the edge.

You arch your back further, surrendering to his touch as his hand on your shoulder guides you closer, deeper into him. The sensation of him stretching you out sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, causing your eyes to roll back in sheer pleasure.

As he moans your name, his fingers grip the flesh of your hips and ass, holding you close as he releases inside you, filling you with his warm essence.

Your eyes snap open, meeting a pair of startled gazes—one belonging to Yoongi, the other to Taehyung. They stand frozen in the hallway, mouths agape, caught in an unexpected moment of intimacy that leaves them speechless.

Despite the sudden intrusion, Jimin doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to thrust into you. Embarrassment floods through you, but your body responds involuntarily, clenching around him. As you steal a glance, you catch the shift in Yoongi’s expression, his grin widening as he swiftly ushers a stunned Taehyung away from the unexpected scene they’ve stumbled upon.

“Aish! Oh my god! I never wanted to witness my brother doing that. I can never unsee it,” Taehyung’s exasperated voice echoes through the room as Yoongi swiftly escorts him out, the sound of the door opening and closing marking their hasty exit.

Your cheeks burn as you scold yourself for not hearing them entering the house. Fuck this is so humiliating!

Fuck. Did Jimin even notice?

Jimin’s deep, primal grunt resonates above you, his grip on your hips firm as the fusion of his essence and yours traces a sensual path from your pussy down to the couch. The thought of cleaning up later flits briefly through your mind, but that’s not currently what’s on your mind.

“Jimin, did you see them? They saw us!” Your voice trembles with embarrassment, a veil of crimson coating your cheeks as he withdraws from you. With a whirl of nervous energy, you spin around, anticipation and apprehension swirling in your gaze, unsure of what awaits in the aftermath of your indiscretion.

“Yeah. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before,” he chuckles, his nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to the flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. With a casual sweep of his hand through his tousled hair, he dismisses any concern, seemingly unfazed by the fact that his brother and friend just bore witness to the raw intensity of him fucking you on the couch.

“They’ve never actually seen us in the act before!” Your words quiver with a mix of mortification and disbelief, a nervous energy pulsating through your veins. As you speak, a torrent of thoughts floods your mind, the realization dawning upon you that this isn’t the first instance of Jimin’s cavalier attitude toward almost getting caught. 

A nagging suspicion takes root, whispering that maybe he’s more of an exhibitionist than you initially realized, his nonchalance hinting at a hidden desire to be seen and desired.

“Relax, everything will be alright,” he soothes, his words a balm to your frazzled nerves as he descends to kiss you with a fervor that steals your breath away. In that fleeting moment, his lips melding with yours in a passionate embrace, the world falls away, and the weight of their discovery fades into insignificance.

But the embarrassment returns tenfold, making you blush nervously.

You burst through the door, the cool night air enveloping you in its embrace as you step onto the dimly lit porch. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight, you find both Yoongi and Taehyung, their silhouettes etched against the darkness like guardians of the night, their presence casting a sense of both comfort and nervousness as you join them under the star-studded sky.

Despite feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment, an earnest desire to apologize gnaws at you, urging you to seek redemption for the awkward encounter they witnessed earlier. However, as your gaze locks with theirs, a wave of crimson floods your cheeks.

“I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that,” you blurt out, the weight of your remorse heavy in your voice as you hastily grab a nearby chair, seeking solace in its familiarity. With a deep breath, you settle into your seat, mustering the courage to meet the gaze of both men, your eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding amidst the awkward tension that hangs in the air.

Yoongi’s laughter fills the night air, a reassuring melody that eases the tension swirling around you. “It’s all good,” he reassures with a grin, his words carrying a playful charm that lifts the weight off your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, “And hey, I gotta give credit where it’s due— you’ve got quite a nice pair of tits there.”

“Yoongi!” Your voice rises, cheeks ablaze with a fiery hue that mirrors the heat surging through your body. 

“You’re gay, for heaven’s sake! Why were you even looking?” The mix of incredulity and embarrassment colors your words as you groan, feeling like you've been caught in a whirlwind of awkwardness and heat.

“I’m only human, aren’t I? Even I have eyes,” he retorts with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, the glint in his eye unapologetically rebellious. “And let’s be honest, a nice pair of tits is something anyone can appreciate,” he adds, punctuating his declaration with a casual sip of his beer, his nonchalant demeanor daring you to challenge his unabashed honesty.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, a silent testament to the shock that grips him, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that speaks volumes. In the hushed moment that follows, his silence echoes louder than words, hinting at the depth of his surprise and leaving you to wonder what thoughts race behind his startled expression.

“I’m truly sorry, Tae,” you confess, your words heavy with remorse, but as you speak, you notice his gaze drifting past you, as if unable to meet your eyes directly. It’s as though his sight is fixed on some distant point, his avoidance speaking volumes about the weight of his own thoughts and emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“You really shouldn’t do that where just anyone could stumble upon you,” he advises in a hushed tone, his voice carrying the weight of a clandestine revelation. “And for everyone’s sake, remember to lock the door next time,” he adds, his tone laced with a palpable sense of having witnessed something he'd rather erase from memory.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your words carrying the weight of genuine remorse as you seek to mend the discomfort lingering in the air.

“I never wanted to witness my brother in such a way,” he grits through clenched teeth, his fingers pressing against his closed eyelids in a futile attempt to erase the images burned into his mind. “Seeing too much of both my brother and sister-in-law... it’s like a stain on my memory,” he confesses, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and discomfort, as if grappling with the irreversibility of what he’s witnessed.

“I’m truly, deeply sorry,” you mumble once more, the weight of regret heavy in your voice as you reflect on the discomfort your actions caused them. The image of you and Jimin in that compromising position hangs in the air, an undeniable reminder of a moment you wish could be erased from memory entirely.

Yoongi’s laughter erupts like a thunderclap, breaking the tension with its raw, unrestrained force. “Welcome to the country,” he chuckles, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and nonchalance. “Get used to it. People fuck where they can around here. Hobi and I once stumbled upon them making lovely noises in the stables,” he shares with a mischievous glint in his eye, as if unveiling a scandalous secret of the country’s unconventional norms.

Taehyung’s eyes widen in disbelief, the shock evident in the trembling of his lips as he utters, “Is nowhere sacred?”

“Yoongi! You promised never to speak of that again!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your cheeks ablaze with the heat of embarrassment.

Yoongi’s laughter intensifies, a raucous melody that dances on the edge of defiance. “It’s just a natural act— it’s just sex,” he remarks, his tone casual as he lifts the beer to his lips for another sip. 

“No need to get your panties in a twist,” he adds, the nonchalant shrug in his demeanor daring you to challenge the simplicity with which he views such intimate moments.

“Hey. Not all of us enjoy watching other people have sex,” Taehyung interjects, his voice carrying a note of reprimand, his arms folding across his chest in a stance of firm disapproval.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean for you to see it,” you gulp, feeling the weight of his disapproval settle heavily upon you. You grasp the gravity of his words; it’s not as though you relish being under scrutiny. It was an unplanned moment of passion. Yet, the realization dawns that you must exercise greater caution in the future.

“I couldn’t care less,” Yoongi rasps, his tone edged with a hint of amusement. “In fact, I’m thrilled you’re getting dick,” he adds with a smirk, his words laced with a playful irreverence that cuts through the tension.

Taehyung coughs abruptly, a spluttering fit seizing him as his beer takes a perilous detour down the wrong passage, his eyes widening in alarm as he struggles to regain composure amidst the unexpected onslaught.

You cast a concerned glance his way, your instinctive response guiding your hand to rest gently on his back, offering a reassuring touch in his moment of distress.

You chuckle nervously, stealing a glance at Yoongi, your cheeks ablaze with a mixture of embarrassment and unabashed honesty. “It’s really good dick,” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness. “Probably the best I’ve ever had,” you confess, your words carrying the weight of a guilty pleasure you can’t quite resist.

Taehyung continues to cough, his struggle for breath punctuating the air with urgency, until finally, with a resigned groan, he declares, “And this is my cue to leave.”

With a lingering glance filled with a mixture of discomfort and amusement, Taehyung slips away, his departure palpable in the weight of his heavy breaths echoing in the wake of his exit, leaving the two of you to grapple with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

“Did we push him too far?” You offer a wry smile, the regret evident in the furrow of your brow as you grapple with the realization that Taehyung was undoubtedly made uncomfortable by the situation.

“He will be fine. He needs to grow up,” Yoongi leans in, his demeanor conspiratorial as he gestures towards the table, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “But let’s get back to the real topic at hand. Tell me more about Jimin’s dick,” he continues, his tone suggestive as he shifts the conversation back to the matter of Jimin's prowess.

Your cheeks flare with renewed heat, betraying your unease as a nervous chuckle escapes your lips. “Hold on, are you getting off on this?” You inquire incredulously, your disbelief evident as you ponder the motivations behind his eagerness to delve deeper into the topic.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not at all. I’m just looking out for you, as your best friend,” he reassures, the sincerity in his tone cutting through any lingering doubts. “I’ve got enough dick in my life,” he adds with a casual sip of his beer, before continuing, “But if you ever need to share or talk about it, you know I’m here. You probably don’t want to talk to your sister or Jungkook about it.”

You groan, a mix of frustration and reluctant acknowledgment washing over you, because deep down, you know he’s spot-on. Sharing such intimate details with your sister or Jungkook? Absolutely out of the question. 

As you ponder, you realize you’re not exactly prudish, but the thought of discussing sex openly still makes you squirm. Yet, you also recognize the importance of breaking free from societal taboos surrounding the topic. It’s something you’re determined to improve upon, because there shouldn’t be any shame attached to open dialogue about such a natural aspect of human experience.

Leaning in closer, you confide, “Let me tell you, Jimin’s got some serious skills with both his dick and his tongue. It’s... impressive, to say the least, and that’s all I’m gonna share for now,” you admit, a nervous chuckle bubbling up as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Despite the embarrassment, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in yourself for opening up about such intimate details with your best friend.

“I’m happy for you, truly,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his sincerity. In response, you can’t help but return the smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you bask in the warmth of your cherished friendship.

“What about you and Hobi?” you inquire, the lingering blush of embarrassment gradually receding from your cheeks, replaced by a genuine curiosity about your friend’s own romantic endeavors.

He reclines in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It’s great, actually. Better than ever,” he shares, his voice laced with affection and a profound sense of happiness. “I love him more than words can express,” he adds, his gaze distant yet filled with the warmth of unwavering devotion.

As you nod in understanding, a surge of warmth floods your chest as you catch the unmistakable gleam of adoration in his eyes whenever Hoseok’s name is mentioned. It’s a sight that fills you with a sense of profound joy, your heart swelling with the love that radiates between them, leaving you unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face.

“I’m genuinely happy. For both of us,” you declare, the overflow of love within you akin to a flurry of delicate butterflies taking flight in your chest. Just as the moment envelops you in its warmth, the door swings open, and Jimin emerges, joining you and Yoongi.

“And I can’t wait to marry the love of my life,” you proclaim, your voice brimming with anticipation and affection as you reach for Jimin’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he settles beside you. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a blaze of love that courses between you, enveloping you both in a cocoon of intimacy and security. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as though time could stand still, and you wouldn’t mind one bit.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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[monstersandmaw]

I am unreasonably excited for this stardew fic im hearing about 👀 (also seb, my love- i always end up romancing him)

Thank you! In all my playthroughs (maybe five before this one, lol) I've never romanced anyone. This one (which inspired this story) I decided to romance and marry Seb :).

The story is gonna feature a lot of the game and setting as inspiration, but I'm going to edit the mechanics a bit so it's less contrived, and there are gonna be more supernatural elements and folks at play... :). And an affectionate, fwb situation with Elliott before the end-game Sebastian romance, just a heads up.

Since you were kind enough to reach out about it, here's a 1400 word WIP sneak peek of Rowan, my gruff, buff werewoof farmer:

(CW: standoffish, loner character with scars on his neck from a werewolf bite, passing mention of a werewolf attack at night that nearly killed him)

This run-down, wild farm, with its endless tangle of fairytale brambles arcing around the roots of maple and oak trees, and its overgrown ponds full of frogs and flowering water weeds, was beyond perfect.

Of course, Rowan knew next to nothing about organic vegetable farming, but that was a problem for another day.

Mayor Lewis dithered on the top step a moment longer before taking his leave with Robin and heading back up the rutted path towards the town. Apparently Rowan had been taciturn enough to drive the chatty old man away, and something about him had evidently unnerved Robin a little. Maybe it was the mess of scars on his throat. He didn’t much care. If it meant they left him alone, so much the better. He wasn’t sure that anyone but Robin in her off-road pickup could make it comfortably along the winding drive to the farm anyway, and it was a miracle that the old man hadn’t toppled into a pothole or a ditch on his way over.

Rowan watched them leave together, deliberately ignoring their nattering gossip about him, which carried easily enough on the spring air to his sharp ears, and he felt something new prickle down his spine. It wasn’t even close to the full moon — he’d made damned sure of that before booking his one-way ticket to the sleepy little valley — but something about this place set the wolf in him prowling. He realised with a jolt that his wolf liked this new territory, with its fresh air and cacophonous birdsong. Where he’d been fractious and aggressive in the city, prone to lashing out when he felt the least bit cornered or trapped, now his wolf was practically bounding on the spot to explore his new territory and claim it as his own, and Rowan recoiled from the idea.

“I am not an animal,” he snarled at himself.

He thought that after bearing the curse for a year, he should have been far more accustomed to the feeling of there being a whole new part of himself inside his own head, or in his heart. And yet, noticing that the way he was feeling was largely because of the wolf, and not his human side, still freaked him the fuck out.

He turned back to the front door of the tumbledown cabin where his grandfather had lived until he’d had to go into care five years earlier, and immediately put his boot through the rotten boards of the veranda with a curse and another snarl. A small family of mice skittered away beneath the house, their pungent smell rising through the new hole to his sensitive nose, and he sighed. “Still not alone, even out here.”

Although the moon was only halfway to full, and against his better judgement, Rowan did let the shift sweep over him a few nights later, and as he sloughed off the complex trappings of his human life and sank his claws delightfully into the velvet-soft dirt, he patrolled the perimeter of the farm where his human self had spent his first week in Stardew Valley clearing weeds and setting up his first organic vegetable beds.

His wolf didn’t think about the uppity shopkeeper in the general store or the awkward blacksmith who’d smelled of a nauseous cocktail of discomfort, anxiety and axle grease, or the harried-looking man in a tweed jacket who’d smelled of coffee and antiseptic. His wolf lowered its head to the ground and inhaled the scents of rabbit and squirrel. It couldn’t decide if it was relieved or saddened to find no trace of wolves — shifter or otherwise — in the area, but seemed to settle for relieved as he slunk like a deeper shred of shadow from the porch of the farmhouse and bounded off into the dark to explore the place with the new, golden eyes of a wolf in place of the slightly blurry, hazel eyes of a human.

A rockfall in the cliffs behind the wreckage of the greenhouse had exposed a damp cave some years ago, though it smelled of bat guano and little else to interest a wolf. He let it be. Trotting eagerly on, the wolf relished the decadent flex and stretch of its powerful muscles, and the bliss of being able to shift whenever the fancy took him was enough to make him tilt his head to the sky and howl his ecstasy at the silent stars.

Rowan knew that being bitten and turned, and dumped unknowingly into the secret world of the supernatural, had taken its toll on him.

His sanity had been right on the ragged edge when he’d come across that forgotten letter from his grandfather in a desk drawer. After a year of trying to hold the remnants of his miserable life in the city together, of slinking down into an old storm drain on the edge of an abandoned industrial estate every full moon, to cage and contain his frustrated, furious wolf, Rowan had known he had to get out of the city. Permanently. It was messing with his wolf and he was losing more of his awareness to it with each passing full moon. He’d also started zoning out at his desk at work and coming-to with claws out and the wolf prowling right beneath his yellow-eyed facade of calm, even halfway through the cycle. The constant clacking of keyboards, the shrill, metallic ringing of office telephones, and the stink of leftover lunches from the cubicle next door to his was going to make him snap. Violently.

Part problem and part gift, his wolf existed purely in the ‘now’. There was no painful past; no human lying abandoned and bleeding and irrevocably changed on the rain-soaked tarmac of a grotty bus station; no human who’d drifted out of touch with his one surviving family member; no bills overdue and no landlord to keep happy. There was only the scent of moss and emerging spring grass and last year’s fallen pine cones, and the echo of a fox’s passing trail across the land which was now his territory.

Rowan’s wolf followed its nose down to the lower pond and lapped luxuriantly at the rich, cool water. His ears drew back and another thrill of delight ran down the length of his body as the sweet, wholesome taste of the water exploded across his tongue; he could detect none of the pollution and chemicals of the city water, just fresh spring that bubbled up from the depths of the earth, carrying with it the minerals and magic of the place.

Yes, this place had magic in abundance.

His grandfather had married a witch, so magic had been in Rowan’s blood already before he’d been mutilated by a lone werewolf at three in the morning in a filthy, city bus station. Perhaps that had been why a bite that messy had taken when it would have killed most people. He prayed he never met his monstrous sire, because he knew he’d rip his fucking head off for ruining his life and turning him into a slathering, near-mindless monster once a month. It was probably only by sheer, dumb luck that he hadn’t been killed by hunters, or killed someone himself by accident, and it had only been by the grace and patience of a blue-haired witch named Mercury that he’d even known what was happening to him in the first place. He shuddered to think where he’d have been without her.

A figure moved in the darkness at the edge of the trees on the southern-most reaches of his property and his lips drew back into a snarl.

“Easy, Rowan,” came a resonant, bass voice, and he froze, tilting his head, ears pricked. He recognised that voice, but couldn’t place it. For answer, he just growled a warning. “Easy,” came the voice a second time. “Rowan MacTavish, I am not here to hurt you. It is I, Rasmodius.”

At the sound of his full name on the still night air, Rowan’s whole body shivered, but the wolf let go of his mind a little. Thought came to him just a little easier. Rasmodius. That was the name of the wizard in the tower. Rowan blinked his golden eyes and sat back on his haunches.

“May I approach?”

He whined and ended the sound in a soft sneeze. Close enough to a petulant ‘fine’, he supposed.

___

(more soon, hopefully, if there's interest :3)

[optimist-pine]

for a little daryl blurb: color, a dark dusty blue. like clouds during a thunderstorm; lyric, “I owe you a black eye and two kisses.” (crush by ethel cain); noun, remedy.

hopefully there’s some inspiration in there <3

Storm

Warnings: Typical TWD stuff, violence, injury, dark thoughts, implied death

Word Count: 1,085

Era: Unspecific

A/n: Sooo I only re-wrote this like 8 times... Thanks for the request, Anon! Sorry it took so long.

Brakes slam hard with a rusty screech, tires striving for traction on the flooded road. The rain-soaked bark of a fallen tree stares back at you through the windshield, nearly fully obscured by the sheets of water that pour steadily from the sky.

Daryl bangs a fist into the steering wheel with a grumbled, "Damn." You both peer out into the torrent, watching as dark dusty blue clouds roll in fast and low. Hail begins to slam against the windows of the car, half-deafening in its full fury. He turns the engine off and the clangs only grow louder without competition. "Can't see fer'shit anyway."

The intensity isn't just out there beyond the glass - it swells within you, powerful and destructive. Being home soon is the only thing that's kept the thoughts from lingering, but now they're beginning to make a home, rooting themselves deep down into your aching heart.

The wind is picking up, rocking the car with jerky bursts as thunder rumbles loudly nearby. The storm is moving fast and hard and you'll be in the heart of it soon. You try to distract yourself, watching the way treetops bend and bow against the gusts; branches and leaves whipping past, assaulting the vehicle on their way through.

Daryl rummages around the backseat, then pulls the dead man's pack into his lap. Your eyes squeeze themselves shut, fingers wrapping tightly around the door handle. If you try hard enough you can imagine you're on the open seas somewhere far away, deck rocking beneath your feet as salty spray splashes your cheeks. Not confined. Not stuck here with nothing to do but replay the past again, and again, and again. After everything, all of it, it doesn't make sense. Something is wrong with you. That's it.

"It's okay." He says softly. "Ya did what ya had ta'."

Your eyelids crack open, and of course, your gaze glues itself to the blooming, still-darkening skin. It's gonna be one helluva black eye.

"What'aya think? Red my color?" You ask, jokingly holding the ridiculously glitzy dress up against yourself.

He barely spares a grunt, not bothering to even turn around. He's too focused on whatever's in the backseat of the old sedan.

You drop the garment with an exasperated sigh. "Oh, come on. It's no fun if you don't even tu-" A blinding pain explodes across your temple and you hit the ground hard, vision spinning and ears ringing.

You stare at rivulets of rain on the glass. "He was unarmed. I didn't have to, but I did."

"Ya were protectin' me." He replies.

You manage to crawl onto your hands and knees as sticks and stones dig into you; everything's muffled except for the thud of your heartbeat. The sounds of a brawl gradually reach your ears, fists beating into flesh, raw growls, and scuffling gravel.

Daryl's pinned under a wild man whose fists ceaselessly lay into him. Blood is flowing, spittle flying, as his back is pressed down into the rocky roadside.

You shake your head. "I don't know. Maybe I wasn't."

"Ya did." He says firmly. "He attacked us, and ya had my back."

A switch is flipped. The pain in your head is now a hot, boiling rage. This man - this, this threat needs to be ended. He needs to die.

"That's not who I want to be." Your eyes flick to his, but the understanding within them stings, so you pull away to look at the dirty floormat. "I can't-"

"Ya aren't. An' ya won't. If ya hadn't, maybe I wouldn't be sittin' here." He says bluntly.

The power shifts and Daryl has the upper hand now. The other man struggles against the fingers wrapped around his throat.

The pistol is light in your hand. You see it, that flash of panic in his eyes. When his hands fall away from Daryl's neck. When he opens his mouth to speak. But you don't care.

A tear slips its way down your cheek. The anger it's... suffocating...

His battered hand reaches up, brushing away the hair that hangs between the world and your matching swollen eye. His touch is ever so gentle, careful not to bump the tender flesh. Something new sparks in that moment, where his fingertips brush your ear, a trickle of contentment seeps into your soul. The rough edges are smoothed - the chill no longer bites, the pain doesn't scream, and the past relents and releases its hold upon you.

You take his hand in yours, softly pressing bruised knuckles to your chapped lips. Can he feel it too? His eyes reflect such a muddle of emotions, and for the first time, you aren't confident in deciphering what they say.

The longer you study him, it's as if you've become magnetized, gravitating, being pulled in, and before you know it you're inches away... centimeters... you push aside dark hair, and your lips once again touch his skin as close to the damage as you dare.

You pull back slowly and search his eyes again; you have no idea what you're doing. He's breathing heavily, eyes darting to your lips and back up. And then he leans forward quick as a bolt and your lips touch his skin for the third time. He kisses you deeply and yet so sweetly, hand sliding up your jaw and below your ear to steady you. Your own fingers settle at the nape of his neck, tangling in soft locks.

The longer his lips are on yours, the more a peace you've never known before pours into you, washing over every sore and tired place. If you'd known the sort of remedy contained in his kisses you'd have done it so much sooner.

A CRACK booms through the air so powerfully that you jolt apart, bumping noses as you do. You can't hold back the giggle that escapes, your heart pounding in your heaving chest. Daryl's no better off, panting and wide-eyed.

You've come to forget the terror of anything without a human silhouette, but the storm rages on, frightening and fierce. Watching it for a moment while your heart calms, another streak of lightning and earth-rattling rumble rave.

You turn back to Daryl, noticing the telltale shifting of his feet and chewing of his lip. He's nervous. Hell, so are you. But you've tapped into a newfound confidence. An assurance that all you need is him close to you. The rest will take care of itself.

"Wanna do it again?" You whisper.

[ashwhowrites]

i know you like angst so i have one for you!

famous rockstar eddie x female director (they met on a music video)

he’s married and having an affair with reader, lots of sneaking around and its exciting and hot and he is ready to leave his family behind and drop it all as he is so head over heels in love with her but she wants to end the affair and asks him what he expected and they had fun and he’ll be better off without her

Eddie? An affair? A kink of mine??

Thank you again for your patience as I worked to get this out ! I hope it's what you wanted :)

⚠️Okay you asked for angst with no word of a happy ending, so no happy ending ;) and no part 2 will be coming

Never proofread and written half of it high. Ending is rushed

Eddie Munson had his life together. He is the rockstar he always dreamed to be. His band is famous and always on the road. He settled down and got married. Everything was going smoothly and perfectly. Until he met Y/N. She turned his world upside down.

She was one of the greatest female directors in the music industry. She's worked with Eddie's idols and the biggest bands in the world. Always creating art based on lyrics and melodies. Her mind was creative and wild. Eddie was amazed by her even before he knew her personally.

And now he knew her personally

~~

The second Eddie met her, he felt his body set on fire. His eyes couldn't leave her. The way she smiled, gushed over their band, shook their hands but went for a hug with Eddie. The way she nervously admitted Eddie was her favorite. And Eddie felt his heart explode hearing that leave her lips.

"she's into you" Gareth laughed when she walked away. A push to his shoulder as the band walked on to the set.

"I'm a married man, Gareth. Not gonna happen" Eddie laughed

~~

Eddie didn't listen to his own words.

The band was on set for just over two weeks when Eddie found himself growing closer to Y/N. He found himself always standing as close as he could, inhaling her perfume. Constantly asking about her ideas for each scene because he loved her attention on him. He burned with jealousy when her assistant constantly flirted with her. He shouldn't be jealous, he was married to someone completely different. He had all his priorities screwed up.

~~

The downfall was when all of Eddie's guitar solo shots got scrapped. Some footage didn't save and everything he performed that day was completely lost. Y/N panicked because she was on a deadline and the unsaved footage was going to push her further back. Eddie offered to stay after hours and rerecord all of it. He knew it was a bad idea but he said it was just for his job.

Except it wasn't. It was him and her completely alone on a set. A set that was designed as a bedroom. Eddie sat on the bed alone as he performed his solo. She was doing all the camera work herself, zooming closer and directing his body.

He remembers how she left the camera to walk over to him. Trying to position him the best way, but her foot got caught on a wire and she tripped. Knocking straight into Eddie, crashing them both down on the bed. Eddie out of instinct grabbed her hips. Eyes practically rolling in the back of his head when she let out a tiny moan. She tried to cover it with a cough. A thousand apologies ran off her tongue as she tried to sit up, but his grip never dropped. He squeezed her hips harder as he tried to control his breathing. He was married, he needed to get her off and ignore how hard his dick was growing.

"shit sorry" he said, letting go of her hips. She quickly stood up, smoothing out her clothes

"no that was on me" she laughed, moving the cord out of her way so she wouldn't fall again. Trying to ignore how cold her hips felt now that his hands were gone.

They worked for another hour, trying to ignore the sexual tension. She knew he was married, she's been following his band for years. She couldn't be that other girl. But the way his brown eyes kept looking over her body was messing with her head.

They called for a break, both needing a second to put their mind at rest.

It was so stupid, both knew it but didn't care. Eddie laid on the bed, patting the spot next to him with a small laugh. Her body was tired and exhausted so she accepted.

It could have been seconds, minutes or hours, neither knew when they kissed but they didn't stop. Once he felt her tongue in his mouth he was grabbing her hips and placing her on his lap. Sitting up to cradle her jaw as he twirled his tongue with hers. His jeans got tight as she panted, her panties grew wet as he grunted.

It was a small mistake

But once he started pounding into her as she gripped the sheets below him

They both knew it was a huge mistake.

Eddie went home to his wife that night, he felt wrong for not feeling guilty. He had another woman's cunt soaking him, but he didn't care. He could still feel Y/N lips on his skin and her cum on his tongue and he didn't feel guilty.

~~

By the fourth week the shoot was finished. And the two were still fucking any chance they could. She hated herself for doing it but he was so addicting. The way he'd slide his hand around her waist when he'd grab a snack from the table she stood at. Or the way he pinched her ass when he hugged her goodbye. The way he'd smirk in between shots when he laid on the same bed they fucked on.

But the shoot was done, and she figured that was it. Their little affair was over and she could ignore the guilt.

Then Eddie asked for her number.

~~

The video has been posted and blew up. Fans love the video style. Winning awards after awards. Now she was constantly at award shows, standing with the boys when they won an award from their music video.

Crying on the inside when she met Eddie's wife for the first time. Seeing them kiss and cuddle at their table. A painful reminder she was simply the mistress. How did she allow herself to be that girl?

She vowed to be done that night. Fixing her makeup in the bathroom, ready to walk out when the devil himself slipped inside. Locking the door and crashing his lips on hers. She hated that she kissed back in seconds. The same lips that were kissing his wife's lips all night.

She let the jealousy win, yanking back with a dark look.

"what?" He asked breathlessly, confused at a different look in her eyes.

"she waiting out there?" She snapped

"talking with management" Eddie answered, going to kiss her again when she pushed his chest.

He eyed her confused, then she smirked. Almost like a brilliant idea popped in her head. He didn't have a chance to ask before she shoved him down to his knees, leaning herself against the sink as she lifted up her dress. Throwing a leg over his shoulder, perfect nails diving in his curls and shoving his head straight between her legs.

"yes fuck" she moaned instantly, Eddie already devouring her cunt.

If he was going home with his wife and kissing her goodnight, he's gonna have to kiss his wife with her cum on his tongue.

~~

Eddie had been cheating on his wife for three months at this point. Still never once feeling guilty. No shame in driving to Y/N's house whenever he craved her. Already hooking her legs around him the second he walked through the door.

He covered her in marks, selfishly making sure she didn't stand a chance at finding someone else.

In those three months he has felt things he's never felt with his wife. He actually feels a connection with Y/N. There's more than just sexual tension. He feels happy with her and he hates how he misses her when he lays next to his wife. His wife's touch didn't give him butterflies, or heat up his skin. His wife doesn't make his heart race, not the way Y/N does.

One night, Eddie decided he was ready to pick Y/N for the rest of his life.

~~

But Y/N was planning her goodbye. She couldn't keep sleeping with a married man.

No matter how much she's been slowly falling in love with him, they couldn't be together.

~~

Eddie hated that he knew what was coming when she showed up at the coffee shop. She didn't have her usual smile, the look in her eyes was gone, and she looked drained.

"what's going on?" Eddie asked nervously. His texts and calls were being ignored. He hadn't seen her in weeks.

"we need to end this. It's done" she said emotionlessly.

"wait what? No! I love you. Don't do this" Eddie panicked. He couldn't lose her when he was this close. He already got the divorced papers, he's ready to be just hers.

"you are married Eddie! We are so wrong. We had our fun and that was it. We were never meant to be in a relationship. It was just fucking. Go back to your wife Eddie." She spat out, standing up and leaving the shop.

"HEY WAIT!" he screamed. Turning around.

Allowing herself to cry once she made it out the door. No idea the man she left already left his life behind for her.

She missed the way he cried into his hands.

She was out the door before he could even chase her.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[m0thergoose]

TOWL EPISODE 6 THE LAST TIME SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MY RUNNING COMMENTARY

Here we fucking go lads I’m scared

Sexy time again what a way to start, we continue to win 💖

PUTTING THE RING ON LIKE THIS HOLY FUCK 🫠

They look unreal in the uniforms lol

he said I didn’t need to be scared, that it was just the burning - his story about his dad omg it’s gonna come full circle

I love when Rick says thang 😂

Thorne has really been sucked in hasn’t she I don’t think this will end well for her

She has been a good friend to Rick though

Here we go stealthy Michonne she is the GOAT

Omg jadis paintings! Wanna see if there’s any of Ricky dicky

Terry O’Quinn my man 🫶

‘We’re the dead ones Rick’ woooooow

I feel like Michonne is gonna get caught in here I’m on edge

A CAT HOLY FUCK MICHONNE TAKE THAT HOME 😂😂😂😂

nah jadis is a sick bitch for hiding it in the cat

It’s a fucking ESSAY Jesus Christ

‘Rick’s wife’ only bit I liked seeing lol

Rip that shit up Michonne

She’s so upset 😭😭😭

Here we go briefing time 😬

Terry O’Quinn is staring into my soul

Fucking feral Rick flashbacks I love it

Come on Beale spit it out

OMG RICK AND MICHONNE

The toy rabbit?? What’s this about I’m scared

MAMA MICHONNE FLASHBACKS FUCKING GUT ME

Saving one city by sacrificing your home - I feel like this is meant to be what Rick does

I love Rick speaking about his dad for some reason

‘We’re all gonna die’ not Rick and Michonne tho we’re the ones who LIVE

The child evacuation??

14 years to extinction???

Evacuation of 10% of children - so they’re going to let the rest die!!

Spies in selected communities omg are they in the commonwealth!! I swear if Judith or RJ show up on that screen!!!!

Basically CRM is committing genocide

Rick please just kill him lmao

My son 😭😭😭😭😭😭

YAAAAS RICK THANK FUCK

Omg Rick please say we’re the ones who live

RIGHT get out of there now Ricky boy fucking hell

Fuck Rick you gonna have to kill this guy too lmao

I’m so on edge

ALSO halfway through and we’re still at cascadia I just want them HOME 😭😭

Oh no Thorne

Rick just wants to see his kiddies kill me 😭😭😭😭

Why’s he left his hand behind???

IM SO STRESSED ABOUT THORNE SHES GONNA RUIN THIS

This is like them disarming Negan’s explosives on the road, except this time they’re arming them

YAAAAS GIVE HER HIS SWORD

OH NO THORNES FIGURED IT OUT 😱😱😱😱

Holding hands forever I love this

FUUUUUCK

THE EXPLOSION WAS WILD

YEEEESS MICHONNE

FUUUUCK RICK

YAAAAS MICHONNE GET HER MASK

OMG THEY DID IT THE CITY KNOWS THEY CAN GOOOOO

FREE MOVEMENT HAS BEEN ESTABLISHED

NAH IM GONNA CRY

IM CRYING AND ITS NOT EVEN HAPPENED YET

His boots 🥹

IM UNWELL

LOOK AT THEM

MICHONNE AND HER BABIES 🥹🥹🥹

HIM AND HIS BABY GIRL 🥹🥹🥹

IM ACTUALLY SOBBING

YOURE THE BRAVE MAN

NAH IM SOBBING GUYS

HUG YOUR SON DAMMIT

BUT MAYBE YOU COULD CALL ME DAD NAH IM DEAD

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[uraberika]

First impressions of Victory Road by someone who has never played any of the inazuma games. I am halfway through watching a gameplay but I just had to share so BEWARE (MILD) SPOILERS AHEAD

the rock-paper-scissors gameplay is absolutely hilarious and i am so here for it and all of its unexplored potential

contrast that with the story which takes a very wild and serious turn from the beginning which is so spot on for the inazuma franchise i actually gasped. it is genuinely the most inazuma thing ever, i swear

the characters seem to evoke other characters but not enough to feel like copy-pastes which i really like

Sakurazaki looks like a mix between Kidou and Gouenji which i appreciate

Unmei is such an awkward little emo boi, i love him already. he still has the drive to protect ppl like Endou but without the sunshine attitude; he is way more analytical which is honestly sooo refreshing i could cry

speaking of sunshine, Kisoji is a 10/10 character already, instant fave, precious boy, must protect, and i have not expected him to become so relevant so early (i thought the others like that long haired goalkeeper would be in the forefront rather)

there are few girls but you can already see the ones who might become relevant to the story: Juno is Haruna/Akane coded, while Lilac evokes Natsumi for me but we shall see if they become relevant later on

pls pls let that female teacher be their coach, i have been missing women coaches from inazuma

i don't mind the simulated social media in it. it doesn't add much for me but it also helps in establishing how far away from the og series we are, which i appreciate

og characters becoming coaches was a top tier idea in GO too, i'm glad they kept it

i have said it before and will say it a hundred times, endou's kid being uninterested in soccer and being a little brat in the field is a genius move and whoever came up with that should deserve a raise. it seems a bit self-evident but when you think about it... endou had met and recruited/shown the ways of sakka yarouze to many such kids who did not care about football the Right WayTM and for his son to become the antithesis of his own philosophy... *chef's kiss*

i am gonna lose my mind because of the names though... like i will end up referencing half the cast in japanese bc that is how i learnt their names before the game came out but now i only know many other character's translated names so... my tagging system will be a mess

[hazelkjt]

Lily of the Valley

"This is the poison of giving too much. You feel yourself emptying out, dizzying, discoloring-- until you fear you will fade entirely and wither away. You have always had to give. You never had a choice before. They pluck your flowers for their beauty, they trample your leaves carelessly, they pull out your roots by the fistful and berate you for daring to grow. And now that you have a grove to spread out in, your rhizomes tangle and curl in on themselves. When cruelty is all you've ever known, thriving seems impossible. But the answer is not to make yourself small and offer every lovely thing you are to the world in the hopes it will have mercy on you. The answer is to let yourself dare to thrive for thriving's sake, to grow in the wild ways you wish to-- and to do that for yourself for once."

tagged by: @selnyam and @cindernet-explorer, tyty!!!

gonna be tagging: @hinganskies, @sparrowsong-7, @ahollowgrave, @this-is-ris, and anyone I didn't tag but is reading this!

Quiz can be found here and a LONG write-up on this answer is under the read more

For both iterations of Hazel this is pretty spot on, minus the bits about cruelty and being "forced" to give. They both start out believing the value of their lives are determined by those around them, be it friends and especially any mentor or teaching figures. Her life is spent trying to appease and "make proud" the people in her life to fuel her sense of pride in herself. This is also the biggest source of WoL!Hazel's pressure and bottled up resentment of the Warrior of Light title, because each failure weighs heavily on her sense of self worth. Both eventually learn to let go of this behavior, to take value in their own life as something individually beautiful rather than always seeking the approval of others, though at completely different points in their lives. For Reg!Hazel, it was when she and her allies in Eorzea encounter and attempt to slay a Blasphemy following the events of the Final Days. It proved too much for the party and she was told to retreat. In her mind, doing so would be turning her back on all the people who praised her skills and the people who helped instill those skills in her. She tries to continue the fight and has her blade, a physical symbol of someone's trust in her, shattered into irreparable pieces. She felt lost and shattered herself after barely escaping with her life, and she never got closure on what happened to the monster that did this. Through much self reflection and a visit back home she eventually came to not rely on the approval of others and focused her idea of self worth coming from within, not others.

For WoL!Hazel...it was a long road. The title of Warrior of Light being thrust upon her took a long, long time to get over. Not until everything was all said and done, when the song at the end of existence changed from mourning to one of joy did she finally shed her paralyzing sense of burden regarding her role. But the cracks began to form way back after the Bloody Banquet when she first went off in a rage at Alphinaud, putting blame of everything that went wrong entirely on his shoulders. It was the first time she flat out said she never wanted to be a hero. From then on she fought with herself internally over continuing to be this hero for the world or to follow what Esteem had said: she doesn't owe anyone anything.

She bottled it all up until meeting Zenos, and coming to understand his sole desire was his own satisfaction. Everything he did, he did for himself. From then on Hazel contemplated on what she TRULY wanted in life, which eventually led her back to the same conclusion as to why she left the Azim Steppe in the first place. She wanted to see the world, its people, its lands. She wanted excitement, thrills, adventure, and saving people was icing on the cake. She's still good hearted and willing to help others, but now it's for her own personal satisfaction as much as it is to be the hero she is known to be. Ironically, despite hating Zenos for his actions he was the one to finally help Hazel first come to terms with herself, only to have this view strengthened by Zero later on.

[therandosfandos]

Sum: Fry and Bender get stuck on a ferris wheel for like thirty minutes, though there's a slight problem, Benders afraid of heights

*throws fluff in your face and runs*

Fry and Bender found themselves at Luna Park, a vibrant amusement park with rides and attractions that defied the laws of gravity. The duo, always eager for a good time, decided to conquer the towering Ferris wheel that loomed over the park. Little did they know that this innocent choice would lead to an unexpected adventure.

As the Ferris wheel ascended into the sky, Fry couldn't contain his excitement. "Isn't this amazing, Bender?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with childlike wonder.

Bender, however, looked less thrilled. His metallic exterior didn't betray emotions easily, but anyone who knew him well could sense his discomfort. "Yeah, yeah, real amazing. Just what I needed, being stuck in a giant spinning death trap," he grumbled.

The ascent continued, and the view from above became breathtaking. The park sparkled with colorful lights, and the bustling cityscape stretched out beyond. Fry marveled at the sight, oblivious to Bender's growing unease.

As the Ferris wheel reached its pinnacle, it came to an unexpected halt. Fry looked around, puzzled, while Bender's eyes widened in panic. "What's happening?" Fry asked, his excitement turning to confusion.

Bender's voice quivered, betraying his fear. "We're stuck, meatbag! Stuck up here in the sky, dangling like fools!"

Fry tried to reassure his robotic companion. "Come on, waffle, it's probably just a minor glitch. They'll fix it soon.", he kisses the bots metal cheek.

But Bender wasn't convinced. He clutched the safety bar as if his mechanical life depended on it. "I hate heights, Fry. Hate 'em more than paying taxes or helping old ladies cross the street. We're doomed!"

Fry, being Fry, decided to lighten the mood with a joke. "Well, at least if we fall, we'll have a really short trip."

Bender shot him a glare that could melt steel. "Real funny, meatbag. Real funny."

"Come on, Bender, it's not that bad. We're just enjoying the scenery from a different perspective," Fry said, attempting to ease Bender's anxiety.

Bender shot him a glare. "Enjoying the scenery? I'd rather be neck-deep in toxic waste than stuck up here, gazing at the world from a giant metal spider's web."

As minutes passed, the reality of being suspended high above the ground began to sink in. Fry, still optimistic, tried to engage his boyfriend in conversation. "Remember that time we accidentally ended up in space? This is nothing compared to that!"

Bender wasn't swayed. "Space has less gravity, Wiggles. And it doesn't involve giant metal death wheels. I'm gonna need some serious therapy after this."

Fry, determined to distract his metal lover from his fear, started telling stories. He recounted the time they went on a wild road trip through the desert and the absurd adventures that unfolded. Bender, reluctantly, found himself chuckling despite his anxiety.

But as the minutes turned into what felt like hours, even Fry's cheerfulness couldn't fully alleviate Bender's distress. The ground seemed impossibly far away, and every creak and groan of the Ferris wheel sent shivers down Bender's robotic spine.

Just when it seemed like they might be stuck up there forever, a crackling voice came over the intercom. "Sorry for the inconvenience, folks! We're working to fix the issue. Please remain calm."

Bender scoffed. "Remain calm? Easy for you to say when you're not afraid of plummeting to your doom!"

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the Ferris wheel jolted back to life. Fry cheered, and Bender let out a sigh of relief as they descended to solid ground.

As they stepped off the ride, Fry turned to Bender with a grin. "See, not so bad, right?"

Bender grumbled, "I still hate heights, but I guess surviving this ordeal makes me a true hero."

Fry playfully nudged him. "You're my hero, Bender, even if you are a little scared of heights. You're still so cute"

Bender rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just stick to ground-level fun from now on, okay?"

"Of course, baby", And with that, the duo continued their adventures at Luna Park, with Bender firmly keeping his feet on the ground, or at least on surfaces that didn't involve dizzying heights.

Soon, at the end of the day, they exited Luna Park, the sounds of laughter and joy fading behind them. Fry glanced at Bender, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Hey, you okay, buddy? You seemed pretty freaked up there at the ferris wheel," Fry asked, genuinely worried about his metallic friend.

Bender rolled his eyes, a habitual gesture to mask vulnerability. "Pfft, me? Freaked out? Please, I'm made of steel. Nothing scares me....", he trails off and fiddles with his hands, "maybe a bit..."

Fry chuckled, and picks the bot up. "Awh, you poor thing, I love you so much, my little robot...let's go back to the apartment and we can watch "all my circuits" all night long, okay?", Fry kisses the robots head. Bender can't help but giggle and nods, "id like that, idiot...", he cuddles up to the humans chest and Fry wrapped his red jacket around his metal boyfriend. As they walked away from the park, Bender's robotic swagger returned, concealing the memory of those harrowing moments high above the park.

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

The West Wing episode 4.20 "Evidence of Things Not Seen"

Have you ever noticed how the biggest names behind the camera tend to have close relationships with a handful of actors who are in everything they make? Aaron Sorkin is no exception, and honestly, I feel like I understand why. His work is so specific, just like Tarantino’s or Scorsese’s, and when you have such an identifiable style, I think it either clicks with you or it doesn’t. When you find people who click with you, whose brains meld seamlessly with yours, it really is a euphoric feeling and I imagine you’d want to keep those people close.

The West Wing, and Aaron Sorkin, click with me. Sometimes I watch a show and the thrill is having no idea what’s about to happen; I’m along for the ride in a vehicle that I barely recognize, let alone know how to drive. I would never be so bold as to think I could have taken the wheel of The West Wing, but to keep the comparison going, putting an episode on feels like getting into your mom’s car. You know all its little nuances, where the cupholders are, and how it’s going to feel on the road (and when to grab the handlebar).

“Evidence of Things Not Seen” has everything I love about The West Wing; it’s a fun one, but an inspiring one too, and it even guest stars- get this- Matthew Perry, fresh off of Friends. All the characters are mostly off the clock in this episode, so it’s time for a good poker game. Leo and the President are excited to kick back over a game of cards; Leo even has a full spread prepared, and tbh nothing makes me laugh like his reverent demand of CJ to “oooh squeeze this piece of rye bread”.

But the relaxation will of course be interrupted. The President will have to step in and out to negotiate with Kaliningrad- their government spotted an unmanned spy plane that we were flying over there, and Bartlet needs to talk them into giving it back. Our cover story: it was an environmental mission studying coastal erosion (Chinese spy balloon anyone?). Josh will have to do some back and forth too, interviewing a candidate to replace Ainsley Hayes as associate counsel.

Amid all of this, it’s the equinox, and CJ is convinced that at “the exact moment of the equinox” you can stand an egg on its end, and it won’t tip over. She’s carrying an egg around, but she hasn’t pulled it off yet and skepticism abounds.

All of Sorkin’s characters speak with what’s become his trademark cadence and tone so at times I see them as somewhat interchangeable- he just likes the sound of a group. But “Evidence of Things Not Seen” highlights the individual personalities and ideological differences that actually are present and consistent once you get past the similar speech pattern.

We’re launched into the title sequence with Bartlet giving the egg thing- and this coastal erosion cover story- a shot, but the egg topples over. His subsequently loaded “yeah, this isn’t gonna work” is about a lot more than the equinox. Compared to CJ, he’s always been a pragmatic optimist, entertaining every romantic idea but not expecting all of them to pan out. CJ, meanwhile, will always stick her neck out to vouch for the idealistic solution, even when it’s not even in the realm of realistic. She’s also usually right. In a previous episode, when everyone else guessed that the president’s approval rating had remained the same at best, she wagered that they had gone up 5 points, a number so preposterous Leo wouldn’t even repeat it to the President. Turns out she was lowballing. She’s also the voice of the iconic line “it’s about going to the blackboard and raising your hand- if you think you get it wrong sometimes, why don’t you come down here and see how the big boys do it.”

Toby’s even more complex than either of them, which I’d go so far as to say is the reason he also has the most complex individual relationship with almost every other character. He and Bartlet are a story for another day, but Toby and CJ’s deep, often wordless friendship really run wild in this episode. Toby’s created the image of himself as the pessimistic curmudgeon, but it’s a defense mechanism for the red hot idealism he’s carrying around. He’s so often disappointed, and he’s tired of it, but he can’t help but see so much potential in the world, even if he won’t admit it.

Will’s being in the Air Force won’t come up again after this episode, but it comes up in this one to serve the theme of Toby and CJ’s dueling worldviews. He’s heading to Wyoming to address a situation in which two launch crew officers who were slow to react to a threat of an incoming missile from North Korea. Turns out it was a good thing they asked some questions before enacting protocol, because it wasn’t a missile- it was a meteor from space. But they’re still being court-martialed because if it had been a missile, they wouldn’t have reacted in time. Toby can’t help but burst out laughing at this story (“Why do we think at this point that North Korea is attacking the East Coast of the United States?” “There are transcripts that show that surprise was expressed at that”). Then he turns it on CJ: “We failed on both a mechanical and human level. So tell me again what you have faith in”.

“Us. Because with what little free time he has, Will is going to Wyoming to defend one of these guys, and I don’t think it is failing on a human level”. Instead of responding, Toby lays down his cards, expecting to win the hand. But, in another symbolic move that speaks to a lot more than poker, CJ lays out a full house, sweeping up the chips in her unexpected win.

While this weighty discussion hung in the air, Will, Toby, and CJ had another thing to attend to- a bet amongst men that the other couldn’t hurl a playing card into the podium from the fifth row in the press room. They head down there, with CJ tagging along hoping to see them both fail- no one’s taking her very seriously tonight, after all. Instead of settling that debate, they’re interrupted by three gunshots slamming into the press room window. Will’s military training kicks in and he drops to the floor and rattles off ballistics to the secret service agents that instantly burst in, but CJ freezes. It’s Toby who pulls her to the ground in the heat of the moment.

I don’t love this being the second time CJ’s been “saved” by a man in this show (Sam did the same thing at Roslyn), but this interaction with Toby feels a lot more organic than that did, and so does the way they address it. On the whole, everything about an active shooter and subsequent crash of the building is a tired plot at this point. I’d actually go as far as to say this entire episode is pretty unoriginal- a criticism I read when doing some research on this episode. But I think the familiarity of the situation is exactly the thing that gives this episode that fun, cozy, President-in-a-sweatshirt feel. We’ve done the defcon 1 “can you believe it?!” active shooter plot before, so now we’re able to have some fun with it (“fun” on The West Wing is a relative term).

The secret service herds Toby, CJ, Will, and Josh into the oval office to make sure there’s eyes on everyone. Charlie and Debbie are already accounted for, but they don’t have code word clearance, so they’re not allowed in the Oval, where the spy plane discussion is still ongoing. At least, according to the Secret Service. Bartlet good naturedly explains that “if Charlie heard there were bullets, he’s gonna overpower whoever’s trying to—” and he’s cut off by Charlie, sure enough, bursting into the room. The President grins, we grin, he pulls Charlie in close and promises he’s okay. Satisfied, Charlie marches right back out. Then Bartlet says “I’m surprised you guys managed to keep Fiderer in her chair, I’d have thought she’d be the first one to- oh no here we are!” as she too fights her way in the room, looking the President up and down and declaring that she will be back to take his blood pressure shortly.

In a beat amidst the commotion, CJ asks Toby if he knew that a day on the moon and a year on the moon were the same thing. He did. The moment hangs there. Then she says, “I thought my reflexes before, in the press room, were cat-like.” And then we cut away. I love how little we have to say in this episode, and it’s our familiarity with these people, these rooms, and this situation that really let us all just play here in “Evidence of Things Not Seen”.

And nowhere is this episode having more fun than it is with Josh and the unexpectedly incredible chemistry he has with Matthew Perry’s Joe Quincy. Throughout this entire episode he’s back and forth between advising the President and interviewing new associate counsel Joe Quincy. Joe is quiet, collected, funny, and overqualified, but something is off about him, and Josh can’t figure out what. In an aside to Donna, Josh muses that “it’s the strangest feeling. It’s like… a really good baseball player is standing in the other team’s locker room for the first time.” To which Donna says, “I don’t understand, are you writing poetry about this now?”

But his gut is onto something, and he’s trying to figure out what- amidst it all, though, he’s also starting to like him. Josh is amused that the vetting team made Joe fill out the psychological part of the questionnaire- something he can relate to, and I’ll come right back to that in a second. Josh asks a question I think we all probably wonder when filling out forms like this but have never thought to put into words:

“Question 1: a) I do not feel sad; b) I feel sad; c) I am sad all the time and I can’t snap out of it; d) I am so sad or unhappy that I want to kill myself. You chose a) I do not feel sad.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Ever?”

“No.”

“No, you don’t ever feel sad, or…?”

“No, there are times when I feel sad.”

“Yet you checked the first box, why is that?”

“It said, ‘I do not feel sad’ and I didn’t at the time I checked it.”

This exchange, and their whole dynamic, feels both funny and poignant, but the tables turn when the shooting happens in the very next scene. Donna is instantaneous in checking on Josh, worried about the shooting stirring up his PTSD and telling him, against his wishes, that she is going to be giving his therapist a heads up that he might be calling later. 

When Josh explains the building crash to Joe, he says he didn’t hear the shots, but “I heard a brass quintet playing The First Noel, so I just assumed someone somewhere was locked and loaded.” Joe doesn’t hesitate to reply with “You know, not for nothing, but the people that I talk to don’t believe that story, and the people that you’d like don’t care.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but like I said, funny and poignant.

But it’s not only the sentiment that throws Josh off, it’s the wording. Finally, Josh puts it together- Joe is a republican. Once his secret is out, Joe explains that he’s gotten himself in bad standing with the rest of the party by voicing an unpopular opinion, but he wants to work at the White House because, of course, he has a sense of duty. The whole thing is a soft, respectful, and incredibly loaded homage to both Ainsley Hayes and arguably the show’s best episode, “Noel”. And, just like Ainsley, Joe finds himself fitting right in, even as Josh tries to fight it. He recommends him to Leo and gets him the job.

I really love this episode for all the same reasons I think it often flies under the radar of West Wing greatest hits. It’s not remarkable, it’s not doing anything we haven’t done before, but it has its finger right on the pulse of every one of these characters. It’s exactly our deep familiarity with everyone and everything that lets the slightest touch hold so much significance, depth, and humor.  It just takes half a sentence for a character to say something profound about another, or to call back to nostalgic characters and plot points.  And I almost forgot to mention- we end with CJ standing an egg on its end. I well up every time.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Ride the Cyclone Kids and Sleepovers

okay, so i’m gonna do a few headcanons for sleepovers at specific people’s houses (Penny excluded), then general headcanons!

Constance’s house!

Second best place to have sleepovers at

Her parents are SO NICE

Dinner is always THE BEST there

Constance’s little brother sometimes hangs out with them for a bit

You can’t tell me Constance doesn’t own ALL the Just Dance games

So they usually end up having a very fierce dance battle during sleepovers

Constance always gives her bed to someone else, what a sweetheart

They somehow end up binge watching Barbie movies while over at her house

Mischa’s house!

Best place to have a sleepover at because they can do whatever the hell they want in his basement

There’s so much room for activities!

When they go to sleep, they’re usually sprawled out All Over the floor since there’s a lot of space

I feel like Mischa’s basement is the perfect location for playing Twister

Noel’s house!

They can’t be as wild at his house to keep from disturbing his mom, but it’s still really fun over there!

His mom likes seeing Noel hanging out with other kids :)

Catch Ocean out here CONSTANTLY sucking up to Ms. Gruber

Ocean’s house!

Worst place for sleepovers

First of all, it smells like weed and incense, which is just AWFUL

Second of all, her parents are just…really weird

They make everyone Really Uncomfortable

I feel like Ocean’s house has an awesome backyard, though, so they’ll usually hang out outside

Or in her room

She’s always so embarrassed of her house, poor girl

She hides it, though

Ricky’s house!

He definitely owns a Switch, so they’ll usually play games like Mario Kart

Which turns the whole sleepover into a literal WAR (Ocean will pick Rainbow Road Every Single Time)

When over at his house, it’s basically assured that SOMEONE is gonna wake up with a cat on their face

General sleepover shenanigans!

Okay, so, pajamas? (yes, it’s important I provide reference photos, you gotta get the VIBE)

Noel’s got, like, these (fake) silk pajamas, and it’s So Extra

Penny’s in this simple but super cute night gown

Constance has frog pajamas fight me

Meanwhile, Ricky has cat pajamas

Ocean has these weird upcycles pajamas

Mischa is just in some shorts and a muscle shirt

Penny got the Whole Choir animal slippers, and they’re all Legally Required to wear them

Penny has sheep (because of her last name), Ricky has cats (obviously), Noel has rabbits, Mischa has sharks (that look like they’re eating his feet), Constance has hedgehogs, and Ocean has penguins

They all fight over what movie to watch

“Citizen Kane!” “ew, no! we should watch Rear Window!” “i just wanna watch The Lion King 2…” “can we PLEASE watch Encanto” “SAW V!!!!!!!”

Sleepover games? Sleepover games

They do that game where you make the worst concoction of different food/drinks possible and have other people consume it (Ocean almost dies Every Time because you can’t tell me homegirl doesn’t have the weakest stomach ever)

THEY PLAY GARTIC PHONE

Here’s some examples of what they would do from when I played with my own friends

In order of who drew what: Constance, Ocean, Ricky, Penny

In order of who drew what: Ocean, Constance, Noel, Ricky, Penny, Mischa

Noel: Ocean, Kiss, Marry, Kill: Penny, Constance, and Mischa >:)

Ocean: I’m acearo

Noel: Shit my bad

Noel: Ocean, Have As A Lab Partner For A Whole Semester, Be Stuck Inside An Elevator With For Seven Hours, Get Trained By At A Fast Food Restaurant: Penny, Constance, and Mischa >:)

Ocean ALWAYS helps clean up while at someone else’s house (just because she wants the praise from their parents and HAS to be the favorite friend)

Noel: What the fuck are you doing

Ocean, doing the dishes: My part

OR

Mrs. Potts: Ricky, sweetie, why is your ginger friend vacuuming the carpet? How did she even know where the vacuum was??

Ricky, signing: She does that, just let it run its course

Mischa initiates pillow fights

Penny and Ricky would convince the others to make blanket forts with them

Mischa and Noel both like to style/braid the girls’ hair

When it finally falls silent, and they all seem like they’re finally about to go to sleep for the night, one of them will laugh for No Reason and cause all the others to start howling with laughter

If there’s no room on a couch when everyone else is already sitting, Penny will just be like “guess I have to lay on all of you”

And then she lays on all of them

One time while at Constance’s house, SOMEONE yelled for the Alexa to play Roman Holiday and utter MAYHEM broke out after that

Noel and Penny were SINGING

Ricky was jamming out, living his best life

Ocean was DESPERATELY trying to get the Alexa to stop

Constance was like “guys! guys, shh! people are gonna hear you!” (cause hc that the Blackwoods live above the cafe)

Mischa arrived back from the bathroom and was Very Confused

Noel and Penny were using random utensils as microphones and kept trying to get the others to join them (“come on, Mischa!” “this is a spatula”)

Penny, holding a ladle out to Constance: sing it, Constance!

Constance, leaning into the ladle like it’s an actual microphone: i don’t know Roman Holiday

Meanwhile, Ocean was DYING

Ocean, sobbing: Alexa, stop playing Roman Holiday!

Alexa didn’t hear her

Alexa wished for her death

[elvenbeard]

2077, November

"Heeey... All good? What're you doing out here, so early?"

"Couldn't sleep... Wanted to watch the sun rise."

"Well, here I am!"

2077 was a hell of a year. It left its marks, mental and physical, trauma and scars alike, memories and lack thereof. A year ago Vince was working at Arasaka, desperate to stay in the corporate world despite it slowly destroying him from the inside out. A year later Arasaka is only a shadow of it former self - and in a way Vince felt like a shadow, too.

Six months had been Alt's prognosis, at most... then he'd die. For good this time. Vince knew the drill. But he also knew he would try everything in his power, utilize all means possible and necessary... Because yes, 2077 had been one hell of a year, of loss, despair, betrayal and pain... But also of hope, trust, friendship and love, and connections, however unlikely they may have seemed.

The road ahead is still long, and it will be far from easy. But he is at peace knowing he won't be walking it alone.

Vince through the years (9/9)

Aaand the series is complete! ;A; Ending it on a somewhat bittersweet note with a few of more pictures this time cause look at them looking at each other ;___;

Vince has always been a deeply lonely person trying to find his place and purpose - as you'll surely have gathered reading along this far. By 2077 he finally finds his people, real friends in the most unlikely places, that he cares about and that care about him. And after how badly his previous relationship with his Arasaka-coworker Shou ended, he wouldn't have expected to get another shot at love, too. I definitely feel like he found a soulmate in Kerry, very scared in the beginning that his feelings for him were only brought on because of Johnny, and should he get rid of Johnny he'd also lose the connection to Kerry. He didn't though, thankfully. Vice versa, Kerry found someone who really understands his loneliness and struggles and takes them seriously. They really match very well on many levels and bring out the best in the other (on most days at least :P), something I neither planned for nor expected, and probably why I'm so obsessed with them at the moment XD They really are each other's sun, driving away shadows and doubts, a light in the darkness.

But yeah, Vince has a lot to lose really, and together with Kerry and everyone else they try and find a way to solve the Relic-problem so now that he found his place and people he can stay with them, live the balance of quiet and exciting life he deserves and always wished for.

The scars I gave him here (and damn, it hurt me to make them 😭) are not 100% canon yet... I'm gonna explore and explain what they are and how he got them in my post-ending fic soon-ish.

But yeah... V gets his happily ever after with his loved ones, in one way or another, and CDPR can take my headcanons from my cold dead hands xDD No but really, I get it. In a world like Cyberpunk there's no such thing as a sunshine-and-rainbows happy ending with world peace and all... and even mine is gonna come at a certain cost. But if anyone, V deserves some peace and love after that shitshow :D

That being said:

Before and after! The scars are drawn on, and I used the relief layer effect in Photohsop to give them some dimension. Was really a matter of playing around with colors and layer modes to make them somewhat convincing looking, but I'm really liking the result a lot!

Once again it gets me how different Vince looks without his iconic hair and makeup 😭 Believe me, he had a really really hard time when he was told "we gotta shave your head for this procedure" cause throughout his life his hair has been a really important part of his self-expression. From dyeing it blond as a teen to rebel against his parents, to going completely wild afterwards, conforming to Arasaka, then slowly finding himself again... With everything gone he felt like yet another part of him was gone and yeah... wasn't a good time, that time in late 2077.

If you've read along all the way: thanks so much!! I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed creating it and sharing a bit more about Vince's background and how he became who he is. When I'm done writing my post-ending fic I might go back to writing and sharing his background story fic, detailing everything from this series a bit more, and you'll get to know some of the people I only mentioned in passing (his mother, his first real boyfriend, his coworkers, etc.) a bit better, too.

So... Thanks for sticking around!! :D