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Just received some very exciting news that a reader of Hocus Pocus (@so-yeaahhh) has finished translating the entire story to russian! That is so incredibly cool and I’m having trouble coming to terms with how surreal it feels! To any russian speakers who are interested, do check out their hard work!!
#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#this is actually so cool#every time im reminded of this it’s like im hit with the force of a thousand bricks#i can’t even begin to imagine how much work it took
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Ohmygosh u wrote it!!!🥰
Thank you soooo much this is so nice and pretty, made my day 😚💕💕💕
ahhh i'm so glad you liked it !!! 🥰 <333
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flooflyfloofy jiminie with bedhair all sleepy and needing your warmth back but having to wake up cus ur calling him and u both really need to go but he's secretly happy as well bcs waking up to you isn't so bad and u look cute cute cute and you're just there :)
SRRY FOR THE WAIT!! but what a lovely request :) hope you like it!!
words: 664
You love mornings.
You didn’t always love mornings, of course. If you think really hard, you can almost remember how repetitive they used to be. They’re still repetitive, in a way; except now, you don’t mind it at all, not when it comes in the form of a still sleeping Jimin, curled up into a ball like a tiny, forlorn kitten.
He’s wrapped up into the sheets that are both nighttime chilled and morning-sun warmed. When you sit up to look, even as you check all angles, you can still only see his fringe sticking out, the rest of him nestled deep into the comforter. He always manages to snatch them up, try as he might to share them when he’s awake.
Tentatively, you brush a hand through his hair, leaning in close to whisper, “My love?” He makes a soft noise, but overall doesn’t move. You chuckle. “Jimin-ah.”
He shifts, and suddenly, along with the fringe, there are eyes peeking out from the sheets, hair sticking up in places it shouldn't.
You grin. “There you are.”
“Mmf.” He answers, intelligently.
“It’s rare for you sleep in,” You smile, still running a hand through his hair. He leans into the touch much like a kitten would.
“S’rare for you wake’p first.” He drawls, voice still raspy with sleep. He’s fully uncovered now, belly-up, turned towards the morning sun just barely peeking through the blinds.
"You cold?"
Jimin's hair bobs when he nods, eyes still shut tight. He pats the sheets blindly in search of you, then lays a hand over the bare skin of your tummy, snaking his other up your back, pulling you back down to lay next to him. You comply with a laugh, soft soft, careful not to break the cotton candy sweet of this morning, the tenderness of it.
“Hehe. Puffy.” You say once you're settled, poking the under of his eye. You jump when he pinches your side in vengeance, eyes still closed, “Ow! Why!”
“You’re evil, is why.”
“I’m not. Just opportunistic.” He pinches you again, harder this time. “Stop that!”
“Too early for you to be evil.” When he smiles, it’s all mirth.
“And you’re allowed to be a brat?”
“Yes. I’m cuter and you love me. That’s how it works.”
“Wow. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.” When he laughs his little skipping laugh, that tiny back-lilt in warm and soft silk, you wonder what would happen if you kissed the corner of his mouth, right there where his laugh gets caught. You don’t have to wonder for long.
It’s not the most romantic thing ever, when he leans in to kiss you. It’s slow, and languid, and there’s a bit of morning breath mixed in— but it’s long enough that underneath it, he tastes like the mint toothpaste you both use and something else. Something more gentle.
He presses both your foreheads together before letting go. You feel breakable.
“More, please,” He says, too politely for the occasion. You laugh, smiling so hard it hurts. Or it doesn’t hurt. That’s not the word you want. It sticks. It warms.
Jimin pulls you closer by the waist and guides you to crawl over him, and you cover him much like your cotton sheets would, when you notice his eyes are half-closed. “Jimin!”
“Hm!” His eyes startle open. You giggle at how silly he looks. “What. Just wan’ kiss.” He puckers his lips theatrically. You can do nothing if not acquiesce.
Later, you will both get up, and Jimin will pull you up like it’s the most exercise he’s done in weeks, huffing and puffing dramatically. Later, you’ll both brush your teeth, and he’ll make you laugh so hard you’ll spit toothpaste on the mirror. Later, he’ll help you button your shirt just for the sake of it, and his hands will linger and tease and settle on your waist like they belong.
That’s later though. Now, he tastes like laughter and bright gold and sunlight and early mornings.
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and... btw... ive been meaning to ask, ur name here, as in what should I call u... if u dnt mind...
🥺👉👈
i don’t mind at all! tbh i’ve been meaning to change my username bc i made my current one during my cringe phase but… ppl know me for my cringe name already…. I’M A LOST CAUSE…. but yea u can call me by my irl nickname, bela !
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okay... I think, i'm a bit calm now and trust a little to not embarass myself. (I probably will with my babbling)
To be honest, I was a bit hesitant, and low-key embarrassed to be asking of something you've already written and also bcs I've already showed how insane I am...
And honestly, I don't regret it. Because this, I just know, has made my year. again.
Did I mention that this story was my happy place before? It still is and it always will be.
And it just got a thousand times better. (I wondered if it could when I first read it)
To me, this is phenomenal and no, I'm not saying this just to compliment but because it is. It's quiet it's beautiful it's warm its a dream I could spend in forever. And it's so so true. "You could do it yourself, but why should I let you, when I am here, and you are loved?" is I think utterly beautiful.
And ofcourse, the cherry on top; "Will you marry me?" "Again?" "Again." took my breath away, completely.
Thank you, thank you so so so much once again I don't have words to thank you enough and by the way... my standards... is anything you go with, I'm nothing.
thank you 💝
well if u think YOURE insane i think this comment will rlly show how normal u are compared to me because i am going absolutely bonkers insane rn;;;; i can’t stop rereading this and smiling;;; it’s so crazy how smth i make can bring even the slightest amount of joy to someone :) this means a lot to me, tysm!!!
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!!!!! um... I don't know if you want to write about new ones or not... but I also can't think of any new ideas since I'm freakin out a bit but I'll do some more thinking so.... um... a short little drabble or maybe a snippet of their lives in spring leaves after they confessed, how life is fr them now....?
i had a really fun time with this one, thank you to my designated spring leaves fan for requesting :) I hope it's up to your standards!!
masterlist
words: 1.5k
There is a quiet peace in marriage that you’re still coming to terms to.
It goes beyond learning each other’s habits, or making time for each other, or even whispered words of love. It is more the realization that you are loved— the knowledge that you can take care of yourself, but now, you are creating a space where you can take care of each other. That you could be trying to open a particularly difficult pickle jar and Jimin could take it and say “Let me help you,” that in it, there exists a prayer for which no words are said: You could do it yourself, but why should I let you, when I am here, and you are loved?
That being loved in this way is a choice, one that you both continue to choose.
Jimin chooses this, still, as he runs in tune with your pace, when you both know he could leave you in the dust.
(That morning, a gentle arm tries its best to slip out from under your head without waking you. When you groggily come to, even in your haze you can see the guilt on Jimin’s face.
“Sorry,” He says, pulling his arm out the rest of the way to run a hand through your hair.
“S’okay,” you croak, cupping the back of his head to pull him back down to bed. He’s smiling as he complies, lets himself be pulled, be held, and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he wraps his arms around you, too.
Just as you’re trying to gather your thoughts into one coherent sentence, Jimin pipes up from where his nose is pressed into your shoulder, body twisted into an awkward angle as he leans into you, “Gotta go.”
“Where?” You say, then, “Oh. Running? Don’t go. Let’s cuddle instead.”
You feel his lips move before the words are even formed, feel the way they curve into a smile. “I can’t. And we cuddled all night already.”
“So what? Are you tired of me? Am I not appealing to you anymore?”
“So dramatic.” He laughs quietly. “You could always go running with me.”
You think for a second. It’s not like you don’t want to keep him company, moreso that if you were to try and get up, you’re pretty sure your legs would turn to jelly. You would barely walk, let alone run, given that it’s—you squint at the clock(oh my god, is that a seven?)— well. Very early.
Except.
“I’ll run with you.”
Jimin blinks. “What?”
“Yeah. Cuddle for thirty minutes and I’ll run with you.” He gives you a dubious look. “I’m serious! Set an alarm. Thirty minutes.”)
As he stops you from snoozing the alarm for a third time and practically puts your shoes on for you, you’d already accepted the fact that he’s well built. Jimin stretches, and jogs, and lifts, and it’s not like you can’t run, rather that you’d prefer to be doing, well, anything else.
Still, he works to match your pace, a gentle rhythm on the pavement as you make your way around the house, through the garden, past the greenhouse. Not through the forest like he usually does, since it’s dry around this time of the year, and the fungi would rather be left alone.
Well. A water break would be nice.
“We’re almost at our bench,” He’s saying, and you’re struggling to understand him past the need to lie down on the dirt and die. “We could rest up a bit and continue, yeah?”
“Good. Good plan.”
You practically collapse on the bench. You’ve sat here plenty of times, what with the way it sits neatly between the garden, the hydrangeas and the back of the house, but never have you felt so relieved to have leftover humidity and dried up dirt on your butt. You pat the bench in thanks. Good bench.
Your head lolls against his shoulder. “I don’t like you.”
“You offered to come! We made a fair transaction!” He laughs, his skin sun-kissed and sweaty and pretty. He leans his head over yours, “C’mon, it’s just a mile left, back the way we came.”
“A mile? Still?”
“It’ll be quick! We can walk the rest of the way.”
Your voice is muffled from how your cheek is pressed to his shoulder, “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of going on a run?”
“If you can be a smartass that means you don’t have to sit anymore,” He feigns getting up long enough to draw a whine from you, and he’s laughing when he leans back. You move to glare up at him indignantly, and take the opportunity to stare. He’s so bright. The sun rose twice this morning.
You bump your forehead back against his shoulder, and he seems to take that as an opportunity to kiss the crown of your head, hands working their way over your arms and down to your hips. “Still don’t like you,” You grumble.
Another kiss. “What was it you said to me yesterday? Something like...'You’re weird and that’s why I like you?’” Jimin presses a trail of them up to your jaw, letting them linger.
“A lapse of judgement.” You say, but you’re melting into him anyway, and when he laughs, it rumbles through his chest and down your throat all the way to the tips of his hands where they now touch your bare skin, the very edge of where hip meets belly.
“Brat,” He smiles against your neck, half-whispered. His hand trails down further until it reaches your fingers, playing with your wedding ring. Something fond flutters in your chest. “Do you ever think about our wedding?”
“All the time,” You say, voice embarrassingly breathy, but you’re too scraped raw to come up with excuses for it. “Still dream about it sometimes, too.”
“Yeah?” He says, soft, but there’s a trepidation, there. Like he’s still trying to find the best way to words his thoughts. You love that about him, so you hold his hand back, letting both your rings tap together delightfully, giving him the space to think. After a while, he continues, “I still regret those first few months. How I treated you.” You open your mouth to reply, take a breath and everything, but he pinches the skin of your hand to stop you, “I know you say I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Because that’s the thing about Jimin: he gives too much of himself away, loves too openly, too eagerly. Never asks to be more comfortable, as long as the other person is. His heart stretches to make room until it bleeds, like a mother’s womb, and you’re worried about what will happen if it ever were to stretch too thin.
(You’d told him, once— you don’t have to please anyone, you know— and, please, put yourself first sometimes, Jimin smiled, a little sad, said: I don’t know how, anymore.)
“I never blamed you for it.” You’re so close you can feel each time he draws a breath. It’s soothing. “There was nothing to forgive.”
“You say that, but. But.” He makes a soft noise. “I didn’t make it any easier.”
I am very much in love. It’s not new, nor a belated sort of realization. It was a belated realization at one point, surely, but not now. Now, it’s as worn through a fact as any other you know, something else to tuck away for safe-keeping.
You are in love, and so is he, and so even if the beginning was rough and unfair, everything that happened in your life that led up to it has been worth it.
You hold him a little tighter. “Not everything can be easy.”
For a moment you both sit there, listening to the gentle breeze, the distant sounds of the waking world. There’s a far-off chirp, like that of a baby bird learning to sing, and overhead, the early morning dew is giving way to a foggy sky. Spring is on its way again. Each one is getting easier than the last.
After what feels like a long time, Jimin raises his head. You stare. Not everything can be easy, but this is. Loving Jimin is the easiest thing in the world.
“Do you want to get married again?”
For a moment, you feel the world’s axis start to tilt towards the sun.
“What?”
He smiles, something slow and tentative. “Wll you marry me?”
Inexplicably, you laugh. “Again?”
“Again.”
“Jimin.” You feel Jimin grow in happiness. You feel like you’re growing, too. “If this is because you feel bad—”
“No. I want this.” He draws circles over your fingers, tightens his hold. “I want this very much.”
Never has the world felt so vibrant, and so, so lived in.
“I think.” You breathe. “I want that, too.”
(“Can we celebrate both anniversaries?”
“Brat.” Jimin laughs, all curled up around you. Has he always been this warm? “I’ll make sure to schedule the wedding on the same date as before.”
“What the hell!”
He’s still laughing as he kisses you, both hands cupping your neck, and there’s no hesitance in how he loves you.
You think, for a moment, about how every question you had about loving Jimin has been answered: He smiles into his kisses. He rolls his head back when he laughs. And—
He tastes like the sun.)
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hi! maybe you could reblog a prompt list for the requests?
here are a few <3
https://creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/660131789870923776/writing-games
https://oh-nostalgiaa.tumblr.com/post/163266313294/writing-prompt-masterlist
https://oh-nostalgiaa.tumblr.com/post/636646908895657984/writing-prompt-masterlist-part-two
https://linwritesif.tumblr.com/post/683691758169784320/a-list-of-prompts-and-ask-games
- 🌙
NICE this is extremely helpful!!! it must have taken a lot of work so thanks a lot for the suggestions :’) i’ll pick one once i finish all the requests i’ve already gotten!
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I WAS … gonna reblog my initial prompt post…. but i ended up deleting it by accident . how . but thank you to everyone for the warm responses!! i’ll start writing as soon as i get home!
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hmmm i have some time on my hands so i’m thinking of accepting prompts !! if anyone has any ideas for me i might write a short drabble of it! if this flops no one saw anything .
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kitchen witch Yoongi 🥺
INDEED........... he is Sweet............. and Warm.............. he make Potion........... he nap by the sun.. such emotion
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here after that photofolio picture of Yoongi with the toasted marshmallows because yes, you are right, his vibe is a sweet, warm, gooey marshmallow with just the right amount of campfire charring
:]
you are absolutely correct!!!!!!! give it up for: Him
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thorns and mildew is so good I want more 😭😭😭💔💔💔
i'm so glad u liked it !!! <33
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Gosh, you never fail to awe me. and here I was on my merry way to revisit my comfort, my happy place, my one and only: spring leaves, after what seems like decades of (not just the story but logging into tumblr as well) and i'm struck by another wonderful wonderful piece of art... thorns&mildew is honestly, truly wondrous. (honestly how do you do that?? Your writing... is SO good it gets me eVery. time.) making me into warm gooey mush all over again... oh gosh...
aaa hello welcome back!!! i can’t believe ppl still remember me i,,, 🥺🥺,,, words cannot express how much Joy that brings me,,, u are ALSO making me into warm gooey mush!! honestly i was v nervous to write here cause it’s been so long and it felt like everything i was writing wasn’t good enough 🥹 so i’m very relieved u enjoyed my yoongi fic! tysm!!!
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As we approach the final days of summer, the local fennypig population has reached its most vibrant form, in what must be one last hurrah for warm weather and flowers. I've never seen such a variety of fennypigs all in one place! You can find these summertime companions in the shop tonight (8/25) at 5 pm EST!
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