#made a playlist for my Our Traveling Home character

[beskarandblasters]

Stonecatcher

Chapter One: Working for the Knife

Din Djarin x OFC!Athalia (Second Person POV)

Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Series summary: An up-and-coming bounty hunter and a promising arms dealer cross paths on Dantooine. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?

Series warnings: pre season one of The Mandalorian, instant smut but slow burn romantically, Athalia is able-bodied but other than that has no physical description, angst

Chapter summary: An introduction into our main character, Athalia, the people around her, and the world she lives in. And the fateful night she crosses paths with a certain Mandalorian.

Word count: 3.5k

Chapter warnings: sonic = shower, descriptions of nausea, taking medication, drinking, dub con/consent under the influence, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of birth control (implant)

Gas hangs heavy in the air, permeating the small room and suffocating your senses. Your hands are slick with the thick substance as you fill-up the cartridges, getting ready to load them into the blasters. Every so often you stop and look away, blinking and holding back tears from the fumes. It’s painstaking work, often messy and tedious but you suppose it’s better than working in a brothel or even a cantina like your friend Sheva. 

But eventually, you need a break, pulling yourself out of your chair and stepping out back for some fresh air. Your house is located on the edge of Casia, a small village on Dantooine. There’s not much here yet but the influx of travelers leads you to believe Casia will be much more than a primitive village one day. 

Your house overlooks the rolling hills and grassy knolls. The rainy season just ended which made the brown grass tinged with a shade of lavender. In the distance, there are a few blba trees, branches shaking in the gentle wind along with the blades of grass. The afternoon sun is shining and the air is invigorating, a harsh contrast to the stuffy gas-filled interior of your home. Moments like this where you’re appreciating the little things are few and far between lately. Your business has consumed everything– your thoughts, your time, your social life.  

You take one final deep breath, closing your eyes as you do as if the stress will just melt away. If it only were that easy.

“Are you stopping by tonight?”

You startle with a jolt, turning around to find Sheva, standing with a smile and a hand on her hip. She’s wearing her work uniform, stopping by your place on the way to her shift tonight. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles. 

“You’re fine,” you sigh, “But to answer your question, I think so.”

“You think so??”

“What?” you shrug.

“You should get out more often.”

“There’s not much to do in this town to begin with.”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Still, there’s plenty more to do here besides sitting in your house all day, huffing blaster fumes.”

“I’m building my business!” you protest.

“Mhm, sure.”

“Hey, once I gain a more steady customer base I can afford to get those gas cartridges pre-filled.”

“I am just waiting for the day,” she says sarcastically.

“I’ll be there tonight, I promise.”

“Holding you to it,” she says, turning and saying goodbye over her shoulder. 

Once you head back inside to get ready for the evening you’re immediately sent into a coughing fit. A pounding headache follows soon after. Maybe Sheva was right…

Fresh air spills in through the windows of your front room as you open them one by one, but it’s not enough. The sonic might help. You turn on the water, shedding your clothes as you wait for it to heat up. The steam fills the small room, alleviating your headache just a tad. But as you wash the gas off your hands, you realize there’s one thing that’ll actually do you some good; a trip to the Apothecary. Medication will quell your headache but a conversation with Sulee, the owner, is perhaps the most healing thing on Dantooine. You’ve known her since you were a child and she’s watched you grow up. She’s been there for you through everything– every test you took in school, every breakup, every fight with Sheva. She’s watched you through every stage of your life and somehow she always knows just what to say when you’re feeling lost and in need of guidance. 

Once you’re out of the sonic you dry off and look over your outfit choices for tonight, thumbing through your closet for the perfect thing to wear. Nights out are scarce lately now that you’re so dedicated to the business and it feels like you have endless options to choose from, all outfits from your younger, wilder days. But then you finally settle on one of your old favorites– a simple black dress with matching boots before locking up and heading to the apothecary.

It’s golden hour now and the village is cast in a hazy red glow. Now’s the time when people start pouring into the cantina because there’s nothing else to do. It’ll be a miracle if you get a seat at the bar or even talk to Sheva throughout her shift. She’ll just push you to try and meet someone and you fight back, telling her there’s no one to meet here, that this town is too small for dating. And then you’ll drink too much, filling up on revnog before going back to your fume-filled house, that’ll only contribute to the killer hangover you’ll have the next day. Sounds like a blast.

The Apothecary is located in the center of the village, a modest-looking building decked out in the same earth tones that match Dantooine. Spring is coming to an end but the flowers planted out front are thriving, blooming in a lavender color similar to the blades of grass. Sulee takes pride in keeping the outside of her building presentable, making sure the weeds are pulled and the flowers are cared for. But in her old age, it’s hard for her to get down on the ground by herself, finding herself stuck until someone walks by to help her up. You try to help her when you can but it’s been getting more and more difficult for you to help when the business has occupied all of your time. It makes you feel guilty, flaking out on someone who’s been there for you your whole life. You try not to think about it that much, only letting the guilt eat away at you at night when you’re alone in bed, staring up at the ceiling and telling yourself you can do better, you can be better. 

Now’s not the time for guilt.

The Apothecary smells heavenly when you step inside but it’s also impossibly warm. Spring is transitioning into summer and there’s no need for the wood-burning stove to be on. But she’s old so she gets a pass, even though you can feel the sweat already building up on your back. 

“You look sick, Athalia,” she says, not even looking up from the pot she’s stirring on the stove.

“I am not!” you say defensively, just as your headache pangs again.

“You don’t go outside anymore,” she sighs, looking up at you from her stool, “You know the sun is good for you, right?”

“You sound like Sheva. You two conspiring against me or something?”

“Just looking out for your best interest,” she shrugs, “Do you need anything?”

“I just have a headache.”

“Knew you looked sick,” she tuts, “Let me get you a pill.”

She goes to rise from her stool but you stop her, helping her sit back down.

“I’ll get it. Just tell me where.”

“Top shelf to the right,” she says, pointing to the shelf behind the counter. 

You head behind the counter, glancing at the notepad open on a page with a to-do list on it. A quick glance at Sulee lets you know that her back is towards you still, giving you a moment to snoop. You look over the page, focusing less on the contents of the list and more on the state of her handwriting. It’s shaky and barely legible. You’re reminded again of her declining health and how absent you’ve been lately. 

“Did you find it?” she asks, still facing the stove. 

“Yup!” you lie, spinning around and scanning the top shelf.

You find the bottle she was talking about, downing a couple of pills before setting it back on the shelf. 

“Have fun tonight,” she says, looking up at you as you walk to the door.

“I didn’t even tell you where I was going.”

“The cantina. Where else would you be going?”

“You’re right.”

“There’s nothing else to do in this town,” you both say simultaneously. You share a laugh and start to feel a bit better for once. 

“See you later!” you call over your shoulder before leaving the Apothecary. 

The cantina is on the other side of Casia, on the side of the village where the river sits. It’s sort of an unfortunate place for the cantina to be considering that many travelers will drunkenly stumble and fall into the river. Luckily for Casia, charging travelers rescue fees is one of the village’s largest sources of profit. 

The cantina is just about as busy as you thought it would be. Many of the townspeople are packed into booths lining the outer edge of the room. But there are also a few people you don’t recognize, mainly humans but also a few other species such as a Trandoshan, three Twi’leks, and a Sullustan. The free-standing tables are full but luckily there are two seats left at the bar.

Perfect. You can stay close to Sheva like you had hoped to, enjoy a few rounds of revnog, and turn in early. 

You shuffle past the sweaty bodies, the smell of smoke hanging in the air. Being here isn’t too far off from being home, given the smell. The only different thing is the noise. There’s an uncomfortable stillness in your house that’s present all the time.

Sheva spots you at the opposite end of the bar from where she’s at. She makes eye contact with you and stops talking to the customer she’s standing in front of, much to his dismay.

“What?!” she says, raising her hands in a faux defensiveness, “I’ll be here all night. Don’t get all clingy on me.”

She turns and grabs a glass, pouring your first drink for the night. She slides it down the countertop to you, mouthing the words “help me” and gesturing to her overbearing customer.

You take the glass and shrug, shooting her a smirk before taking a sip. Looks like you’re on your own until this schmuck decides to leave. 

-

It takes another three rounds for this guy to leave. And thank the Maker he did because he was occupying all of Sheva’s time. She finally makes her way to you, sighing and slumping against the bar. 

“New boyfriend?” you tease.

“Don’t start.”

“Where’s he from?”

“Tatooine. Don’t know what he’s doing here but to each their own.”

“Wow. Left one shit-hole and came to another one.”

“What a sad life.”

“Hey now. He traveled all this way to see you! Don’t be rude.”

She groans again while you erupt into a fit of laughter. 

“Hey, sweetheart! I need another round of Spotchka,” a man three seats down from you calls out.

“Duty calls,” she says, standing up straight and putting on her best customer service smile.

“Sweetheart? Is that the best you can do?” she pretend-jokes, grabbing a glass for him.

You nurse the rest of your drink, getting ready to wind down for the evening. It’s a shame you didn’t get to see much of her tonight but it’s the weekend. At least you got to spend time with Sulee, even if it was brief. 

Just when you’re setting your credits down on the bar, you sense a presence beside you. You turn your head and startle a bit. It’s a Mandalorian. You’ve only seen less than a handful of them in your lifetime. His helmet is silver but the rest of his armor doesn’t match. Instead, every piece of armor is a different earth tone, peppered with scratches from cycles of wear and tear. His gloved hands rest on his belt and his cape is black, also showing signs of wear. 

“...Can I help you?” you ask, starting to feel the revnog. Your face feels hot as you talk to him. There’s something attractive about him even though you can’t see his face. 

“I’m just passing through town and I’m wondering where’s the best place to purchase a part for my rifle.”

You don’t care if you’re slightly drunk. You’re not going to miss an opportunity to make a sale.

“What are you looking for? I might be able to help.”

You half expect him to chastise you, a woman offering to help a big scary man with his rifle. But he doesn’t.

“I’m looking for a scope for my Amban Rifle.”

“I’ve got plenty of those,” you say, standing up from your stool, “Follow me.”

You lead him out of the cantina, stumbling a bit as you walk. His hand rests on the small of your back and butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

“You alright?” he asks behind you.

“Mhm,” you call out, taking a deep breath of the cool nighttime air as you step out onto the street. 

Silently, you walk side by side to your house. But deep down you’re excited at the prospect of a sale and potentially a new recurring customer. Until you remember he’s not from around here. 

He follows you inside and your nose is still met with the smell of gas. You hope that he doesn’t smell it. Maybe he can’t with his helmet. 

“How much are you charging for it?” he asks. 

There’s that hurdle. The price. 

You hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. It’s your first scope sale. 

“Twenty credits?”

“...That’s it?”

Kriff, that was probably too low. But you can’t go back on your price now. 

“...Yup,” you say, closing the door.

“I’ll take it.”

“Great. Can I see the rifle?”

He pulls it off of his back and hands it to you. You take it in your hands and look at the scope he has attached to it currently, checking for the size he needs. The glass of the lens is cracked.

“How’d you manage this?”

“Broke it during a scuffle.”

You look up from the rifle and raise your eyebrow, silently wanting more information. He gives it to you.

“Bounty gave me a hard time.”

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“Mhm.”

You return your gaze to the rifle, running your fingers down the barrel. It’s… filthy. 

“When’s the last time you cleaned this?”

“Uhh.”

“Don’t worry. I got it.”

You turn towards your cabinet behind you and open the door, searching for oil and a pad. Meticulously, you clean his rifle, starting at the barrel and working your way down. There’s an uncomfortable silence looming over you two as he just watches you clean his rifle. You notice he’s shifting between both feet, almost like he’s nervous. His hands clench and unclench at his sides and that’s when you spot what’s making him fidget so much; the bulge in his flight suit. 

This man is getting hard watching you clean his rifle. Maker, you’re going to have fun with this. 

Once you’re done you set it on your table, getting ready to search for the right size scope. Turning and bending over a box in the corner of your front room, you rifle through the jumbled mess. Bending over while wearing a dress was intentional but not being able to find the scope was not. And now you fear that you look like an idiot, an idiot who’s barely cut out to run her own business. 

“Do you need help?” he deadpans.

“Uhh…”

You hear him walk closer towards you just as you’re trying to lift the box from the floor. And before you know it his crotch collides with your ass. You stifle a giggle and he sighs. Kriff, that was inappropriate and you normally wouldn’t laugh. But in your drunken stupor, you thought it was funny. 

“Do you have it or not?”

“What if I don’t?”

He lets out another exasperated sigh. 

“Are you just gonna let this little trip go fruitless?” you press, wondering if he’ll catch your drift. 

“No,” he practically growls, his hand cupping your ass, “I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’re not taking anything if I’m willingly giving it to you,” you chuckle, backing into him further. 

He grabs you by your hips, dragging you over to the table where you do your work. He shoves the rifle aside and you hop up on the table, lying back and hiking up your skirt, spreading your legs for him. 

“So eager,” he teases but in a way that actually feels mean. It doesn’t hurt, though. 

Instead, you shoot back, “Says the one who got hard watching me clean his rifle.” He huffs as his hand palms your inner thigh and you press further, “What’s the matter, Mando? Got all hot and bothered watching a woman handle your blaster?” 

He leans forward, bringing his helmet above your face. You stare into the visor, lips curled into a smirk. 

“Shut up,” he says, most likely through gritted teeth. 

“Or else what?” you counter. 

“Or I’ll make you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

He jerks his groin into you, bulge pressing against your underwear-clad cunt. You sit up and sigh, doing the work for him and tugging off your underwear. You toss it on the floor and lie back down, telling him, “If you’re going to have your way with me then just do it already.” 

You spit in your hand and reach between your legs, getting yourself nice and slick for him. He pulls his cock out of his flight suit and you can’t help but want a look. You prop yourself up on your elbows, inching upright to sneak a peek. It’s as big as you thought but that was a given considering the saunter in his step. But it’s also thick and uncut. Seeing the head of his cock makes you wonder if the shade matches his lips. It doesn’t matter, though. Something about not seeing his face makes this even hotter. 

He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it a few times, spreading the pre-cum that’s built up at the tip down his shaft. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you into him, thrusting his cock inside you. 

Your breath hitches at the sudden girth inside you, his cock buried down to the hilt. 

“You can take it,” he says.

“I-I know,” you breathe out, still getting adjusted to his size. You’re not about to let him get a rise out of you, even now when he’s balls deep in you. 

His hands move to your waist, holding you steady as he draws his hips back and thrusts into you again. With each one you get more accustomed to him, your pleasure builds and core muscles grow tense. But he’s determined to make a mess of you. He brings his hand by your cunt, thumb rubbing your clit as he pounds into you. 

Your moans grow higher in pitch and your front room is filled with the lewd, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you. With the noise you remember that you opened all the windows before you left for the cantina tonight, meaning that anyone walking by can hear Mando railing you. 

Your back arches and your orgasm spills over the edge. Stars dance in your vision as he fucks you through your release, thumb still rubbing your clit. 

“That’s it. Cum on my cock,” he says, keeping the same pace. 

You’re too blissed out to come up with a witty response. Your walls clench his cock and the sensation triggers his own orgasm. His cum spills inside you and you panic for a second at the accidental creampie until you remember you have an implant. It’s just finally useful for once. 

He pulls out of you when he’s done coming and you sit upright on the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.

He puts his cock back in his flight suit and after a beat of silence you say, “You still want the scope, right?”

“I do.”

You slide off the table and smooth down your skirt, walking over to the box of parts and crouching down. You find the scope and stand up, holding it out in front of you. 

“Told you I had it.”

He sighs again as you attach it to his rifle. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing a handful of credits, and placing them in your hand. 

“Here’s twenty-five credits. Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Mando,” you say, handing off the rifle. 

He nods with a tip of his helmet and gets ready to leave, walking to the door and giving you a final look before disappearing into the night. 

That was… hot. And certainly not how your business transactions normally go. It’s a shame he’s not from around here, though. 

You close your windows, deciding that you gave your neighbors enough of a show tonight, and head to bed. You’re not one for one-night stands, but for an experience like that… you’d make an exception any day of the week. 

End note: Today’s the one year anniversary of my first fic! Thank you to @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @clawdee for letting me talk out this series this y’all + being my beta readers 🤍🤍

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @freelancearsonist @djarins-cyare @survivingandenduring @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @chiyo13 @pedrostories @schnarfer @burntheedges

#stonecatcher #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original female character #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x reader

[raplinesmoon]

Turn Back Time (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

warnings: bodyswap au (kind of), alternating pov, teenage insecurities, bullying, Seokjin is confused, mention of sports injury, thirst, mentions of hangover, sassy thirteen year olds, mentioned infidelity (not between main characters), cheating (like in sports), swearing, angsty confessions, smut warnings: nudity, Seokjin pops a semi at the wrong time, soft!dom Jin, making out, heavy petting, dry humping, nipple play, unprotected s*x (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 13.3k a/n: a very happy early 30th bday to our WWH! This is my submission for the Catch of The Century collab hosted by myself, @joheunsaram, and @kithtaehyung! I was super excited writing the role reversal with Seokjin, and 13 Going On 30 is only one of my favorite movies ever (seriously, it never misses on every single rewatch). I also just miss Jin so much T_T I hope you all enjoy 💜 also ty to Mars for beta-reading this as well!

listen to the playlist here!

The envelope crinkles as it’s handed to Seokjin, and his heart drops before he can even pause his iPod and yank his earbuds out, the Black Eyed Peas providing the soundtrack to his humiliation. 

Sighing, he looks at his face twisted mid-expression, half-smile and half-grimace, the metal of his braces glinting against the camera flash, and wonders why the photographer had even bothered counting down if he wasn’t going to wait for him to smile for the photo anyway. Not to mention the packet had been inappropriately labeled “Suckjin”. His eomma would be so disappointed. Looking around, he pushes his glasses up onto his nose before shoving the damn thing into his backpack, where it hopefully wouldn’t see the light of day for a few more hours.

“Kim!”

Seokjin bites back a groan at the voice bellowing in the hallway, turning to see Jackson Wang and his posse of baseball boys strolling up to him. He and Jackson weren’t friends, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, but it wasn’t like they hated each other either. They had a mutual agreement - Seokjin would offer to do Jackson’s algebra homework for the semester, and Jackson promised him a try-out spot for the school’s baseball team.

To Seokjin, it was worth it. The baseball team was at the height of status in their janky middle school - everyone knew the players on the team were the coolest, sporting the finest threads walking through the hallways, and tipping their caps to make the girls scream. But it was more than that - for as long as he could remember, Seokjin had always been the lame kid. The one that faded into the background, hiding his acne-laden face under his mop of dark hair, constantly fiddling with his glasses. He hated that.

For once, he wanted to be the special one. The one who hit the winning home run at the game, the one who made all his fellow students and teachers scream with joy, who brought the school to victory. Then no one would ever forget him again. And now, with a try-out spot on the horizon, he finally got his chance.

“Did you hear about that new chick that moved here?” Jackson’s laugh interrupts Seokjin’s stream of intrusive thoughts, and he shoves his iPod into his book. “She’s supposed to be hot stuff.”

“Dude, you should totally hit her up,” DK, one of Jackson’s cronies, eggs him on with a guffaw. Jackson waves him away with an annoyed look, telling them he needs to talk to Seokjin for a second.

His tall, muscular figure looms over Seokjin’s scrawny one, the hard surface of the locker meeting his back.

“Sooo, I know try-outs were supposed to be tonight,” Jackson drawls, looking Seokjin over. “Big day, right?”

He’s unable to respond with anything but a gulp, knowing something was up. It always was with Jackson.

“Well, stupid Mr. Kang decided that we’d have a take-home assignment, and it’s due at the end of the week. I hate to cancel tryouts, I know how much you were looking forward to them, but we’ve gotta bust our asses for this, you know how it is.”

“I-, I could do the assignment for you,” Seokjin blurts out, finally summoning the bravery to speak. This was his once chance. He couldn’t screw it up now. 

“Excellent,” Jackson’s eyes glint with mischief, his head turning to regard Seokjin with interest. He claps him on the back, the force of his palm causing Seokjin to sputter, before walking away with a wink.

“See ya later, Kim!”

The bell rings, and Seokjin immediately makes a beeline for the bathroom, changing out of the argyle patterned vest that his mother had put him in for picture day, and into his well-loved, too-large pair of Nike gym shorts that he’d found for $3 at Goodwill. Looking in the dusty mirror, he checks himself out, making sure he looked the exact part of a baseball player. His unruly hair sticks up everywhere. Sighing in frustration, Seokjin lets the water under the sink run, wetting his hands and combing it back until it lays off his face.

Great, now he looked like he hadn’t taken a shower in a week.

“Baseball try-outs?” a voice next to him squeaks, and he turns to see another kid right next to him, shorter by an inch or two, his heart-shaped smile looking up at him.

“You too?” he asks the kid, who erupts into giggles, his laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Nahhhh, it’s the dance team for me, I’m Hobi by the way,” he reaches out his hand for Seokjin to shake. Seokjin takes the hand with hesitation. Hobi seemed nice, if not a little weird. He reminded Seokjin of himself.

“Dance team? Isn’t that kind of lame though?”

“What do you mean?” Hobi asks him with curious eyes. “It’s not any more lame than following around Jackson Wang and his posse of meatheads. It’s more original.” 

Hobi straightens up when he sees the clock, the time hitting both of them.

“Oop! I gotta go, I’ll see you later dude! Good luck with try-outs!” he waves Seokjin goodbye, rushing out the door.

Hobi’s words about being original weigh heavily on Seokjin, and he wonders if doing all this would be worth it in the end. After a few minutes of contemplation, Seokjin decides it is. He doesn’t want to be original, he thinks, he just wants to be cool. 

“Seokjinnie! Show Eomma the pictures,” his mom pinches his cheeks, one hand on the steering wheel. Seokjin scowls, wishing she’d hurry up. They were going to be late for tryouts. 

“Eomma, can you please just give it a break?” he grumbles, but she reaches into his bag anyway, peeking at the envelope with the preview.

“Oh, you look sooo handsome my boy!” she coos, beaming at the photo of him with his braces showing. Was she for real?

“Eomma, stop calling me that! I hate my life,” he whines, slumping into his seat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his most treasured baseball card, Albert Pujols staring him back in the face. Why couldn’t he be more like his hero? Not the awkward, bumbling thirteen-year-old Seokjin that he was, but an all-star.

“I wish I was thirty,” he sighs, and he watches his Eomma purse her lips.

“Seokjinnie,” she says as she pulls into the parking lot of the baseball field. “Eomma loves you very much, you know that, right? Whether you’re thirteen or thirty.”

She presses a wet kiss to his cheek, her lipstick leaving a faint pink smudge on him.

“Eomma ewwww!” he groans but hugs her anyway with a smile. He knew he’d come home to a warm bowl full of kimchi jjigae tonight.

“Good luck!!” her voice fades off into the distance as Seokjin descends into the dugout where the locker rooms were, ready to give this his best shot.

.  . . 

The sun trickles through the small windows of the dugout, the grey specks of dust flitting through the air. It’s empty. Seokjin walks through, realizing there’s no one there. Did he come at the wrong time?

Pacing around the room, he looks for something, anything that would indicate the team had been here, a spare bat, or maybe a jersey somewhere. But his heart sinks when he realizes there was nothing. He’d been such a fool.

“Ohhhh Kimmmm,” a voice says from the shadows, and Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Turning around, he sees Jackson’s figure looming at the door, a devious smirk lighting up his face.

“Jackson, what’s going on, where’s everybody—” Seokjin begins, only to be cut off by Jackson howling in laughter.

“Poor guy,” he mutters, stalking towards Seokjin with a menacing gleam in his eyes. “Did you really think those tryouts were real? That we’d let a lame-o like you on the team? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

Seokjin feels like he’s being eaten alive on the inside, shame and humiliation coming over him in waves, his head slumping forward to stare at the ground while Jackson’s words ring loud and clear in the back of his mind.

“I don’t get it, I did the report for you, you said I–, I’d have a chance this year,” he stutters, Jackson backing him up against the lockers. 

Jackson picks up a dusty baseball mitt off the ground, shoving it into Seokjin’s hands before pushing him into the locker, the door slamming shut and caging him in darkness.

“You never stood a chance, Kim. You’re just not cool enough.”

. . . 

Seokjin doesn’t know how long he bangs against the door of the locker, knuckles raw and bleeding from being cut by the metal. His voice has gone hoarse from screaming for help, knowing that he’s out of luck for a few hours.

He hated everyone - Jackson, the team, all his classmates at school who made him feel like he was worth nothing. He couldn’t wait to grow up, to get out of here, and to finally be somebody he was proud of.

Bile rises up in his throat as he looks at the dilapidated baseball mitt in his hands. He wants to fling it off into oblivion, its presence only reminding him of how silly he’d been to believe that things would be different. 

Still, it was all he had, and so he clutched it to his chest, blowing off the dust, rocking back and forth in order to comfort himself as the sun began to set outside.

“I just wanna be thirty,” he whispers into the darkness before his eyes shut and he finally falls asleep.

Seokjin snorts in the middle of his slumber, shifting around to make himself more comfortable, when all of a sudden, he feels himself land on a hard surface with a thud. Cursing, he rubs his shoulder, standing up but tripping on the edge of something soft. 

His eyes open sleepily, but it’s still dark. Grumbling, he palms at his face, eventually finding the edge of something covering his eyes. A blindfold? How had that gotten there? Lifting it off, light floods his vision, and his heart stops.

The room around him was very unfamiliar - he catches sight of the rug he’d tripped on moments ago, his eyes traveling up to the sleek bed made out of dark wood with its rumpled sheets. This wasn’t his room. Where were all the baseball posters? And his GameCube in the corner? And his desk with his iMac?

There was only one answer for this - he’d been kidnapped. Panicking, Seokjin fumbles with the doorknob, stumbling into the hallway of the apartment, his eyes widening and heart racing at the even more unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Eomma?” he calls out, padding down the hallway and taking in the sparse decorations. “Appa?”

He pauses when he sees a poster on the wall, a scantily clad woman in what can only be described as a provocative pose, and his cheeks flush with heat. He turns his eyes away quickly, feeling like he’s violating someone’s privacy.

The living room is even more strange, full of black furniture and far neater than Seokjin’s room had ever been. His eyes widen at the large flat-screen TV that sits in the corner, and he lets out a soft *wow* at the thought of being able to watch baseball games on there. 

He turns to look around more, only to come face-to-face with a mirror. But the person staring back at him isn’t Seokjin. This person was not a thirteen-year-old with acne, a mouth full of braces, and dorky wire-rimmed glasses. He looked like one of those models on magazine covers, with hair pushed back from his face, skin clearer than the water at the beach, and a jawline that could cut glass.

He screams at the unfamiliar face, thinking there’s an intruder in the house with him. He staggers backward, tripping on the raised entrance to the living room, and falling flat on his back. Pain explodes across the back of his head, and he wants to cry.

From elsewhere in the apartment, he hears a door click, and he peers over at the mirror again. He freezes when he realizes there is no other intruder. The figure in the mirror moves the same way he does, copying his exact movement, and Seokjin brings a hand to his face, seeing it rest on the jawline of the attractive reflection.

That was him. He was the man. Was this some kind of dream? Or an alternate reality? He tests the waters, feeling around his face, tugging at the skin to see if it was some sort of costume. His hands fly to his chest, realizing that he’s shirtless, and he’s amazed by the muscles he finds underneath his palms.

“What is happening?” he hyperventilates, shocked at the deep voice that comes out, so unlike his own. “What is going on?”

His anxiety increases as he begins to pace around the apartment, coaxing himself to breathe and relax and take a seat. He’d find a way out of this.

Plopping onto the leather sofa, something on the coffee table catches his eye. It’s a letter, and he pales when he sees the name on the envelope. 

It’s his. Kim Seokjin. But that’s not his address. Frantically, he sifts through the mail, growing even paler when he sees all the letters are addressed to him, and that they’re being sent to this same address. He lived here.

The sofa creaks as he rises up abruptly, searching anywhere he can for a phone. Finding it in the corner, he dials his parents’ number, silently praying they hadn’t changed it. His Appa’s voice greets him on the phone, saying that they were currently away in Korea, but they’d be back at the end of this month, and he lets out a heavy sigh. He was alone.

Seokjin thinks this is the weirdest dream he’s ever been in, but he’s interrupted by the sound of the sink turning on in what he can only assume is the bathroom in this place. 

“Seokjin, babe?” a female voice calls out from behind the door, and he jumps back, terror seizing him. This must be the strange woman who kidnapped him! She was probably some kind of weirdo, why was she calling him babe?

Seokjin searches for something, anything he can use to protect himself, settling on an umbrella in the corner. 

“I-, I know you’re there,” his voice wobbles as he yells out to the woman. “My parents are gonna be home soon!”

The door creaks open and out steps a woman. The first thing Seokjin can think of is legs. So much leg, peeking out at him from underneath a fluffy white towel. And then he screams again. Because she’s naked under there. 

“Babe, where’s the conditioner?” she asks him, crossing her arms. Her chest is emphasized by this action, and Seokjin looks up at the ceiling. This was inappropriate. He had to get out of here now!

“Come join me!” her voice fades into the background as he runs, grabbing the first coat and the first pair of shoes he sees in the entryway. The stairs of the unfamiliar building wind around him as he descends, his head spinning, and before he knows it, he’s through a golden set of doors and out onto a busy city street.

A strange buzzing comes from his pocket and Seokjin yelps. Was he being attacked? Had the government bugged him?

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you hear that?” he says frantically, pointing to his pocket. “Do you hear the buzzing?”

The woman passes him by without a second glance. 

“Kim!” a voice calls out to him. “Get your ass over here!”

Seokjin turns to the sound of the voice and stops in his tracks when he sees the person calling out to him. 

It’s Jackson Wang, all suited up for practice. But he’s not the Jackson Seokjin remembers, his tall looming figure from their middle school only growing more intimidating with the amount of Jackson has built over the years. The man chatters away on the phone angrily, gesturing for Seokjin to get in the car. What kind of world had he found himself in?

“I-, I don’t get in the car with strangers,” Seokjin says confidently, turning away from Jackson’s grabby hands. The man scoffs.

“Can you please just get in bro? We don’t have time for this, we’re gonna be late.”

“BAAABEEE?” Seokjin hears the voice from the apartment again, looking up to see the woman from the apartment calling down to him, now wearing a bra. She blows him kisses and giggles. He definitely did not want to be stuck with her. 

His head feels like it’s gonna explode, caught between two horrifying situations. But right now even though it was Jackson, the dude in front of him seemed less weird, and so, he falls over into the seat of the car, the door slamming shut behind him.

During the car ride, Seokjin peers through the windows of the car, taking in the bright lights and busy streets of the city around him. He’s in awe. He never imagined being somewhere like this before. 

“Dude, I know I’m your best friend, but you’re acting a little weird, even for me,” Jackson says next to him, and Seokjin straightens up, looking over at him. His best friend? Maybe he had all the answers to what was going on.

“We’re really best friends?” he asks, and the man snickers in response. “Something really weird is happening to me.”

“Oh god,” Jackson groans. “Did you finally get a girl pregnant?”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold. Pregnant? He hadn’t even kissed a girl yet, how could he get someone pregnant?

“NO!” Seokjin blurts out. “No, no, no, it’s even weirder! I slept in an apartment I’ve never seen before, and there was a naked girl in my bathroom and I almost saw her boobs!”

He finishes with an exhale, but the car comes to a screeching halt at the exact same time, the other man not even saying a word before he gets out.

“W-wait,” Seokjin runs after him. “Please don’t leave me here, just listen to me, I’m thirteen years old–”

“If you’re gonna start lying about your age, Kim, I’d make sure it was something legal at least,” Jackson smirks, walking ahead of him on the street.

“I know it sounds weird, but strange things are happening to me, like, like that!!”

The buzzing in Seokjin’s pocket starts again, and he freaks out, spinning in a circle as he tries to locate the source. 

“Would you stop it?” Jackson pulls something out of Seokjin’s pocket. It’s a shiny, flat, metallic object that continues to buzz in his hands. “It’s probably just Coach.”

“C-coach? Who Coach? What Coach?” He feels like his head is about to explode. 

The phone is held to Seokjin’s ear.

“HEY BAABEEE!” A voice drawls on the other end, and Seokjin screams, throwing the phone to his companion.

“Get her away from me!” he yelps.

“Okay, listen to me!” Jackson roars, stopping Seokjin in his tracks. “You need to calm down. We have a team meeting in ten minutes. I’m going to tell you what to do, you just need to repeat after me.”

“Ok,” Seokjin says, taking a deep breath.

“I am Kim Seokjin, star batsman for the Eagles. I am a tough bastard, and I’m gonna walk into the stadium and not let anyone know I’m hungover.”

“I’m–” Seokjin prepares to repeat the words, but stops when he hears the rest of them. “I AM?”

But Jackson is already gone, disappearing behind the double doors that lead to a stadium Seokjin never thought he’d find himself going into. The Eagles. His dream team.

Seokjin follows Jackson through the stadium, oohing and ahhing at all the different banners and pieces of sports memorabilia that are on display. This has to be the wildest field trip he’s ever been on.

The man next to him scoffs.

“It’s not like you come here every day,” he chuckles, sarcasm seeping into his voice.

“I DO?” Seokjin can’t believe his ears. 

The two of them walk through, scores of people greeting Seokjin and wishing him a good morning. He doesn’t know any of them, their faces all unfamiliar. But they knew him. They knew him and they loved him. He was a star.

“There he is, our star batsman!!” a voice bellows, and Seokjin is attacked by a man throwing him into the biggest bear hug.

“Coach,” Jackson whispers.

“Coach!” Seokjin repeats with a squeak, feeling the wind get knocked out of him. “You’re my coach!”

“That’s right kiddo, who’s your daddy?” the man chortles, and Seokjin responds with eagerness.

“His name is Kim— ow!” He’s cut off by a sharp jab to his chest. 

He follows the two men into the dugout, surprised to see a room full of men wearing Eagles jerseys. The team. This was the team. He was on their team!

Seokjin buzzes with excitement, waving hello to all the players with a bounce in his step. They all look at him with concern etched in their features, and the guy he came with urges him to sit down in a cubby. The shiny letters of “4 Kim” greet him, etched on the plaque that adorns the space, and a weird feeling of pride bubbles in his chest. He’d made it.

“Team,” Coach clears his throat, and a hush falls over the room, the commotion dying down. “We need to get it together. The Hawks have consistently outplayed us in every game of the season this year, and they’ve been using our own plays against us. We need to move fast, beat them at their own game, hit them when they least expect it, especially if we have any chance of making it to the playoffs this year! Don’t you agree, Kim?”

It takes a second for Seokjin to realize the man is referring to him, and he sits up straight, anxiety kicking in because he hadn’t prepared a response to his impassioned speech.

He raises his hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

The team erupts into laughter, howls echoing off the walls of the dugout, before Coach blows his whistle, silencing them all at once.

“Get out there on the field boys, we don’t have time to mess around,” and Seokjin rises up, ready to throw the ball around for a bit, happy for the familiarity of baseball to make him feel grounded when it seemed like everything about his life was upside down.

“Not you, Kim,” Coach holds out a hand to stop him. “You’re injured, remember? Your physical therapy with the doctor is in five minutes. Don’t be late.” And with a nod, he leaves.

Seokjin was even more confused. Injured? But he didn’t remember getting into an accident of any kind. 

He hoped whoever this doctor was, they could help give him some answers.

The clacking of heels signals your arrival moments later, Seokjin lifting his head up to asses the new entry to the dugout. When his eyes fall on you, he sucks in a sharp breath.

Wow. You had to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, pencil skirt hugging your figure perfectly, hips tapering out to an ass that he knew Irene Bae couldn’t have accomplished no matter how much she stuffed her cheerleading uniform with toilet paper. His eyes travel upwards, falling on your chest, and immediately he blushes, reminded of the woman in the apartment this morning. Your boobs are covered by a silky top, the fabric doing nothing to hide their shape, and Seokjin gulps. They look way nicer than hers, anyway. He wants to rest his face on them like a pillow.

Maybe he should ask you out on a date first, though.

“Hi Jin!” your soft voice greets him happily, a dazzling smile taking over your features, and Seokjin feels his heart speed up. He hadn’t felt this dizzy since he saw a poster of Beyonce in a bikini when he was shopping at Target with his mom. “How are you doing today?”

“F-fine,” Seokjin stammers, unable to look you in the eyes when you take a seat next to him. He tries to find interest in the specks that line the floor, but your smell overwhelms him, the sweet floral scent attacking his nose. You looked nice, sounded nice, and you even smelled nice. Not to mention you were actually nice.

And he was supposed to be alone with you? For longer than five minutes? Seokjin thinks he’ll pass out if you get any closer to him.

“How’s the leg?” you ask him, leaning over until your face is right next to his. Seokjin forces himself to look away with a blush, grumbling about how it’s okay. He wasn’t sure whether his leg or his chest ached more right now with the way you were staring at him.

“Let me take a look!” you say cheerfully, dropping to your knees, and reaching out to grab his calf, and Seokjin thinks he might throw up with the way he can see down your shirt, the soft white lace of your bra doing things to his head. He’d never seen someone more beautiful in his life. And you were taking care of him.

The next twenty minutes are pure torture, Seokjin holding his breath as you poke and prod all over his leg, stretching it in and out with curious eyes. At some point, he feels his pants start to become tight and freaks when he looks down and sees the beginning of a boner in his sweats. 

He coughs loudly, causing you to jump in surprise dropping his leg, and he immediately finds the nearest mitt and puts it on his lap to hide his unfortunate surprise guest. You smile up at him, rising to your feet.

“Your leg is doing great,” you tell him. “It should be all healed up soon, just in time for the playoffs. And then you won’t need to see me anymore.”

“Wait,” Seokjin chokes. He just met you! He needed you to stick around. Maybe you knew something about him, about what was going on. “What do you mean, ar-are you gonna leave?”

You cock your head curiously at him, and Seokjin shrinks into his seat at your intense gaze. Was he being weird around you?

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly. “I’ll always be here when you need me, Jin.”

Seokjin’s heart pounds at your words, and he shyly rubs at the back of his neck.

“Thanks! See you again—” he blanks when he realizes he doesn’t know who you are.

“___,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows up at him, turning to leave. “Seokjin? Next time you come to physical therapy, try not to be hungover, okay?”

He watches you leave with a dazed smile on his face. ___. Meeting you had been the highlight of his day so far. Despite how strange everything had been, he knew he couldn’t wait to see you again.

Seokjin catches the ball with an oomph!, shocked at how fast these players could throw. It’d only been a day since he found himself in this new body, and he’d stumbled home confused after his session with you yesterday, eventually caving and trying desperately to hail a taxi to take him back to the apartment. He sobbed in relief when he saw the strange woman was nowhere to be found, slumping against the door and finally allowing himself to breathe for the first time all day. Tears tracked down his face as he thought of how often he’d wished for this, the life he’d wanted so desperately finally finding him in the end.

Even now, as he tosses the ball back and forth, he’s unable to believe it. Him, the star batsman for the team he’d idolized growing up? He wanted to call his Eomma and tell her, but paused when he realized she probably already knew. 

“Something on your mind?” Jackson says to him with a laugh, throwing a curveball, and Seokjin feels his palm burn from the force of catching it.

Seokjin surveys the man who was the last person he remembered before everything changed, and wonders how they ever became friends. He wants to ask, but something feels uneasy about it – like Jackson would judge him for it. He would probably think Seokjin was clinically insane if  he even tried to bring up how he fell asleep thirteen and woke up thirty one day.

He wishes there was someone he could talk to, someone who got it, and that’s when he sees you waving from across the field. You’re dressed more casually today, in slacks and a soft-looking sweater, and yet you still manage to be absolutely stunning.

Seokjin feels guilty for staring at you so much like he’s a stupid thirteen-year-old with a crush on his teacher, but he also genuinely enjoyed spending time with you yesterday. Despite your annoyance at his “hangover”, you hadn’t taken it out on him with words as the others had; you went about the session as normal and treated him with kindness the entire time through.

Seokjin waves goodbye to Jackson, sprinting in your direction. He misses the way Jackson’s eyes follow his back, trained on the way you greet him with a smile, the two of you heading back into the dugout.

“Soooo, you’re a doctor?” Seokjin can’t help himself from asking, immediately feeling stupid when he realizes that he’s meant to have known you for a while. He couldn’t help it - you felt like the only real thing he could latch onto in this world, his mind running a thousand miles a minute as he processed all the new changes that had occurred.

“Yup! I studied sports medicine in college, then went to med school,” you answer politely, your tone giving no indication that you found him weird at all.

“That’s cool, you must be super smart, 7th grade bio is hard enough for me,” Jin laments, immediately realizing his mistake with a soft gasp. “Was. It was hard for me, you know, back in seventh grade.”

“Are you sure you’re okay Seokjin?” you look up at him, eyes filled with concern.

Tears prick at Seokjin’s eyes, the earnest tone of your voice giving him the push he needed to be honest. No, he was not okay. He wasn’t okay, and he needed someone to talk to, and he thinks that you, of all people, might be able to understand. After all, your entire job involved empathy.

“Something really weird is happening,” he confesses, watching you listen carefully to his words. “I don’t know what’s been going on, but the last thing I remember, I was sitting in my closet, and it’s like I’m in a weird dream. I feel like I skipped half my life – I can’t remember the person I used to be, or what my life was like at all. It’s like I don’t even recognize myself.” 

“I think I need help,” he continues. “I need help remembering who I was before. You’ve known me for a little bit, right ___? Do you think you could help?”

Seokjin thought he was onto something, but his heart drops to his stomach when he looks up and he sees you, face pale and lip trembling like you’re about to cry.

“I–, I don’t know if I’m the best person to help you with that Seokjin, maybe you should ask Jackson,” you respond, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why?” he leans over to look into your eyes, shocked when they’re as misty as his own. “What happened, ___?”

Before he knows it, the vulnerable look in your eyes is gone, and you’re back to your normal, cheerful self.

“Hey,” you tell him. “Why don’t we pack it up for today? I’ll walk you back home to your apartment.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says, stomach still churning at the pained look you’d had moments before. “But can we get milkshakes?”

You smile at him, a look of fondness coming over you. You rise, beckoning him to follow you outside.

“I think we can manage that.”

The slurp of a straw interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see Seokjin, eyes wide with delight as he drinks up the last of his milkshake, the whipped cream forming a mustache on his top lip.

You’re puzzled. The Seokjin you’d known before would have never agreed to hang out with you, let alone talk to you for an extended period of time. For as long as you’d known him, even in college, he’d been too arrogant for his own good, obsessed with letting everyone know the world revolved around him and him only. The man sitting in front of you is completely different, transformed in a way that didn’t even seem real.

The Seokjin that sat with you now seemed infinitely more unsure of himself, shy and hesitant in the way that only a child would be. You wonder what could have changed so suddenly. Coach hadn’t given you any reports about him undergoing head trauma in addition to his leg injury. 

“Thank you for the milkshake,’’ Seokjin grins, wiping the cream off his lips, and you hate the way your heart skips a beat at that. You curse yourself for the moment of weakness, even after all this time. 

“We went to college together,” you blurt out, not knowing why you chose to reveal this piece of information, given that he likely already knew it. “Me, you, and Jackson.”

Seokjin’s mouth gapes open, a shocked gasp escaping his open mouth.

“Really?” he says leaning in closer to you. “Were we friends?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Had he really forgotten college? I mean it had been nearly a decade ago, and it wasn’t like life had drawn you back together until recently.

“Not really, you moved in a different crowd,” you chuckle. “Like not the nerdy, study in the library kind. More like the frat rager kind.”

“WHOAAAA,” Seokjin marvels in wonder, his voice filled with childlike glee. “That sounds awesome.”

“What if this isn’t just a dream? What if what I wished for actually happened?” he continues, softer this time, but you still pick up on it. 

Reaching a hand towards him, you pull away at the last moment, unsure why you were acting so wildly out of character with him. It was like the energy between you two had completely changed.

“Well, you got everything you ever wanted, then, might as well enjoy it,” you smile at him, heart fluttering when he gives you a sincere smile back, his cheeks puffing out with happiness.

“I have to run,” you get up abruptly, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “But I’ll see you at the gala tonight?”

“What gala?” he asks, eyes looking up at your curiously. Your stomach turns in disbelief. Did he actually not remember? Maybe his schedule was so busy he’d forgotten.

“The charity gala that I organized for the team tonight,” you tell him. “The one to raise money for medical care for athletes who’ve suffered a career-ending injury?”

“Oh! I’ll be there,” Seokjin says confidently, beaming at you. You give him a weak smile back, knowing you have to leave before you did something stupid and made the same mistake twice.

“Arrivederci, ___!” he waves, turning to walk in the other direction before he disappears around the corner.

“Au revoir,” you whisper back softly. 

Your life was completely different now, and there was no place for him in it.

Seokjin straightens his tie before stepping into his closet, perusing the many suit options he had. He wanted to pick his best outfit to impress you with tonight, but he was feeling overwhelmed with the size of the space, missing the days when his Eomma would drag him to Goodwill and they’d find the cheapest one that fit. 

He settles on a navy blue one, throwing the jacket over his shoulders, and pushing his hair up off his face, before taking a step back to look at himself in the mirror. 

Whoa. Seokjin still couldn’t get used to the way his body had changed, remembering the ugly duckling phase he’d been in the middle of before being transported here. He wonders if he was able to talk to a lot of girls now that he was more confident. Maybe he’d even had a past girlfriend that he didn’t know about. Maybe they’d even had sex.

Seokjin’s cheeks burn when he thinks about it, your face in the back of his mind. He imagines what it’d be like to kiss you, thinking about how soft your lips would feel. Why had the two of you never dated? Maybe because you worked together? Whatever it was, he hoped he could change your mind about it.

Stepping out of his apartment, he skips down the hallway to the elevator, giddy to be going to his first grown-up party. Well, not technically his first, but more like the first, he could remember. The elevator dings and Seokjin makes his way inside, a little boy his only other companion.

“Hi,” Seokjin says, but the boy just ignores him, looking at his phone. 

“I’m Seokjin,” he says, extending a hand that catches the boy’s attention.

“Jungwoo,” the boy says, looking hesitant as he accepts the handshake. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Seokjin says, feeling confused. “We’re neighbours, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo responds despondently. “But you usually ignore me most of the time.”

The way he says it makes Seokjin feel horrible inside. He would never purposefully ignore someone like that, not after knowing what it felt like as a kid. He wonders what the 30-year-old version of him had been like to warrant such a reaction.

“How old are you, Jungwoo?”

“I’m thirteen,” Jungwoo responds, and all of a sudden, the elevator comes to a stop, signaling their arrival at the ground floor. Jungwoo walks out without another word, Seokjin running after him.

“Wait!” he says sharply, watching Jungwoo turn to look at him in shock. “You should come over and hang out sometime, we can watch some baseball together.”

“Really?” Jungwoo says hopefully.

“Yeah,” Seokjin smiles, patting him on the back. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later!”

And Seokjin runs out the door, excited not only to have made a new friend but at the fact that it felt like this strange life of his was finally clicking into place.

The room spins around you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because the arm around you feels too tight tonight or because the music is boring as heck. You want nothing more than to sit down, knowing all the attention would be on you in a matter of moments, and the thought made you sick.

What made you even more nauseous was your partner’s maroon tux. Maroon. To match your navy blue. When you’d asked why he hadn’t worn the same color, his only response was: 

“Babe, this little thing isn’t that serious, right? It’s about the money.”

You excuse yourself, wanting to find some investors to talk to about how to contribute their generous wealth towards your aspiring fund, only to catch sight of Kim Seokjin in a corner, knocking back drinks with a giddy smile.

“____!” he waves you over happily when he sees you, taking your hand to pull you in close to him. “I can’t believe it’s 10:00 pm on a school night and I’m at a party, drinking pina coladas that aren’t virgin!”

Your jaw drops open when you see what he’s wearing. Navy blue - a smart-looking suit to match your gown perfectly, and you feel the back of your neck grow hot with thoughts you shouldn’t be having. 

“Glad to see you’re doing better now,” you giggle, and his smirk turns lopsided with glee at your kind words, its unintended effect being to cause butterflies to bubble in your chest.

“I’d be even better if they turned off this boring music,” he slurs contentedly, taking another drink from the server. “Why don’t they play some throwback tunes in here?”

“I’m not sure that fits with the sophisticated vibes needed to gain a corporate sponsorship for my cause, I’m afraid.”

“I’d donate money to you,” he says softly, his warm eyes twinkling from the numerous fairy lights as they meet yours. “Heck, I’d give you my entire paycheck.”

Setting the glass down, all signs of his previous tipsiness disappear as he regards you with a serious stare. You watch his cheeks flush, his gaze dropping to the low neckline as he sharply inhales, bringing his eyes back up to your face.

“Wanna go for a spin?”

You’re mesmerized by him, transfixed as you take his hand, the two of you retreating into a private corner of the ballroom, right by the open-air balcony. The cool breeze creates shivers down your spine as Seokjin pulls you close, his warm breath fanning against your face, and despite your best efforts to look past him and out onto the city lights, you find you can’t take your eyes off him.

It all feels too short, barely a minute of you swaying in Seokjin’s arms before the beat changes abruptly, Usher blasting through the speakers. You feel achingly empty when Seokjin’s hand leaves yours, but the smile returns to your face when a moment later, he begins head-banging and gyrating goofily to the new song.

“Now this is more like it,” he hollers, and you can’t help but join him the two of you twisting and turning until you’re laughing, out of breath and delirious with joy. 

The joy is cut short when another shadow looms over your meeting, pulling you into his arms.

“___, babe there you are! What are you and Kim doing hiding away in this corner?” Jackson pulls you into his side, and your stomach drops when you watch Seokjin’s eyes go wide with a mix of shock, and what you can only assume is pain.

“Sorry Kim, I know you get her for the PT during practice, but she’s mine for the PT after hours if you know what I mean,” Jackson grins, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Seokjin’s mouth remains agape, and you watch his eyes glimmer with realization as he pans to the thin band that adorns your left ring finger, finally noticing its presence for the first time.

A sharp squeal interrupts the tense moment between you, and you notice a woman in the tightest dress you’ve ever seen run over to Seokjin, nearly knocking him over as she wraps her arms around him. His entire body tenses up, and you want nothing more than to smooth over the hair that has fallen into his face.

“Baaabe, you’ve been ignoring me,” the woman whines, her nasal voice grating your ears. Of course. It’s Jennie Kim, model extraordinaire. Of course, she would be Seokjin’s date now – a match worthy of his striking looks and personality. 

“Who are they?” she says vapidly, taking in you and Jackson’s entwined figures.

“I, uh, these are, this is ___, and Jackson, coworkers, and friends from college,” he stutters, trying to unravel himself from her death grip. “And this is, uh, uhm…’

“Jennie Kim!” Jackson immediately lets you go to take her hand, shaking it furiously. “So nice to meet you!”

“Babe, we should get going,” Jennie tugs on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Don’t you remember we kind of had other plans for the night?”

“W-we did?” Seokjin stammers, and you decide you need to walk away, lightly tugging Jackson’s arm to follow you across the ballroom. Of course, he’d go home with her - she was beautiful, successful, and perfect. And you were just you.

“___,” you hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, yet you don’t want to hear anything he has to say. Jackson has left your side once again, going back to talk animatedly to Jennie, and you’re alone together once again.

“Should I go home with her? Jennie? Is it a good idea?” he asks, and you turn, meeting his gaze, which seems so earnest, so genuinely filled with concern for what you thought. Or at least that’s what your overthinking mind told you, kicking back into gear after eight years of wiping all thoughts of Seokjin from your memory.

“Yeah, you should,” you tell him honestly, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “She’s your girlfriend, after all.”

Seokjin yawns, Jungwoo’s animated voice yapping away in his ear as the two of them walk down to the lobby together. His night had gone later than he expected - too much of it spent lost in the city streets as he’d run out of Jennie’s apartment, not expecting her naked boobs to be in his face the moment they’d come in. Her hands had been all over him, ignoring his suggestions of quitting to watch a movie or maybe even play a game of Monopoly.

“Girls are sooo stupid,” Jungwoo sighs. “Why don’t the ones you like ever like you? Why do they give all these weird signals?”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin sighs, your face immediately coming to his mind, thinking about how you’d felt in his arms at the gala. Obviously, you’d looked beautiful, but underneath the dim lights, you shone in a way that he didn’t think was possible, one that made him feel very strange on the inside.

“Love is a battlefield, my friend,” Seokjin ruffles the kid’s hair before getting into his waiting taxi and waving goodbye. “Have fun with fractions! Remember, always divide by the number on the bottom!”

. . . 

Coach was furious. The team was failing, their chances of making the playoffs dismal, and he made that clear with how he ripped into them with the speech.

“You better shape up now, or this franchise as we know it will be over!”

“Maybe that’s what we need,” Seokjin blurts out, watching the entire team turn to him. “Maybe we need to get our asses handed to us. Maybe we need to actually experience loss to realize how much is at stake. Because winning is great and all, but don’t we learn more from our failures?”

The locker room is abuzz with chatter, Coach clapping Seokjin on the back. 

“I knew you wouldn’t let the hate get to you, kid,” he says, and Seokjin looks at him blankly, wondering what he could be referring to.

“ESPN?” Coach says. “That article they ran a few months ago about you being a slimy, unprofessional cheat just because you “injured” that player for the Cardinals? I knew it was all BS. I mean look at you, how could you hurt somebody when you’re injured yourself?”

Seokjin’s stomach sinks. He’d hurt another player? That was something he’d never dreamed of doing. He loved baseball, and everyone deserved to experience the joy of the sport, whether it was through winning or losing. That was what made a good player, not sabotaging others.

One by one, the players get ready for practice, Seokjin finally suiting up to go bat for the first time in a while. His sessions with you had tapered down as he recovered, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. The more and more he thought about the life he’d always wanted, one as a star baseball player, the more awful it seemed. Being a grown-up wasn’t as fun as he thought - people were liars, cheaters, and just plain old mean. But you weren’t like that.

The bat slams against the ball with a satisfying crack, soaring out towards the far end of the field, and Seokjin prepares to run. But two voices behind him make him stop in his tracks.

“Can’t believe Coach is trusting Kim and his new weird-ass stunt,” Jackson seethes. “Like he’s really gonna help rebrand the team? All he cares about is himself.”

“Yup, the prick was the entire reason our last shortstop got traded,” Jaehyun, one of the left fielders, hisses. “Can’t believe Kim had an affair with the guy’s wife.”

Seokjin drops the bat with a clank, the entire team turning to look at him. But he doesn’t care, storming off into the dugout. Was this really who he was? A bully and a cheater? Being thirty no longer seemed like a dream, it was steadily turning into a nightmare. 

Storming through the dugout, he finally finds the door to your office, sighing heavily as he raps against it.

You open it within seconds, shocked to see his dejected figure standing in front of you.

“Wanna go for a walk, ___?”

“I can’t believe you and Jackson are getting married,” Seokjin remarks as the two of you walk, bringing up the proverbial elephant he’d wanted to ask you about ever since the night of the gala.

“Only a couple of weeks now,” you respond, wrapping your arms around you to fight off the chill, and Seokjin wishes he’d brought a jacket to keep you warm.

“Are you guys soulmates?” he asks, genuinely curious to know the answer. ‘Do you get butterflies when you’re around him?”

He knows that his question is loaded, that underneath it hides the depth of the feelings he’s managed to keep concealed for all this time, but he asks anyway, knowing the answer may hurt him.

“Nahh, I don’t really believe in that anymore. The last time I was crazy like that for a guy was in college,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why weren’t we ever friends back then?” he asks you again, feeling you come to a stop next to him, your heavy sigh permeating the tense air between you.

“Listen,” you tell him, and your voice sounds thick with what he thinks are tears, “Can we just please forget about it? It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Seokjin knows he may not have any reason to apologize but he still wants to anyway. It seemed like he’d left a trail of destruction behind him wherever you went.

“Seokjin, no, please, you don’t have to apologize,” you grab his hand and give him a weak smile, trying vainly to reassure him, but his rapidly racing thoughts get in the way.

“I want to though,” he says back, his own voice cracking. “I mean, do you even know the kind of person I am, ___? I don’t have friends, I just use people, I slept with a teammate's wife, and I never talk to my parents. I’m not a nice person. And the thing is, I’m not thirteen anymore. I need to stop living in the past.”

And with that, he lets you go, ignoring your cries of protest as he runs away, his mistakes following him until he gets home. Closing the door behind him, he slumps to the floor, sobbing while he dials his parents' number.

It was time for him to make things right.

Seokjin stares down at the facade of the house he’d grown up with, the chipped paint and wide windows instantly soothing his heart. The train ride over had been brutal, his empty eyes watching the scenery drift by aimlessly, ignoring the giggles of the group of teenagers that sat next to him.

He wished he could tell them to stay happy and young forever, to continue living without a care in the world. Being a grown-up wasn’t worth it. Instead of bringing him the happiness and the belonging he’d craved, it only made him feel more alone, more empty inside than he’d ever felt as an awkward teen.

Stepping onto the porch, he reaches under the doormat, relieved to see his parents left a spare key there. It was like they’d been waiting for him to come home this entire time.

As he walks through the door, a chilling realization sets in. The house was empty. His parents weren’t here, they were probably in Korea. And all at once, Seokjin’s hope for coming back came crashing down.

Stepping out of his shoes, he leaves them at the door, sprinting up the stairs to his room. The door creaks open, and Seokjin lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

The bed is gone, replaced with a treadmill. The walls had been repainted, the floors redone. The lone thing that remained of his was the desk in the corner, all his belongings still on it. It serves only to remind him that his parents had always waited for him to come home, but eventually, they too must have grown tired of him.

A sob escapes him, and he realized he’d disappeared completely from their lives, not even bothering to keep up with the only people who’d loved him unconditionally his entire life. All of a sudden he feels nauseous, his stomach turning as he realized the fate the threads of time had woven him - a life of loneliness. One where he spent so much time garnering attention, only to be a forgotten soul anyway.

He rushes into the basement, the garish yellow walls exactly as they’d been seventeen years ago, and locks himself in the utility closet. Tears stain his face as he hiccups, slamming his head back against the wall.

“I wish I was thirteen again, I wish I was thirteen again.” But his pleading words fail to work this time around.

He doesn’t know how long he remains crumpled up in the closet, but he doesn’t hear the front door open. He doesn’t hear his parents pad down the basement stairs, umbrellas in hand until the closet door opens, light seeps in, and he’s met with their concerned faces.

Seokjin leaps to his feet, throwing his arms around them.

“Eomma, Appa, I missed you. I missed you both so much.”

.  . .

The rain patters against the window, and Seokjin turns over on the couch, watching it gently fall. After a bowl of his Eomma’s kimchi jjigae, he’d felt the most like himself he had in a long time, the two of them fretting over how thin he’d gotten. 

But now, alone in the living room, Seokjin felt like an intruder again. His parents were more used to living without him than with him.

Suddenly, his throat feels dry, the number of tears he’d shed today leaving him parched. He gets up, padding over to the kitchen, keeping his footsteps soft so he doesn’t disturb his parents. Flicking the light on, he walks over to the fridge, opening it to get the water jug out.

“Seokjinnie?” his Eomma’s soft voice comes from behind him. “What are you doing awake at this time?”

Seokjin should have known better than to get up in the middle of the night. His Eomma’s sixth sense had always been knowing when her child needed something. Within five minutes, she’s boiling some frozen dumplings and chopping up vegetables to make him food. 

He’s grateful for her attention, but his stomach churns with nausea. She may be the only other person he can talk to about this. Other than you.

“Eomma,” he interrupts her quiet concentration, and she looks over at him from the stove, her eyebrows etched with concern. “If you were given a chance, do you ever wish you could go back? Like to a different time?”

“I’d love to go back and take care of some of these wrinkles,” she chuckles, and Seokjin smiles along with her. Her face hasn’t changed at all since he was thirteen, still as youthful as ever.

“Yeah, but if you were given a do-over, let’s say, what would you change? Like if you made a big mistake,” Seokjin asks, wondering if having regrets was just part of growing older and whether there was still hope.

“Well, I don’t regret making any mistakes in my life, because if I hadn’t made them, I wouldn’t have known how to make them right,” she responds, a knowing twinkle in her eye when she sees Seokjin staring down at the food, failing to meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come home in a while,” he says, his voice heavy with regret. His Eomma reaches across the table, taking his hand in her smaller one, and squeezing it gently.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“This doesn’t make sense, I’m not even good at baseball,” you tell Seokjin. “Why do you want to practice with me?”

Seokjin looks at you, strolling through the park with him in a cosy-looking hoodie and jeans. While your outfit may not have been ideal for baseball practice, the way he looked at you still sent your heart aflutter, and you wondered what it’d be like to wear one of his oversized sweatshirts.

“That’s exactly the point, ____, I’ve gotten too comfortable practicing with the team. I know their every move, but we need to step it up for the playoffs. That’s why I need someone different. Someone who can keep me on my toes. Someone like you.”

You cover your face with your hands shyly, palms out towards him, and that’s when he decides to launch a curveball. 

“OW!” you yelp. “Hey, I wasn’t ready for that!”

“Like I said,” Seokjin smirks. “I need you to keep me on my toes. Looks like you need me to do the same.”

The two of you toss around the ball for a while, your throws being much more unpredictable and much less powerful than Seokjin’s. Your ego inflated exponentially when you saw him miss a few, a smug expression on your face. When you look up at the sky, you realize it’s gotten dark, the sun beginning to set behind the trees.

“Hahaha, looks like the team might need a replacement pitcher soon,” you taunt him.

“In your dreams, ___, stick to helping people instead,” he laughs, immediately running towards you with a devious grin.

You squeal, running away from him, the two of you chasing each other through the park, your laughter echoing through the trees the entire way. 

Eventually, your legs tire, and you slow down, hiding behind a tree out of his sight. It’s all for nothing when you hear his footsteps thud on the running path behind you, his arms coming to wrap around you, sending the two of you toppling into the grass. 

“Ahhh, shit, that hurt more than it should have,” you groan, shifting onto your back. “We’re getting old.”

When you look up at him, your heart stops. Your heavy breathing slows as you look up at him, the stars from the night sky reflected in his eyes when he stares down at you, something hidden in their depths that makes your chest come alive with excitement. 

“Wanna know a secret, ____?” he laughs, stroking your wrist gently with his thumb, and you look over to see your hands intertwined. You hadn’t even noticed you were holding his.

“You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”

Seokjin’s plush lips descend towards yours, your breaths mingling for a brief moment before panic sets in, and you turn the other way, his kiss ending up on your cheek instead. You feel dizzy with emotion, immediately regretting the decision, knowing all you wanted to know was if his lips felt as soft as they looked. You’d been fooling yourself for so long, thinking your feelings for him had gone away.

You sit up, silence heavy in between you both, but you don’t leave, instead wrapping your arms around him and leaning onto his shoulder. He sighs contentedly, nuzzling against you, and the two of you remain there, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance.

“Ew, what do you mean you guys didn’t kiss properly,” Jungwoo looks at Seokjin from across his bed, five other pairs of young, curious eyes looking over at him. “Did she have cooties or something?”

“Stop it!” Soobin punches Jungwoo in the shoulder, earning a glare from the other boy. “You’re ruining the romance. Are you gonna ask her out, Jin?”

The baseball game in the background remains forgotten as the boys erupt with chatter, arguing amongst themselves about how to ask out a girl.

“I don’t know, guys,” Seokjin says dejectedly, wondering if the reason you’d only let him kiss you on the cheek was because you were engaged to Jackson. “It’s complicated with like, grownup stuff.”

“At least you have someone who likes you,” Felix groans. “Girls don’t exactly want to jump your bones when you’re a metal mouth.”

Seokjin jumps up at that, shushing Felix for even saying such a ludicrous thing.

“None of that, okay! We are young, and we are thriving. Love may be a battlefield, but we’re the Earth’s finest soldiers. So let’s get out there, yeah?”

. . . 

It’s finally here. The game that will make or break the Eagles’ season. And it’s also Seokjin’s first game back. The locker room is abuzz with tension and anxiousness, the players tripping around each other as they get ready.

In his cubby, Seokjin sits, and thinks. This was the moment he’d waited his entire life for. To be a star player, and to win a championship. Yet, in the grand scheme of things that had occurred, it was just another thing he had to do. He no longer faced the same anxiety he had during the day of the tryouts, wondering if he was good enough. He knew now that he was. That all of them were.

“Kim!” Coach slaps him across the back. “Speech please!”

Seokjin rises up and looks at his fellow men and teammates. He feels silly, giving a speech to them when he’s probably the lamest out of all of them, with thirteen-year-olds for friends and a hopeless crush on a girl. But then he remembers the words of that kid in the bathroom right before everything had changed. Hobi.

And he’d rather be original than cool anyway.

“I think,” he begins. “Over the course of the season, we’ve all forgotten that we have a reason for this. Baseball is our sport, and it’s our career, yeah, but there’s more to us than that. We have families, friends, and people we love and care about. We’re doing this for them just as much as we’re doing it for us. Because when we go out there on that field, and we put the love we feel for ourselves, and for everyone around us, into the sport that we play, we’ll be at our best. We need to remember what used to be good, and harness that.”

The whole dugout is silent for a few terrifying moments before there’s a clap from the back of the room. It’s joined by another one until the whole room is thundering in applause, and Coach is hugging Seokjin with tears in his eyes.

“Looks like that time off did you real good, kid.”

. . . 

Seokjin is the last one to leave after the victory, of course. He strips off his shirt, hitting the showers until all the sweat has dripped off his body, and now he pulls his workout gear over his head. The sound of a voice clearing behind him interrupts him, and he turns in surprise, seeing Jackson in the middle of the dugout.

“Hey,” Seokjin says. “Aren’t you supposed to go home? Isn’t ___ waiting for you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kim,” Jackson replies, ice in his tone. “I know your entire little stunt, and I’m here to tell you it’s not gonna work this time.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin feels his heart race at Jackson’s seething accusation.

“The moment this week ends, I’ll be married to ___, and I’m gonna ask Coach to trade me. You can’t have her this time, Kim. Do you think you can just bat your eyelashes and giggle and you’ll win the team over and get the girl? Nuh-uh. You’re still just a lame excuse of a person.”

Seokjin wants to protest, but he remains frozen, Jackson’s words causing his entire world to come crashing down around him. His lip begins to tremble, and when the first tear falls, he hears Jackson scoff, turning on his heels to leave. 

“You never stood a chance, Kim. Deep down, you’re still just that scared, uncool thirteen-year-old. Nothing’s changed, and nothing ever will.”

The week before the playoffs passes in agony, Seokjin knowing that Jackson knew about his feelings for you, and the fact that he’d be traded, and you’d go with him. He spends all his time in his apartment, talking with Jungwoo about what to do, he and the younger boy go through many pints of ice cream.

In the end, he calls the one he knows he needs to hear from the most.

“Eomma?” he asks over the phone. It feels good to tell her everything finally. She’d squealed in delight when he told her about you, telling him that Jackson was just being a quote, “butthurt dipshit.” “What should I do?”

“Oh Seokjinnie, only you know that. Just stay true to yourself, and all the answers will come your way, my boy.”

When he hangs up the phone, a notification pings on it, and he gasps at the headline.

“Jackson Wang traded from Eagles.”

In all his misery, he’d forgotten what day it was. He was almost out of time.

. . . 

The Internet was truly capable of modern miracles in this day and age, Jungwoo working his magic to help Seokjin find out the location of your wedding venue. Seokjin doesn’t even change out of his ratty sweats, throwing on his coat and running as fast as he can down the city streets, his phone overheating at how many times he ignored the maps function and changed direction.

Eventually, he comes to a stop outside the swanky hotel, strolling through the revolving doors and stumbling into the lobby. The finely dressed guests pay him no notice, and he manages to steal a bouquet of flowers, covering his face as he runs up the stairs two at a time, until he eventually finds your room number.

He knocks on the door, relieved to find it’s open, and that you’re alone. It must almost be time. You don’t notice him come in, too busy fixing your veil. A soft gasp escapes when you see him behind you in the mirror, disheveled and dripping with sweat, and you turn.

Seokjin thinks his heart might explode at how beautiful you look, your dress hugging every part of your body perfectly. But it’s more than that. Everything about you is radiant, glowing from the inside out. It’s like you’re the sun, and he’s the moon, your bright light complimenting his dim glow perfectly.

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice heavy with disbelief that he’s actually here.

“____, I know I’m not the greatest person, but I’m trying to be better,” he reaches for you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and your hand comes up to join his, eyes glimmering with tears. “And I’d like to think if you also believed that about me, maybe you wouldn’t be marrying Jackson right now. That maybe things could be different.”

You whimper, trying hard to hold back the tears, and Seokjin doesn’t want you to ruin your makeup, so he wipes them for you.

“I can’t lie to myself anymore,” you tell him. “I felt things for you over these past few weeks that I haven’t felt for eight years. But I’ve also realized over the past few days that you can’t just turn back time.”

“Why not?” Seokjin asks earnestly. He wants to believe, has to believe that there might be a way for it to work. 

“Because you made your choice, eight years ago in college, when I told you I liked you,” you respond, barely a whisper. “And you rejected me. I moved on and so did you. We’ve been going down different paths for so long, making different choices. And I chose Jackson.”

Seokjin feels dizzy, like the floor is about to collapse from underneath him. You’d liked him back then. And he’d been too caught up in his delusions to be honest with himself, to give you the chance that you deserved. And now it was too late. He knew growing up was about making mistakes, and learning how to deal with them, but somehow this mistake hurt more than anything he could have imagined.

“Don’t cry,” you say sadly, seeing his eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own.

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a weak smile, backing away. “I promise. I’m crying because I’m happy. I want you to be so, so happy.”

You reach around your neck, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace until it finally comes undone, putting it in his palm gently.

He looks down and chokes on a sob. It’s a tiny gold baseball glove. He’d never noticed it before. You close his palm around it, and he takes a step back, finding himself underneath the door.

“I love you, ___.” 

He has to say it before he goes, he has to let you know how he feels.

“I love you too, Seokjin. I always have.”

And with that, he leaves.

. . . .

Seokjin stumbles down the steps of the hotel, hyperventilating as he finds himself back on the street, the tiny gold necklace still clutched in the palm of his hand. 

He stumbles down the busy road, bumping into strangers, but not caring. All he could think about was the fact that you loved him back, and yet life was still so unfair. Seokjin felt stupid for even dreaming of this in the first place, realizing that dreams were nothing but a delusion. Things never turned out the way you wanted them to, the black and white of them always complicated by different shades of grey.

He finds an empty bench and sits down, clutching his knees to his chest like a child. Running his thumb over the delicate gold charm, he closes his eyes, wishing that none of this had ever happened to him, that he had just stayed thirteen this entire time.

He knew it was all for nothing, but that didn’t stop him from hoping one last time.

Seokjin jolts awake with a gasp, air burning his lungs and light hurting his eyes as the door to the locker is thrown open. His vision is blurry for a few seconds before it adjusts, and he looks up at his rescuer.

It’s a young girl, with a concerned look on her face.

“I heard you screaming, I live right next to the field. Are you okay?” she asks, and something about her seems familiar, but Seokjin can’t quite put his nose on it.

Looking down, he sees the dusty baseball mitt crushed in the palm of his hand, and running his tongue across his teeth, feels the metal of his braces, and his heart swells with joy. It worked! He was thirteen again. And now, he could finally start over.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles at her, putting his glasses on. They rest crooked on the tip of his nose, but he doesn’t care. “Thanks for saving me.”

“No problem!” the girl reaches her hand out for him to shake. “I’m ___, by the way. I just moved here.”

Seokjin feels his heart stop, looking into your eyes, finding them to be the same ones he’d said goodbye to moments ago. Was this really true? Was the universe giving him another chance? 

Taking his hand in hers, he shakes it, beaming down at her. “Nice to meet you, ___, I’m Jin. D-do, do you maybe want to go grab a milkshake and hang out?”

Your dazzling smile hasn’t changed at all, as you nod your head and laugh, the two of you walking out of the dugout and into the warm afternoon sun.

“I think we’re gonna be best friends, Jin.”

Epilogue

Seokjin pants, breath coming out in gasps as he carries the heavy box up the porch steps. He slams it onto the ground with a thud, putting his hands on his knees and letting out a loud groan, the muscles of his back aching. When he looks down, his mouth parts in surprise, the box’s tape having split open, revealing the myriad of photo frames that would soon decorate your new home.

From just a brief glance, Seokjin can already see a few pictures that make his heart swell, a dazed smile on his face. There was the one of you two at prom, when he’d almost confessed after seeing how stunning you looked in your dress but chickened out at the last minute. There was another from your college graduation, the two of you with bright eyes and wide smiles, ready to take on the future together. Another one from a date night at a game where he remembers the two of you getting caught on the jumbotron and making out in front of the crowd. His halmeoni blushed when she saw the video on tv the next day. On top of them all, though, sits Seokjin’s most prized possession: the framed photo of your wedding, Seokjin in a navy blue suit, and you in your dress, surrounded by your friends and family.

Growing up, Seokjin had a lot of dreams. A lot of them revolved around being cool, becoming someone worthy of your love. It was strange, but he’d fallen for you instantly the moment you’d rescued him from the locker, but it had taken years of your friendship for him to make a move. He’d always been so scared that his nerdy thirteen year old self would follow him through the years, and that he’d remain someone you never saw as a life partner. But he was wrong. Because you’d fallen for him too, spending years hiding your feelings in the same silly way. The day he married you was the day he’d realized all his dreams had finally come true.

Your soft footsteps come up behind him on the porch, and he turns to see you looking at him with a curious smile on your face. The sun shines behind you, bathing your face in its soft rays, and Seokjin can’t resist, lifting you up as you squeal, kicking your feet and the two of you stumble over the threshold together.

“That was a lot more romantic in my head,” he chuckles, offering you a hand up. 

“Jinnie,” you poke his cheek. “Who’s gonna get the boxes from outside now, huh?”

Taking your hand in his, he pulls you further inside with him, wanting to cherish these precious moments with you. The boxes could wait a little longer. For now, he was excited to begin the rest of your life together.

“God, it’s fucking freezing,” you chatter your teeth, feeling Jin pull the blanket tighter around your  shivering bodies on the floor. “Why did the heater have to break right before we moved in?”

His warm figure pulls you closer into him until your bodies are smushed together, limbs entangled in a mess.

“Nothing wrong with a little body heat,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s smirking. 

You turn towards him, ignoring his soft ow! when you punch him in the chest, before burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your eyelids flutter, heavy from the fatigue of moving in all day, but the draft in the house causes you to shiver again in Seokjin’s arms. Looking up at your husband, you find his deep brown eyes focused on yours, his warm, gentle breath fanning against your face.

Seokjin’s fingers reach up to slowly brush a stray hair from your cheek, and despite the cold, you feel your body flush with warmth, bumping your nose against his accidentally before your lips meet Seokjin’s pillowy ones.

You’ve done this a thousand times, but every time feels like the first, Seokjin’s tongue tracing the seam of your lips before he bites at them, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Touch me,” you whisper against his mouth, and you feel Seokjin’s grip on your waist get tighter, his hands running up and down your sides until you’re shivering, but not from the cold.

He guides your hips over his, his right hand pushing you down against him until his hungry lips meet yours once again before they drop to mouth at your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into the flesh there, and you bite back a moan.

Seokjin detaches himself from your neck, eyes dark with arousal as he looks at the splotches and faint sheen of saliva on your neck, and you feel a wave of longing rush down towards your core, grabbing his hand that rests on your back and moving it underneath your shirt, cupping your breast in his hands before he squeezes.

From there, the two of you are frantic, fumbling with buttons and kicking your limbs until your clothes fly off, and you giggle at Seokjin’s pyjamas in the corner, the cartoon characters on them resembling miniature versions of your husband. Your laughter is cut off by a sharp groan when Seokjin’s teeth graze your collarbone, biting down lightly.

“You’re perfect,” he rasps, laving at the mark with his tongue. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

His fingers trace up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples, and you whine, grinding down into his lap. You feel him harden underneath you, and you roll your hips on top of him again, nails scratching down the broad planes of his back. 

Seokjin flips you around, caging your body underneath him, his knee pushing up right where you need him, his tongue flattening against your stiff nipple, sucking and teasing the bud until it’s red and aching.

“Need you inside,” you bed him, your hips bucking against his knee while his hand slips between your legs, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

You feel the pressure in your stomach build, your movements stuttering against Seokjin’s fingers. It’s amazing, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. You need to feel him.

“Look at me,” Seokjin whispers before he pushes himself inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel so unbelievably full, like you’re going to explode, body scorched with heat and nerves tingling in excitement.

He starts off slow, gently rocking into you, silently asking you if this is okay. His gentleness makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode, the moonlight shining on his skin and bathing him in the softest glow. You feel lucky that he’s yours forever. 

You meet his thrusts with circles of your own hips, your back arching up off the blanket as you moan for him to go faster.

“This okay, babe?” His thrusts speed up, snapping into yours, and you’re unable to do anything but slur yes, your voice ringing in your own ears, your moans mingling with his soft groans as the two of you move in tandem, lost in the feeling of each other. 

You grip his shoulders tightly, a string of curses exploding from your lips as the pleasure washes over you, your vision going white.

“Come for me ___,” Seokjin’s deep growl has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart underneath him. You whine in oversensitivity when he continues moving inside of you, squeezing his hand until he collapses on top of you, his warm cum spilling into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, burying his face into your neck. “My back is gonna be so sore when we wake up.”

“Can you believe we’re here?” you ask him, looking into his eyes. “Married, with our own house? We’re so old now.”

You mean it as a joke, but Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead, his sweaty arms wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“There’s no one I’d rather grow old with,” he smiles, before his expression turns mischievous. “Now, since we can’t sleep anyway, what do you say to getting some milkshakes, Mrs. Kim?”

“That sounds like a great idea, Mr. Kim.”

A/N pt 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

#bts #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #collab: catch of the century #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin #kim seokjin #jin #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin smut #jin angst #seokjin fic #seokjin imagine #jin fic #jin imagine

[cherubispunk]

ICHOR. BLOOD. WATER. (part i // ichor.) - Din Djarin x Witch!AFAB!Reader

summary: stranded. alone. a traitor to your people, your family. aeaea is the prison of paradise you call home, and he is the prophecy you like to call an enigma. the 'man made from metal', forged in fire, melted by your spell that is no witchcraft on your part. he is the hunter, you will always be the prey. it is the way as the fates designed it.

a note from lucy: so, its back. i'm officially back! basically, I went through it. accidentally deleted my blog. had to start from scratch. repost it all. but! I'm here. you're here. we're all here! Greek mythology is a huge love of mine. I always like to add a small sprinkling into my fics where possible. and now im writing one based wholly of two greek myths: eros and phsyche, and circe. I've read Madeleine Miller's 'Circe'. I fell in love with it, it's genuinely one of the best books ive had the pleasure of reading --hence the fact that this is heavily based off it in terms of 'lore'. Din is the perfect character for these myths to be translated into fic. So, without further ado, I present to all you lovely people (again lol), my mythology!au; ICHOR. BLOOD. WATER. for @inklore and @psychedelic-ink's haunted hoedown. A three part fic with our beloved space cowboy. I really hope you enjoy it as I put a lot of time and thought into this. I love you all, you wonderful Pedro fanatics.

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wc: 2255 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! mythology!au, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Circe' twice in this chapter alone, dubcon, smut, p in v sex (unprotected), reference to past sexual assault (very mild), cussing, mentions of witchcraft, voyeurism, mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of food and descriptions of eating, choking, breath play, oral sex - f receiving, edging, orgasm denial, toxic relationships, dom!din/sub!reader dynamic, sex as a means for manipulation and control, manipulative!din, stockholm syndrome?

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You had done many things under the pseudonym of Circe. Bird. Crow. What your mother and siblings used as a knife to your throat. An insult in the form of a name. One that man whispered in myth around fires. One a sailor would call out in fear upon reaching the shore of any island in the vicinity of Aeaea. It clung to the disgusted curl of their tongue like the tang of sour fruits. Lemons of Sicily. Limes from crete. Wrapped in letter parchment, sweetened with ink. 

Across from you is the god responsible for many of those tall tales. In his gold sheathed glory, olive skin gleaming with a ripple of muscle against the warmth of your hearth. Under it flows ichor, steadily. His winged sandals flutter in a twitch every few minutes. A subtle sound that is heard little too often over the lilt of his voice. Hermes. A deity you invited to your bed when he would visit, indulge in the stories of how he stole cattle as mere youngling, delivered messages of ruin to mortals. Travelled the planes of the underworld from the Styx to Elysium Plains. Hades and his sunken eyes on his throne. Where winged sandals would carry him overseas with his travellers cap and staff of entwined twin snakes. 

He would sit upon your chair, open his loose lips and a drone would pour out, Maybe to a mortal he would seem all so interesting. One to dote hours of your day to the thick honey like pouring of his voice in your ear. But to you – the witch – a goddess in your own right, he was a mere drag. A rake. A god worthy of being turned to swine at the unjust sight of his curling smirk. 

You would have drifted off it weren't for his voice picking up in interest, your ears perking up with it. The high buzz from his drone of white noise faded, ebbing into coherence while his lips drifted in voice. Practised and perfected movement the way any divine being did. 

“The fates speak of a man. Made of metal.” He mused, studying his thumb and forefinger as a stand of your lionesses hair was snagged between it. You wished to singe it from his fingertips. “A warrior.” “From overseas of Greece?” Now, and only now,  he had your attention. 

“Further.” 

You muttered a curse under your breath. Where would be further. “He will sail on a ship, strand himself on your shores engulfed with fire. And you shall do as you have before.”

“Take it?” You sneered, sitting forward in your seat, teeth bared at him. “I suppose I shall feed him before he sets his disgusting hands upon me.” 

“Oh come now,” He smirked, “Were you not to take him to your bed regardless?” 

“I shall sew your mouth shut for such accusations.” 

Hermes sighed, rolling his eyes in all his dramatics. Lounging in his seat. 

“Circe, you humour me with your feral tongue.” 

“And you disgust me with your plight.” “Ah,” he held up a single finger, humour on his face at the top of his curled lip, “I may be bored. But at least I have the world. You, Circe,” he spat, raising a brow in sickening amusement, “have nothing.” 

Your face drained of colour. Your heart aching in its chasm of a chest, ribs pinching. He was right. Your oasis was still a prison. Despite its bars of gold, it still held you. Contained you. 

He stood in his victory over you, taking one last look around. “One last thing–”

“Oh, there’s more, is there?” You sighed, staying seated. For all his heirs and graces, he was no more worthy of your respect than the dirt caked to your bare feet in winter's first bite. The god merely crossed his arms, a diving wind rustling the blonde curls upon his head, wrapped in laurels, 

“You must never look upon his face.” 

You sat in a furrowed brow muddle. He had drifted to the wind, turned to a shimmering spectacle of dust, in nothing more than a blink. 

—

He came with a blundering sputter. In a ship that was no ship of wood that sailed on tides. A hunk of chrome with spitting fans of fiery heat. A thwip through your cloudless skies to crash upon sandy shores. 

He came…with a child. A green creature with pointed ears similar to satyrs, no taller than your mid calf, alien to you. Wide hickory eyes that masked his face with innocence, having seen things unspeakable to even brave sailors. And when they sat at your table, piled plentifully with sweet figs, legs of mutton infused with rosemary, steamed and seasoned greens, and honey in its jar, the man of metal left all deserted by his lips. His plate was clean, wine untouched in his cup. Never once needing an added refill. Nor did he speak kindly. Rather, reserved. Gruff, distorted by something in his helmet seemingly fused to his head. While the child chewed on the fleshy roasted bone of lamb. 

Rhythms of autumn, songs of summer, ballads of winter watched over you and the meadows you walked. Gardens you tended to. Woods you roamed. And he did too. There was something within him. Under that beskar. It called, howled, growled in insubordination. A vulgar hatred of being vulnerable out in this position. Where you held an advantage of both terrain and power. 

So he took in a way he knew. In carnal, biting desire paced by him. Phallically. Reversed the role of who won who, made you beg in your own bed, in the drowning pools of darkness. Never to see his face. 

But oh so familiar. 

The first time he took you was akin to a memory in the very moment it happened. A haze of something so absurd it couldn't possibly have been true. Played out the way it did. The Mandalorian watched while you bathed. In a creek not too far from the path. A rock for your lioness to splay out over, sunbathe and make her coat gleam gold like the ichor in your veins. Her ears pricked at a sound he made. One you did not hear with your head submerged under the clear pool. 

She looked up, lifting her whiskered chin from her large paws, and her eyes met his. He did not fret. Nor did he stop and turn away from the great willow he stood below. Only glanced from her to the curve of your bare chest rippling above the crystal waters rippling surface. 

From there, he had stalked you to the deeper parts of the forest where even your familiar did not follow. Watched as a wicker basket was tucked under your arm, flowers and mosses being picked from the ground as you went about gathering pharmakeia for your draughts. 

He appeared, bringing his musk while his hand clamped down over your parted lips. Pressed your front firmly into the tree, hands scraped gold raw by the silver birch’s peeling bark.  

“Don’t.” He growled upon your demand to turn around. “Face the tree.” 

And you obeyed in tandem with the hiss of something– his helmet– as it dropped to the dewy floor by your bare feet. A single kiss, seasoned with sparse prickled hairs was laid to the nape of your neck, a wondrous dichotomy to the events yet to unfold, noises of restraint on the tip of his tongue, the back of his throat. The skirts of your dress were gathered in messy haste, undergarments pulled to the side, revealing the shine of your own slick. How you dreamed in secret nights of this very moment. His taking of you, his claiming of your cunt— grunting while he invaded the tightness of your walls, flayed you open forever like a sacred text, ready for him to read once again. 

A large palm of his, gloved in leather, pressed to the nape of your neck where the notch of your spine ended and your skull began to curve, thumb pressed to flesh, fingers curled into gnarled hair. You gasped, cold air nipping the back of your exposed thighs, fully clothed still, yet bent to submission by the masculine will of him. Naked. 

The orgasm was The Mandalorians. And the Mandalorians alone. You never questioned the burning ache of pending release. Merely let it simmer in the tight heat of your walls at the mouth of your cervix. His noise still stinging in your ears, shocking the breath from your lungs. He took no time. It was a rush for his release. His domination of the witch of Aeaea. 

From that moment onwards, you imagined his lips, recited in drugged sleep to the egyptian cotton and goose down of your pillow. His irises. To write a poem on parchment about something you could not see, nor ever would per his and Herme’s telling. Fingertips itching to feel warmth of skin, not beskar. While his armour was smooth, buffed, polished to shine in rays of Helios's chariot, it was cold to the touch. You had his visage mapped in your mind. Well trodden by fingertips such as the paths by the tall cliffs. The Mandalorian. Nameless. Faceless. 

He spent each night for a fortnight in your bed. The first, he parted your legs himself, and the rest they were already spayed open for his wanting. He snuffed the candles with his thumb and forefinger, unsheathing them from his gloves before doing so. You watched with intent from the sheets as his visage dominated the tall door frame. Shoulders broad and intimidating the negative space he occupied. Only when he was shrouded in utter darkness did he remove his helmet, climb his way up to your parted lips. Curating a careful path from them, over the column of your throat, descending your navel to the forbidden fruit gleaming, ripe and juicy for his lips. Ready for his first damning lick of your sex. 

Like the apple in the garden of Eden, temptation on Lucifer's forked tongue, he delved deeper, rested his naked face between your tensing thighs. Broad arms, still sheathed in beskar curled under them, dragging you closer to his open mouth while your arousal, slick and thick as honey, drizzled out your weeping hole to his open, wanting mout. 

His tongue drew ellipsis over the twitching bud of your clit. Thick and firm, the tip pressing into your cunt, following your hot seam down to your quivering hole. He dipped inside, curling it to draw the taste out. You couldn't see his eyes. But you liked to imagine they were open to feast on the sight of your quivering and naked chest the best he could without the guide of the candlelight. Now snuffed into curling stings of smoke. Staring while you were shaking under the pleasure rolling up from your centre and cascading like a landslide down your spine. It made you shiver. The soft plush of your legs swallowing his exposed ears, the small, neatly trimmed curls tickling the sensitive flesh. His coarse beard, scruff scattered in a smattering over his sharp chin scratching your skin. 

A low groan rumbled from the back of his throat, your tang dancing with light feet over his taste buds And his nose bumped into your clit as he tasted more. Devoured your cunt like his last meal. 

It wasn't long before you felt the burn behind your eyes replicate in knots in your belly. Tightening at the mouth of your cervix while he ate at you. A cry of his name bursting from your chest as he flicked his tongue with vigour. He had one aim in mind. To taste your release. The sticky mess that would coat his lower face. 

“Give it to me.” He commanded. And oh, how you tried. You willingly left this realm while he licked at your pussy, his tongue languidly rolling up one side of your labia, up to your clit and circling it, then down the other side to plunge into your tight, clenching hole once more. 

You nimble fingers curled into his hair. It was coarse, wispy at its ends where it started to coil loosely. And you gripped it as you ground your core into his face. RIding and grinding into his face that was exposed to your quivering cunt. Not ready to part with the way his ips enclosed around your clit and added enough suction for you to see Ouranos and all the stars that tattooed his blue skin. 

You panted a chorus of heavenly oh’s. Breath came in heavy as he pulled back to spit. You felt it, cold in contrast to your own heat, drooling down to your slick entrance. It quivered when he added a finger, curling up from the second knuckle. It was merely one digit. But it stretched you out, had you reeling while he beckoned your orgasm closer to materialising in your belly. 

He could smell the musk of you and it was divine. 

He had your orgasm building and building into a near state of harrowing oblivion before he let it rip through you. The first wave was one of numbing pleasure. The one that fizzled through your legs until you were nothing but a mere speck for a second. And then it broke, like some great epiphany from him as an enigma. 

He stood, replaced his helmet, leaving you boneless. A quivering, babbling mess of sweat and slick in your own sheets.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #join djarin fic #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian fic #join djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin the mandalorian #the mandalorian #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian x reader #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #haunted hoedown #greek mythology #mythology au #star wars fanfiction

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly

Author:@harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) (eventually) Word Count: 3,368 Warnings: lil’ bit of angst, lil’ bit of fluff, flashback Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! I'm sorry this is late! All is explained in A/N2. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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I couldn’t tell you when I fell asleep, but what I could tell you was that I had woken up to a tapping sensation on my arm, my name being quietly called.

“Olivia, can you take me home now?” Nancy asked.

Sitting up, I stretched some and nodded my head. She had asked me where Barb was, but I didn’t have a clue, telling Nancy that she might’ve just walked home, at seeing me sleeping.

When I got home after taking Nancy home, I tried not to make any noise to wake my mom up, but I wasn’t anticipating her being up. So, when I saw her sitting in her chair with our cat, Mews, I jumped out of my skin. “Jesus, Mom. You scared me.”

“Livvie, where have you been?” she asked, petting the cat.

There’s no sense in lying. “I went to Steve’s.”

“I thought you went–”

“To Steve’s. Not the assembly.”

“Was Nancy there?”

Lie. “No. I dropped her off at the assembly before going alone. I’m sorry. I should’ve called.” I walked over to her, hearing her take a deep breath.

“Why do you smell like chlorine?” she asked.

“Steve pushed me in the pool,” I explained. “It’s late. Can I sleep? I swear, I’ll explain everything in the morning.”

“Are you two friends again?”

I sighed. “Not exactly.”

~~~

The next morning, Dustin asked that I follow him to the Wheeler house. I guess they had some explaining to do with El. When we got there, Mike launched into his explanation about how El knows Will is in what they’re calling the Upside Down. Dustin, Lucas and Mike all three explained to me that El took their D&D board, flipped it over to show the blackside, or bottom, of the board and put the Demogorgon character piece on it.

“So, Will is in the Upside Down, and he’s running or hiding from the Demogorgon?” I questioned.

“Yes,” El answered.

“We have a plan,” Mike said. “We tell our parents that we have AV club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.”

“You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will is?” Lucas asked.

“Just trust me on this,” Mike said, looking at Lucas. “Did you get the supplies?”

Lucas reached into his bag, pulling out different items and naming them off as he did. “Binoculars… from ‘Nam. Army knife… also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana… and the wrist rocket.”

“You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?” Dustin asked.

“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye… and blind it.”

“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike asked my brother.

He took his backpack and dumped out a bunch of snacks.

I gasped. “You little shit! You took my Pringles!” I grabbed the can from the table, opening the can to take a crisp out. Popping it into my mouth, I sighed happily.

“We got Nutty Bars–” Dustin started.

“Thank you,” I interrupted, grabbing the pack of Nutty Bars.

“Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana and trail mix.”

“Seriously?” Lucas deadpanned.

“We need energy for our travels, for stamina.”

“And why do you need all these weapons anyway?” I asked, popping another crisp into my mouth.

“We have her,” Dustin added, gesturing towards El.

“She shut one door!” Lucas said.

“With her mind!” Dustin and I answered.

“Are you kidding me?” Dustin continued. “That’s insane!”

“Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do,” I smiled.

Dustin went over to the chair that was sitting beside the couch that El was leaning in. Pulling back a blanket to reveal a Millennium Falcon toy, he said, “I bet she can make this fly!” He picked it up, turning to face the preteen girl. Holding it out, he told her to concentrate before letting go of it, the toy falling straight to the floor. Picking it back up, he wanted to try again, but to no avail.

Running to pick up the toy, Mike told Dustin that El isn’t a dog before Mrs. Wheeler called for the boys, telling them it was time for school. Lucas, Dustin and I raced upstairs while Mike stayed down in the basement with El for a few more moments. When he came outside, we all got on our bikes and pedaled our way to school.

~~~

I was standing at my locker when I noticed Nancy walking up from the corner of my eye. When she reached her own locker, she opened it and went to put her things into it when Steve showed up out of seemingly nowhere, slamming her door the rest of the way open.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. Doing a double take, he looked back at me, smiling. “Hey, Liv.”

Nancy said her hello’s back, albeit with a semi-nervous tone to her voice. I looked at her confused as Steve asked, “Everything okay?” “Yeah!” she answered. “Yeah, totally. I just…” She looked off to the side, looking at everyone as she voiced, “I feel like everyone’s… staring at me.”

“Oh, I didn’t…” Steve said, looking back at me before looking back at Nance. “We didn’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t even know what happened,” I said, grabbing a book from my locker.

“I know,” Nancy said. “I know. Of course not. But what about, like, Tommy and Carol and them?”

“You’re being paranoid,” Steve said. 

Looking at Nancy from behind Steve, I said, “I’ll take care of those assholes if they did. Don’t worry about them.”

Nancy looked in between Steve and I for a few seconds before her eyes locked on Steve’s as she said, “I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s cute,” Steve said. “Hey. I had a good time.”

“Yeah,” Nance said. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve leaned in towards her and that’s when I checked out for a moment before feeling a couple of taps on my shoulder. I turned my head and watched as Steve walked off to his first class… which, coincidentally, was the same class that I had.

Three classes drug on before it was lunch, and I was hungry! I sat on Steve’s left and started to pick at my meal as Tommy was talking about something I wasn’t paying attention to, but just couldn’t help but listen to.

“That’s why science doesn’t make any damn sense to me,” he said. 

“No, I swear, look at this,” Carol said. “It’s totally frostbite.”

“Can’t be,” I said. “You’d have to be in the straight cold with no warmth whatsoever. It was a heated pool.”

She rolled her eyes at me, but I just smiled at her, knowing I was fully correct… maybe.

“Well, then, if it’s not frostbite, then what is it, oh smart one?” she asked.

“I don’t care what it is, it’s disgusting, get it off the table, we’re eating here,” Steve said.

I pushed my tray away, not having an appetite anymore before I noticed Steve pushed his tray closer to me. Even though we weren’t as close as we once were, it was nice that he still remembered certain things. Like, offering some of his lunch because my mom would forget to pack lunch for me or give me lunch money.

“Hey, Tommy,” Nancy said. “When you left, did you see Barb?”

“What?” he asked.

“Barbra,” Nance informed. “She’s not here today.”

“I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be an ass,” I said, agitated with him. “Did you see her leave or not?”

He gave me a death glare, but I held my own as he eyed Steve before replying, “No, she was gone when we left.”

“Probably couldn’t stand listening to all that moaning,” Carol said, her and Tommy faking sexual moans of Steve’s name.

I stood up and grabbed my stuff, saying, “Is there any serious situation that you two don’t reference sex to?” I walked away from the table, and out of the cafeteria, going straight for my locker. I opened it, angrily grabbing at a cigarette before a hand stopped me.

“When did you start smoking?” 

I sighed and closed my eyes. “Don’t you have your little minions to tend to?” I looked up at Steve, seeing concern written in his eyes. I sighed again, this time through my nose. “I’m fine. It’s just… hard hearing all that.”

He looked around, before leaning a little closer to me. “You don’t–”

“No, I remember,” I said, my eyes dancing between his own hazel orbs. Vividly. It was something I thought about all the time. I really wished I didn’t, but the memories from that night just wouldn’t stop coming back every time I closed my eyes. “I’ll see you after school, okay?”

I walked away from Steve, cigarette in hand. I went to his car and sat on the hood like I always did and lit the stick. I took a couple puffs, deciding that smoking wasn’t my thing. I guess I had sat out here for longer than I had anticipated because the next thing I knew, everyone was coming out of the school, laughter and chatter filling the air. 

I watched as Steve made his way towards me, leaning against the front end of his car and sighed.

“If you’re gonna sit on my car–”

“I have to ask first, I know,” I sighed. I messed with my pants leg for a moment, not wanting to ruin anything.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Steve said, “You don’t have to ask. Just… don’t scuff it.”

We locked eyes for a moment before we both started snickering. Nicole made her way towards us, nervously telling Steve something about Jonathan that put me on high alert. Steve asked me to come with them, so I did, sitting behind Steve on Jonathan’s trunk.

When the oldest Byers boy walked up his car, he looked at Steve, myself, the horndogs Tommy and Carol, and Nicole.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked, everyone but me moving towards him.

“Nicole here was telling us about your work,” Steve said. 

“We’ve heard great things,” Carol said.

“Yeah, sounds cool,” Tommy said.

Steve looked back at me, but I just shook my head and looked ahead, not liking where this was going. Turning back to Jonathan, he said, “We’d just love to take a look. Ya’know, as… connoisseurs of art.”

I scoffed and looked at my shoes, already knowing where this was headed. But how far was it heading? I couldn’t tell you that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jonathan said, trying to get to his car.

Tommy quickly snatched his backpack from him, basically being a seventh grade bully. 

“Please, give me my bag,” Jonathan pleaded as Tommy tossed the bag to Steve.

Steve turned to face me, saying, “He’s totally trembling. He must really have something to hide.” I had to quickly move my arms out of the way as Steve put the bag on my lap, rummaging through it to find some black and white pictures. He moved to lean on the car so that I could see over his shoulder at the pictures.

What I saw shocked me to my core; all of us. Last night at Steve’s. I looked at Jonathan, who had an almost sad look to his face. I never thought of Jonathan as a creepy stalker. I guess it’s always the quiet ones.

“This isn’t creepy at all,” Carol said.

Jonathan looked me dead in the face and said, “I was looking for my brother.”

My heart softened a little at his words before Steve said, “No. No, this is called stalking.”

A few seconds later, Nancy showed up, asking, “What’s going on?”

“Here’s the starring lady,” Tommy said.

“Don’t you have a shower to go take or something?” I said, animosity to my tone.

“What?” Nancy asked.

“This creep was spying on us last night,” Carol informed. “He was probably gonna save this one for later.” She handed Nancy a photo that I quickly saw a glimpse of; Nancy with her back to the camera, taking off her shirt.

Tapping my knee, Steve said, “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but… that’s the thing about perverts.” He moved closer to Jonathan, fixing his collar. “It’s hardwired into ‘em. Ya’know, they just can’t help themselves.” He ripped up the photo in his hands before tossing the pieces up in Jonathan’s face. “So, you just have to take away his toy.”

“Steve,” I muttered. “Don’t.”

“No, please, not the camera,” Jonathan begged.

Steve looked me in the eyes as Jonathan spoke. I didn’t want to, but the look in his eyes was pleading with me to play along. I knew Steve wasn’t like this; a bully. He was just putting on an act for Tommy and Carol.

I relented and gave him the camera as Tommy moved toward Jonathan to stop him from trying to get his camera from Steve.

“No, no, wait, wait… Tommy, Tommy,” Steve said, handing the camera out to the Byers boy. “Here ya go, man.” 

When Jonathan reached out for his camera, Steve dropped it, breaking it. I hopped off the car and shoved his arm back while exclaiming his name. We locked eyes for a moment before I could see the instant regret in his eyes.

“Come on, the game’s about to start.” Steve walked away, the other three following behind as Nancy and I stood in our spots before she bent down to help Jonathan. I started walking towards the group, wanting to get on my bike and ride home.

When I made it to Steve he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “I know you’re angry, but please stay.”

“Angry isn’t the word I’d use,” I said, quietly.

“What word–”

“Disappointed,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “This isn’t the Steve I know, the Steve I grew up with. Where’s that Steve? How do I get him back?” Our eyes danced around each other for a moment before he snapped back to his own version of reality, calling out Nancy’s name.

I rolled my eyes and walked inside, sitting in front of my locker.

~~~

“So, I told Mr. Mundy, the solution of ten plus y equals… blow me,” Carol explained.

“I guess you’re not doing well in math,” I said as Tommy laughed at her.

“If you did that, you’d be in detention right now,” Steve said.

“Saturday,” Carol said.

“I bet Mr. Mundy’s still a virgin,” Tommy voiced.

I was looking down at the paper in my lap when I quietly said, “You sure you’re not still a virgin?” Well, I thought I said it quietly when a pen was launched in my direction. I grabbed it from the ground and smiled. “Sweet. Mine was getting low on ink.”

Nancy walked in front of me, so I followed her with my eyes as Steve said, “Nance, where you going?” Making up a lie on the spot, she stammered, “I totally forgot. I told my mom I would, uhm… I would do something with her.”

Standing, Steve said, “What do you mean? The game’s about to start.”

Not turning back, she said, “I’m sorry.” Turning to face Tommy and Carol before facing me, Steve sighed and asked, “What the hell’s wrong with her?” I shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t really talked to her much.”

“Maybe she freaked out when you all psycho on the psycho,” Tommy said, laughing.

“Ah, give me a break,” Steve said.

I scoffed, packing up my bag. Standing, I said, “Well, what the hell did you expect, dating Miss Perfect?”

We almost had a little bit of a standoff, Steve and I. But, before it could actually get to that point, I chuckled, looking away for a moment before I started to walk away. I turned back around, looking back at Steve. “Ya’know what? I’m done. When you find my best friend, drop me a line.”

~~~

I was on my way home when I heard sirens, and I immediately thought about Dustin. So, in my haste to try and find him, I started with covering the places I knew he’d probably be at, and when he wasn’t at the Wheeler’s, the Sinclair’s, or our house, I checked one more place; the Byers.

Jonathan wasn’t home, which I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I really wanted to apologize on Steve’s behalf for what he’d done to his camera. When I heard leaves ruffling to my left, I was high alert.

“Oh, my god,” I breathed. Running to my little brother, I gave him a hug, squeezing him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Where were you?” Mike asked. “I thought you were coming with us after school?”

“Sorry, something came up. Wait, why are you here?” I looked at all the kids, the last one I spotted being El.

“Here,” she said.

“Yeah, this is the Byers’ house,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Hiding.”

“No, no, this is where he lives,” Mike said. “He’s missing from here. Understand?”

“El,” I said, gaining the girl's attention. “Sweetie, what are you doing here?”

“She said he’s hid–” “Thank you, Michael,” I said, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing–” Dustin said.

“That’s exactly what we did!” Lucas exclaimed. “I told you she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about!” Pointing to Dustin and Lucas, I said, “Both of you can calm the hell down.” Looking back at El, I gently asked, “El, why did you bring them here?”

“Liv, don’t waste your time with her,” Lucas said. 

“What do you want to do then?” I asked. 

“Call the cops–”

“We’re not  calling the cops! I promised Hopper I’d keep you guys from going out last night. We can’t call them!”

“Hey, guys,” Dustin said. I looked behind me, faintly hearing the sirens.

Lucas was going on about something when Dustin yelled, “Guys!” before the cops and ambulances drove by. We all quickly got on our bikes and followed the cars to the quarry. The five of us watched as they turned a body over in the water, the clothes the same exact ones that Will was wearing three nights ago when he went missing.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I put my hand over my mouth. I grabbed Dustin, giving him the tightest hug. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Jonathan in the morning when this all got out.

Mike voiced his opinion on the body not being Will’s and that it couldn’t be until Lucas confirmed that it really was Will. El tried saying Mike’s name, but he freaked out on her, saying that she was supposed to help them find Will alive. In his heartbreak, Mike quickly got on his bike and went back home, leaving El behind.

I told Dustin and Lucas to make sure she got home safely before my little brother asked where I was going. I told him I needed to take care of something before I went home and to not wait up for me.

Setting my bike down at my destination, I knocked on the door and rang the doorbell before taking a moment to breathe. 

The doors opened, followed by a very confused voice saying my name. “What are you–?”

“They just found his body,” I cried.

“Whose body?” Steve asked.

“Will, the kid that’s missing. They found him in the quarry,” I sobbed. Before I could fall to my knees, Steve put his arms around me, guiding me inside his house. I didn’t say any information he didn’t already know, which was what everyone else knew.

He offered me some water and a blanket, but I just shook my head at him, wiping my tears away.

Steve understood and led me upstairs to his room, where we both laid together in his bed as I cried like I used to.

In this moment, I really felt like I had my best friend back, but only time will tell.steve harrington x olovia henderson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

prev | current chapter | next

season masterlist

series masterlist

series playlist 

~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! so, reason for the late upload is because my daughter needed to go to the doctors 'cause she was with her aunt, who said that she was having some drainage. turns out, she has strep. so, because of me having to do that, i never edited and uploaded this chapter. but, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Note: i know that some of y’all are waiting to see your requests, and i promise i’ll get to them. the writer’s block hit really bad with them. atb is the only thing i have motivation to write/post for at the moment.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on November 22, 2023

#steve harrington x olivia henderson #steve x olivia #steve harrington x oc #steve x oc #steve harrington #olivia henderson #stevia #always the babysitter #atb #dustin henderson #will byers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #eleven hopper #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #joyce byers #chief jim hopper #season one episode three #orignal character #home slice olivia was all me #stranger things imaine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #steve harrington imagine #steve harringon fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve fanfic #steve fanfiction #steve imagine

[chronoscout-writ]

[Image ID: The donghua teen versions of Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and the OC Pan Wukun hold their swords out. The background is misty mountains. Above the three characters is the title logo with the words, "Mo Dao Zu Shi - Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Astray". End ID]

The cover art I made for my Wei Wuxian/Fem!OC/Lan Wangji polyamory fanfic, Astray.

Link to fic and more info under the cut. It’s ongoing at 103,144 words.

The OC is a bisexual & demisexual masculine Vietnamese-American woman who gets transported into the world of MDZS and is shrunk into a child again. She has to travel the cultivation world Mulan style and cross-dresses as a boy (honestly, as a gnc woman, she prefers it) to find a way back home to our world. She tries very hard to survive with her future knowledge of the original MDZS story.

The story is slow-paced, slow build, and slow burn.

Sporadic/Irregular Updates.

Here's a Spotify Playlist for binge-reading. Shuffle recommended.

Choose the fanfic site you prefer below.

Archive of Our Own - I recommend this version, which is the best for glossary and research links.

Fanfiction.net

Wattpad

Quotev

#mdzs #mdzs fanart #mdzs fanfic #mdzs oc #wei wuxian x oc x lan wangji #self insert #si oc #my art #oc x canon #mdzs astray

[leoandraphssoulmate]

Hey! Welcome to my blog! Here you will find links to my written works on AO3! Take a look around on my AO3 as well! There's more than what's listed here! Along with links to my Amazon account, where you can purchase my newest book: RISE! ENJOY!!!!! AND DON'T FORGET TO REBLOG!!!! THANKS!!!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Link to all writing Playlists

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

🔴🔺️🔶️Raph and Mikey's Hip Hop Album🔶️🔺️🟠

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

FLUX SAGA

Art by: @t-annuki

Main theme song: Offworld

And the whole soundtrack here (FLUX VOL.1)

FLUX SAGA VOL. 1

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Main theme song: Separate Ways

And the whole soundtrack here (FLUX VOL.2)

FLUX SAGA VOL. 2

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

FLUX SAGA CHARACTER LORE (Including Extra's)

Pinterest Boards: ( I don't own any of the pics! They are strictly for character and landscape refferences for FLUX!)

Karai Lasora

Orion 8

Star Lanteen

Will add more soon!

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

Character References

Platform 18 An Aliens/The Expanse Fanfic

🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

Weary Traveler

Reference pics🐝

A little about me:

I'm not here for drama! I'm here to share with and support my TMNT fam and escape my everyday life! 💯

I currently live in St. Louis, but pray and wish every day that l actually lived in New York! I'm a published author, vintage glass collector, monster lover, Aquarius, Demisexual, mutantterrapinsexual...

I write TMNT fan fiction, Aliens/The Expanse fanfic and also dabble in other forms of fiction. I love damn near ALL things post-apocalyptic! I love dystopian themes too! They kinda go hand in hand☢️☣️

I read when l can and just try to live life one day at a time💓

To be continued...

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

My Love Letter to Leo

Babe, there's absolutely nothing and no one like you. Your very soul vibrates with mine, taking me higher, elevating me in the most delicious way possible. No matter what, you’re always there, comforting me, listening to me, holding me. I hear your voice in my mind when I’m having a tough time, telling me to breathe, that it will be ok. 

Babe, let me just tell you, I can drink in your scent for days. An intoxicating mix of Sandalwood and ginseng tea. Never thought a girl could get drunk by doing that, but here we are! I mean it when I say that absolutely nothing else in the world matters. Only you. There’s only….you. With every breath I take, my heart whispers your name. With every glimpse in the mirror, your eyes stare back at me. Blue, like heaven. Our heaven. Blue, like the ocean. Your ocean.

Babe, love doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings for you. Every minute, every second, my body aches to be next to yours, to touch you, to run my fingers along your warm…beautifully flawed skin. I don’t need to look at you, I know every inch, every scar, every line, every indent, every crease by heart. If there ever was anything more exquisitely made before you, babe, you completely passed that bar. The way your muscles bunch and stretch as you move, fluid and stone all at once. 

No matter how far apart we are from each other, I will always love you. You are my home, my rock, my soul. I love you, Leonardo. Always and Forever. 

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Go check out my book! It's available in paperback and Kindle version!

#tmnt fan fic #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt master splinter #AO3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #ao3 tags #fanfic #tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt raphael #Platform 18 #FLUX SAGA #I love Leo #I love Raph #LeoandRaphsSoulmate #Aliens #xenomorph #alien #The expanse #james holden #chrisjen avasarala #naomi nagata #bobbie draper

[kiaratheronappreciationweek]

KTAW 2023 - Masterlist

(this beautiful poster is the work of our host @sazanes!)

DAY 1 - ART & LITERATURE/WINE

Art and Literature

Edit

Quote Edit by @storyofmychoices

Fanfic

The Stolen Interview by @twinkleallnight

Wine

Art

Funny How People Are A Bit Like Wine by @sazanes

Fanfic

Batalla del Vino by @lizzybeth1986

DAY 2 - POLYGLOT

Art

Kiara's Eclectic Playlist by @sazanes

Fanfic

Loving a Polyglot by @twinkleallnight

Headcanon

Headcanons: Kiara the Polyglot by @lizzybeth1986

The Languages Kiara Knows by @mand-delemonde

DAY 3 - AROUND THE WORLD

Art

Kiara Strikes A Pose On Travel by @cassiopeiacorvus

Beach Extravaganza by @sazanes

Fanfic

Around the (Stamping) World by @twinkleallnight

Moodboard

Moodboard and Character Appreciation by @angelasscribbles

DAY 4 - HOME/FAMILY

Family

Fanfic

Wordlessly by @lizzybeth1986

Second Born by @dcbbw

Ours by @mand-delemonde

Home

Art

Bedtime Reading with Maman by @sazanes

Fanfic

Home Is Where My Family Is by @twinkleallnight

DAY 5 - ROMANCE/FRIENDSHIP/THROWBACK

Relationships

Art

First Waltz: Hana x Kiara by @sazanes

Fanfic

Boxing with God (WIP)/KTAW WIPs (synopses) by @dcbbw

Moodboards

Kiara x Hana: Winter Romance by @lizzybeth1986

Throwback

Fanfic

Fashion Faux Pas by @lizzybeth1986

Once Upon A Time: Rashad, Kiara and Noah by @twinkleallnight

If Only...For the Night by @bebepac

--

Once again, we thank everyone who was part of this week, especially to our wonderful contributors who gave their heart and soul to these amazing pieces we have here. We're so incredibly proud of the content we got, and we urge everyone to check each and every piece on this masterlist. The range of topics here and the number of ways Kiara and her background were explored is unbelievable.

Even though the week is over, we are still open for content. If you'd like to send some that you'd intended for KTAW 2023, do tag us! Here are the list of themes! And here is last year's masterlist: KTAW 2022!

Check out every piece listed here... they're all such beautiful explorations of Kiara as a character, and please do pass on lots of love to our wonderful contributors who made this week so vibrant!!

See you all in 2024!

#kiara theron #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #KTAW 2023 #masterlist #KTAW masterlist #KTAW 2023 Masterlist

[bitbybitwrites]

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - Recipe and Song list - Chp 10, 11 and 12

Here is the music/recipe wrap-up for chapters 10, 11, 12

You can see the info under the cover art by @datshitrandom

Some spoilers are below, so if you'd like to read the fic first, click here

Click below for the recipe and song lists for:

Chapters 1, 2 and 3, Chapters 4, 5 and 6, Chapters 7, 8 and 9

To see the YouTube playlist for the fic, click here.

Chapter 10

Mood music/Music in the chapter

That wasn't me.  I liked tea parties, making soufflés and petit fours, and belting out show tunes. 

Soufflé (you know if it's Kurt, it's gonna be a rum chocolate one!)

Click here for the recipe: WARM CHOCOLATE RUM SOUFFLE WITH CHOCOLATE SAUCE

I shared what I thought would have been Elizabeth Hummel's petit four recipe in chapter one. Here are a couple of other recipes I can see Kurt making.

Chapter 11

Mood music

Kurt laughed at Blaine as they stepped out of the taxi in front of the Chinese restaurant where Mike’s party was being held.  Red bags in hand, Blaine was practically bounding on the tips of his toes in excitement. “What has gotten into you?”  Kurt asked, marveling at the enormous grin plastered on the other man’s face. “Kurt, “ Blaine had this incredulous look on his face as he addressed him.  “Have you never been to Jing Fong before?” “Um, no?” “Wait, wait . . or had dim sum, like ever?”

The mention of Julliard again started to make Kurt's pulse race.  He quickly selected a bao (pork bun)  from one of the bamboo steamer baskets littering the table.  As he bit into it to distract himself, Kurt savored the fluffy bun and the sweet and savory pork inside. 

Brittany pulled Kurt out of Blaine’s arms and into the kitchen.  “Oooh, Kurt can you make me the pretty pink unicorn drink you made me last week?” She giggled excitedly and clapped her hands as Kurt nodded. Britany practically skipped away after Kurt as she followed him into the kitchen.

Tried to think of what Brittany would consider as a pink unicorn drink that Kurt would have made her. Here's are some ideas ( I imagine, whatever it is, the rim would be covered in pink sugar crystals or some sort of rainbow edible glitter, no?

Chapter 12

Mood music

I want to say thanks again to all the folks who have been reading along with the fic. I really appreciate your kudos, comments, and just the time you're taking out of your lives to spend with these versions of our favorite characters.

I mentioned on A03 we aren't done with these boys yet - there's more story to come. I'm just going to be a bit busy with family things and some traveling in the next few weeks, so there's going to be a little wait for chapter 13. And I think it's a good one!

I'll catch up with responding to some of your past comments as well!

See you soon!

bitbybit

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #klaine fic #klaine fanart #klaine #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #bitbybitwrites #datshitrandom #klaine prompt reverse bang 2023 #klainepromptreversebang2023 #kprb2023 #fic: if i can make your heart my home #Youtube

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

the greatest earthbender in the world!

i don't think i went as deep with this one as i did with the others, but i feel like toph might appreciate just having some bangers.

1. sleep to dream - fiona apple

this mind this body and this voice cannot be stifled / by your deviant ways

an extremely grounded song, sonically and in the imagery of feet on the ground, while also being about breaking free and refusing to be stifled. that tension of her character makes it a bit hard to find songs sometimes.

2. army of me - björk

and if you complain once more / you'll meet an army of me

toph's no-nonsense, no whining teaching style. she very much believes in being self-sufficient, to a fault.

3. song of the traveling daughter - abigail washburn

probably my fave on this playlist, and just an extremely cool song in general imo. bluegrass artist abigail washburn lived in china for a few years, and adapted a poem called the song of the traveling son to be about a traveling daughter (like herself) and set it to music. i imagine it as the soundtrack to toph's globetrotting adventures. you can read the translation on genius.com.

4. the bullpen - dessa

forget the bull in the china shop / there's a china doll in the bullpen

a recommendation from the write-in question on this uquiz i made. one of the few answers that wasn't about zuko.

5. rebel girl - bikini kill

they say she's a dyke / but i know she is my best friend, yeah

this is what i mean when i don't feel like i went as deep with this one. this is a great song, but it's kind of an obvious choice for a powerful female character playlist. toph is a dyke, though. this song is more fitting for her than, say, katara.

6. cherry bomb - the runaways

hello world, i'm your wild girl

8. paradisin' - rina sawayama

same as previous.

7. just a girl - no doubt

i'm just a girl in the world / that's all that you'll let me be / i'm just a girl / living in captivity

same as the previous two, but also it legitimately does fit toph's relationship with her parents. "i'm just a girl, all pretty and petite" - "my daughter is tiny and blind and helpless"

you say i'm misbehavin' / but i'm just a kid so save it / let me have an unforgettable time of my life

toph in "the runaway". the details in the verses don't fit, but the chorus is spot-on.

8. river road - crystal gayle

i grabbed some clothes and ran / stole five dollars from a sugar can / a twelve-year-old jailbreaker running away

obviously the bit about marrying a man doesn't fit but "twelve year old jailbreaker running away" is so toph. i first heard this song on the muppet show btw. that version doesn't apply to toph as much bc it also has a bit about coming home but it is charming.

9. glory and gore - lorde

you could try and take us / but we're the gladiators

a song about kids changing the world, with the metaphor of violence-as-spectacle. fitting for our child heroine who spent time as a pro-wrestler

10. comeback kid - sharon van etten

yeah, i'm the runaway / i'm the hardly stay / let slip away

about toph trying to come home and reconcile with her parents.

#day late for toph day. my apologies #toph #my playlists #nina's personal log #Spotify

[kirwond]

For An Eternal Euthymia - A Genshin Impact Playlist

A playlist for Genshin Impact, following characters and events for Chapter 2: Omnipresence Over Mortals.

Notes from the game. Cover art by 梨子@pixiv.

Listen at Spotify.

Even more playlists here.

Tracklist and notes below the cut.

Separated Dream - Yu-Peng Chen/HOYO-MIX

Yellow Flicker Beat - Lorde

Beidou: If you win the tournament, I'll give you a choice: Masterless Vision, or a ticket to Inazuma aboard the Alcor. Up to you.

Ship of Fools - Robert Plant

Kazuha: Perhaps one day I may come to find that all I have done is meaningless. But as a wandering samurai, I find meaning in traveling and the sprawling beauty of nature that lies along the way, while still retaining "the warrior way" in my heart.

The Sound of Silence - Disturbed

Atsuko: It doesn't feel good to speak ill of my home like this... but after spending so long under that oppressive atmosphere, I began to lose all hope for the future.

Green Eyes - Coldplay

Thoma: Father has always taught me to be a loyal and righteous man... You will certainly need me as a helper in the path you embark on in the future.

Winter - Tori Amos

Ayaka: My mother was the most incredible person... Everything about her was perfect, and I say that without exaggerating. But the moment she passed away, I realized... I couldn't hide behind my mother any longer.

Firework - Katy Perry

Yoimiya: Fireworks are probably the furthest thing from the 'eternity' that the Shogun pursues... It's something that one who has eternity in their grasp will find hard to comprehend. It is precisely because we mortals are like fleeting shadows that we need to treasure such flickers of beauty.

Control - Halsey

Raiden Shogun: Exceptions... the enemy of Eternity. You will be inlaid upon this statue.

Uprising - Muse

Thoma: The Shogun's Army is almost certainly about to issue a warrant for our arrest. There are very few parties that will be willing to shelter us... but the Resistance is an exception.

I'll Make a Man Out of You - Samuel Kim + Black Gryph0n

Gorou: On behalf of the Resistance, welcome to our ranks. I will ask Teppei here to show you around the camp first, and then dispatch you straight to the front line. If you are ready, of course.

Lady Blue - Emily Wurramara

Kokomi: The world below water is not bright and sunny like that of dry land. Still, whenever I lend myself to the deep, my heart gradually fills with a permeating sense of peace.

Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes

Scaramouche: You actually managed to find this place. Congratulations. Hah. Barely two words in and you already look like you want me dead.

Uptown Funk - Mark Ronson feat. Bruno Mars

Itto: Never let the wind get to you. Especially when you've got a killer hairstyle like mine.

Paper Planes - M.I.A.

Shinobu: We offer a wide range of services, including but not limited to transport and logistics, security, home repair, and musical performances. Please feel free to contact me if you need anything. Here's my card.

Off With Their Heads - Mori Calliope

Yae Miko: Anti-Raiden Shogun Training. I've prepared a special program, just for you... Since you've escaped certain death at her hand once already, I presume this shouldn't be more than you can handle?

Burn - Nine Inch Nails

Signora: You've got some nerve, laying your hands on me. Harbinger power has become burdensome... Await my emergence and tremble, Traveler. You have reason to be afraid.

The Darker The Weather - MISSIO

Kazuha: There will always be those who dare to brave the lightning's glow.

Look What You Made Me Do - Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox feat Kenton Chen

Ayato: Back then, I had no choice but to accept the position I was in. While I desperately looked around for powerful supporters, I endured smear campaigns and attempts to exploit me... I didn't mind what became of me, but my family... No one can be allowed to trample over my precious family.

Mystery of the Invisible - VERIDIA

Sara: I do not know whether the Shogun has finally found inner peace after protecting Inazuma over all these millennia. All I know is that however perilous the road ahead may become, I will follow her as I have always done.

Shatter Me - Lindsey Stirling/Lzzy Hale

Ei: Well then, you who would defy eternity... Time for you to enlighten me.

Step into the Light - Two Steps From Hell

Ei: The Shogun and I will closely review the Inazuma of today to find out where things currently stand... After that... I will abolish the Sakoku Decree. I am no longer pursuing an eternity defined by stasis. In which case, there is no further need to keep the nation under lock and key.

dreamy night - LilyPichu

Sayu: Hey, will you do me a favor and let me know if you see the shrine maiden coming? I'm just gonna, um... rest my eyes for a moment.

Detective Detective - Static-P

Heizou: A detective should be using their smarts to crush criminals' hopes of getting away with their crimes. So really, a true detective should never even have to touch their weapon.

Last Surprise - Lollia/RichaadEB/AmaLee

Yelan: When I'm tracking a target, I like to put psychological pressure on them. In the process of trying to shake me off, they will start to panic, bring in reinforcements, alter their plan... until eventually, they've exposed everything I need to know.

Riverside - Agnes Obel

Yuehui: While one of the miners was on a break, he suddenly noticed a few hilichurls walking his way. They seemed like they were in a daze or something... They just made a beeline for the depts of the Chasm. The strange part is that in all the time this miner has been watching the hilichurls... he's never seen any of them come back out.

Used to the Darkness - Des Rocs

Dainsleif: It sounds as if the Abyss Order plans to use this location to cleanse the hilichurls of their curse... then, they will serve as the foundation for reviving the nation of Khaenri'ah... It is the height of foolishness. I told you already that no one knows this curse better than I, having lived with it for five hundred years. There is no redemption. There is no undoing the curse. Trying to remove it by force will achieve nothing but to inflict further suffering.

Never Look Away - Vienna Teng

Halfdan: Apologies, Captain Dainsleif, Twilight Sword. Back then... I failed you, and failed to protect our people. Dainsleif: No, for five hundred years, you have faithfully done your duty. To this day, I am proud of you all.

Brand New Days - Yumi Kawamura

Yae Miko: Your ambition should be something that transcends the world below and the starry sky above. Something that shines in unison with fate itself. Perhaps the reason you do not possess a Vision is that such an ambition has yet to be engendered within you... Continue on your journey and maybe that moment will come to pass.

#genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #thoma #kamisato ayaka #yoimiya #raiden shogun #gorou #sangonomiya kokomi #scaramouche #arataki itto #kuki shinobu #yae miko #signora #kamisato ayato #kujou sara #ei #sayu #shikanoin heizou #yelan #dainsleif #halfdan

[ashwithapen]

!wip

viva la ávila

genres: young adult, coming of age, semi-autobiographical

rating: between PG-13 and R (view content warnings)

summary/blurb: After a taste of independence the previous summer, 17-year-old Ash waves goodbye to their dad at Heathrow airport and boards a plane to Spain where they travel to Ávila for two weeks of unbridled freedom with their friends from school. Two weeks, just fourteen days, and the world at their fingertips. A group of Sangria-loving, cigarette smoke-smelling idiots, and the front steps of a church might just change their life, but one question had begun haunting them from the very first night: Would they be able to retain their sobriety after eight months of being clean?

content warnings: drinking, smoking, sensual scenes

aesthetic: this vlog i made of the trip that inspired the book

status: 7.4k words, 4 parts, ongoing

read it straight from the doc

below the cut: characters, playlist, excerpts

characters:

(note: only doing the 'main' main character (the pov) because there are too many other focal characters -_-)

Ash - they/them - the point of view - bisexual, greyromantic, non-binary - aspiring teen author with an angsty few years behind them, too many thoughts, a gay past, and— a crush on a boy? - just read the first part of my pinned post/intro here lmao

playlist: ávila 2023

excerpts:

I still feel it now, you know. I still feel it, looking at pictures of you on my phone, checking Snapmap just to see if you’re out right now or at home, grieving our message history as the 24 hours come to an end and any proof that you’ve ever even known me vanishes into oblivion. Even now, I still feel it. Even now, I still think it: Ask me again.

— from part 1: "Arrival"

There were people all around me with rainbow dripping from their frames as flags, as makeup, as wristbands, as clothing, as hats, you name it. And all I knew how to do was smile, my eyes forming new creases at their corners as my cheeks stretched upward relentlessly. It was loud in my head, the same phrase of words rearranged and restrung with the same meaning every time: Know me. I am here. I am like you. Know me.  I had taken my flag off the wall back home when packing my suitcase two weeks before on a whim. I’d packed my flag in the back of my day bag that morning in Brenda’s guest room on a whim. And then, when we got caught at a junction, watching, waiting for this procession to come up and swiftly carry us away, I said something about it, as though I’d totally forgotten something so intrinsic to who I was, as if I even could.  “Oh, wait,” I said. “I’ve got a flag in my backpack.” And Isabel. She knew the right words and let them fall loose, probably not even knowing how much they meant to me in that single summer moment.  “You can wear it if you’d like.” As if it was so simple. As if there was no thought behind it. As if it was so obvious. As if I had never been 13, or 14, or 15, 16, 17. And my hands shook as I swung my bag from my back and pulled the zipper open. I pulled it out in all of its creased glory and threw it over my shoulder, fingers unpractised but still so sure of themselves as they knotted the ends around my throat, colour cascading down behind me. And in that moment, I was the freest person on the planet. 

— from part 2: "Saturday - Monday"

I went to the park that night and read my book and giggled to myself and ailed over the similarities between Elio pining for Oliver and me for Gillen. Elio sneaking into his own empty bedroom to slip on another man’s swim shorts, letting his scent waft around his head and turn him dizzy and stupid and so deeply into lust. I bit my finger overtop that page and let my mind wander back to my one purchase of Madrid. I wondered what its pale pink colour would look like between his ring-bearing fingers, how he’d hold it, if he’d be gentle. I shivered in the dark, imagining his dark eyes drinking in my body, flushed and naked and wanting. I half wished, at that moment in my fantasy, that he would be gentle, and half prayed that he wouldn’t—I knew that from him I’d want it either way.

— from part 2: "Saturday - Monday"

#get wipped lmao #ash writes #life writing #creative non-fiction #romance literature #sort of #ávila #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing

[artichow]

the bladers as sleeping at last lyrics

Gingka: “Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house, but I put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage to live without a lifeline. [...] Meanwhile, my family’s taking shelter. The sparks send fire down the wire, a countdown begins until the dynamite gives in.”   - Earth

“I guess Space and Time takes violent things, angered things and makes them kind.”  - Sun

Madoka: “Still we can’t help but to examine it, to add our question marks to periods.”   - You Are Enough

Kenta: “I talk in circles, I talk in circles, I watch for signals, for a clue. How to feel different. How to feel new, like science fiction bending truth. [...] I’ll go anywhere you want, anywhere you want me.”   - Mercury

“I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time. That the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes.”   - Saturn

Hikaru: “Still I'm pinned under the weight of what I believed would keep me safe. Show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins [...] One day I had enough of this exercise of trust I leaned in and let it hurt, let my body feel the dirt. When I break pattern, I break ground, I rebuild when I break down”   - Pluto (guys, she’s been worried all her life,, this entire song is so Hikaru)

Ryo: “ Let the years we're here be kind, be kind. Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. Settle our bones like wood over time, over time [...] Smaller than dust on this map, lies the greatest thing we have. The dirt in which our roots may grow, and the right to call it home.”   - North (this entire song is the Koma village and the Haganes it’s just so!!)

“You let me set sail with cheap wood, so I patched up every leak that I could 'til the blame grew too heavy [...] I'm only honest when it rains. An open book, with a torn out page and my inks run out. I wanna love you but I don't know how.”   - Neptune

ANOTHER ONE!! this guy has so many sad feelings and so much love he doesn’t know how to express oh boy!! “ I'll give you everything I have, I'll teach you everything I know. I promise I'll do better. I will always hold you close, but I will learn to let you go, I promise... I'll do better”   - Light

Yu: “No one can unring this bell, unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new. God knows, I am dissonance, waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune”  - Mercury

“Stitch by stitch, I tear apart. If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy.”  - Neptune

Tsubasa: “With every heartbeat I have left, I'll defend your every breath. I promise I'll do better. I will soften every edge, hold the world to its best”  - Light

Benkei: “I surrender who I've been for who you are, for nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart. If I had only felt how it feels to be yours, well, I would have known what I've been living for all along.”   - Turning pages

Kyoya: “ And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better.”   - Already Gone (i think that’s a cover? oops)

Hyoma: “ Sweetheart, you look a little tired, when did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home. Stay as long as you need. [...] I will love you without any strings attached. And what a privilege it is to love, a great honor to hold you up.”  - Two

“Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count.” - Jupiter

Ryuga: “The echo, as wide as the equator travels through a world of built up anger, too late to pull itself together now.”   - Earth  (also the song Arctic suits him very well, but it doesn’t have lyrics)

Yuki: “The night sky once ruled my imagination. Now I turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, I thought I'd never find you, I convinced myself that I would never find you. When suddenly I saw you.”   - Venus

“Infinity times infinity times infinity, Infinity times infinity times infinity times infinity. Let there be light, let there be light, let me be right.”   - Sun

Aaand that’s all I have for now, sorry if I didn’t include more characters, I took from their respective playlists where they had sleeping at last songs in (some of them were imrov but only if I had inspiration for them, yk?)

#sorry if this is too sad rfghsj #it felt good focusing on this #i love making playlists and thinking of lyrics to associate with the blorbos so this type of post is a blast #a lot of these i associate the whole song with the character but i tried to narrow it down to some lyrics #ryo's a sad bitch #arti talks #mfb #beyblade metal fusion #metal fight beyblade #sleeping at last #beyblade metal fight

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a commonplace book: may retrospective

what's up ladles and germs, i spent the month of may out of town and jumping in and out of wifi coverage, so this post is has been a long time coming!

reading brought rebecca roanhorse's black sun with me on this trip, started and finished the whole thing on various trains in france. loved the main four pov characters, didn't quite get into it until after the first third or so, but all of the details and worldbuilding were terrific. i can never get enough of a third-party perspective on a character, so seeing serapio through xiala's narration was *chef's kiss* and helped me care so much more about him than his own pov, actually. i wasn't at all convinced by the flash-forward / flash-back introduction of naranpa's situation initially (the conversation she remembers with her parents just felt stilted), but doggone it by the time we came full circle and i saw how the dramatic irony was working, i was onboard. got a kick out of trying to place the different cites around the 'crescent sea' aka gulf, which may not have been correct but was fun.excited to see book two.

honorable mention in this section to the paying guests, sarah waters, which i bought from a charity shop for £2 while visiting bath UK (also at that charity shop: a set of porcelain egg cups!!). how different life might have been if i'd been able to read sarah waters younger in life.

listening downloaded to my phone for train rides, metro rides, walks across the countryside of different countries, etc.: florence + the machine's dance fever (2022) and the eurovision 2022 playlist. i don't have developed dance fever thoughts (except that...the aesthetic for the videos/album art feels more cohesive and possibly more successful than the album? but i did like it?) but i thoroughly enjoy 'free' and 'daffodil', and there are times when 'cassandra' really does hit. apparently she worked with jack antonoff on this album; things i learned while researching this post. i wasn't swayed by the spoken moments, all that much, but 'heaven is here' is somehow captivating? 'king' remains the standout; i do in fact need my bloody sword etc.

my eurovision thoughts are that everyone should go watch the performances by serbia (konstrakta, 'in corpore sano') and norway (subwoolfer, 'give that wolf a banana'), like, right now. watch them again if you saw them live. also here's a look at the lyrics and message of 'in corpore sano,' which, yes. and my other thought is that, this year, i actually might go out and listen to the other works by a bunch of these eurovision artists, which i realize is?? probably the actual goal of the contest???

watching finished our flag means death in my buddy's hotel room in london, watched the majority of my brilliant friend: those who leave and those who stay in various hostels with @hematiterings (series thoughts in the next post!), and tried to keep up with strange new worlds when we could. this version of spock entertains me. ofmd was good, i had managed not to be spoiled for the ending.not sure i can find a comment or common thread for these three, but, shows with friends = good. especially when you're footsore and far from home. actually i do have something, showing new trek / uhura to a nontrekkie linguistics person was hilarious.

playing fallow month.

making i may not bullet journal, but i sure did accumulate a stack of interesting things to stick into a hypothetical future scrapbook of some kind. and stickers! I made some good food the week i spent in maine (lots of chicken, an eggplant stir fry that i did have to throw out when i broke the container and got glass in the leftovers, absolutely tragic)

working on this month was the month of Archives Visits so what i made were reservations and emails and notes and pictures of manuscripts. turned out okay though :D EDIT: totally forgot but while traveling i did a zoom interview for, and then found out i had gotten, a small fellowship at my institution for next year. please clap!

#up next: iclb for the first two weeks of june #in lieu of a commonplace book #weekly roundup #monthly roundup #if we’re being precise in our definition of ‘weekly’ lmao #quarterly roundup #idk man i just work here #ilcb

[moinsbienquekaworu]

RAM MY BELOVED hello hi happy Valentines (if you celebrate) hi

I just drove home while listening to my tomarry playlist and i need to tell you, i love themb so much and this song (Carnivore by Bear Attack! If the link doesnt work) is such a themb song and omg. I need to go reread love is touching souls. I need to finish typesetting it. I need to stop procrastinating buying printing materials and just bind it into a physical book. Themb.

But also, i was thinking about this fic thats currently sitting partially done in my google docs, thats endgame tomarry but currently drarry. And basic context: Harry becomes the DADA prof after a few years of being a failure of an auror and he and Ginny just finalized their divorce (nothing was Wrong Per Se, Ginny just realised shes a lesbian), and Hermione sets him up with Draco but theyre not really Great together theyre more just meh as a couple, but then Harry accidentally time travels back to 1945 (give ir take a few years) and teaches DADA during Tom's seventh year, and they get together and Harry knits Tom a Weasley sweater and etc etc etc BUT i couldnt figure out how to get them both back to The Present Day while not breaking up Harry and Draco BUT BUT BUT i realized i can just make it hella poly and itd still be cute!

Im telling you all of this as the person who got me into tomarry plus the first person i thought of when i put this playlist on, i hope this hinged-ness finds you well i love you <3

Love the idea of introducing someone else to the Tomarry relationship because we've all seen Tom and how he feels about sharing. Like I feel like any work with Tomarry + another character is like, 40% getting Tomarry together (all the Hurdles and Problems and such with those two) and then 60% Harry slowly making Tom stop hissing at whoever else because he has to share Harry with them and that's his soulmate. Yes even if he likes them too he's just Like That. He's so very not suited to polyamory, it would be extremely entertaining reading a fic trying to make it work.

I remember reading a fic back in Ye Olden Days that was a Drarry snippet with Severus looking in from the outside wishing he could be with Harry but Knowing Deep in his Soul that he was Wrong for him. I'd link it but I'm like 90% sure it was in french and I don't want to go looking through FFnet for it right now haha. Drarry just made me think of it. Oh and there was One good Drarry fic I loved, still in french, by and author who wrote banger after banger (all in french, yeah) on FFnet that introduced baby me to Supermassive Black Hole and the fact that you don't put two condoms on. It's Nothing Else Matters by Rose Malefoy if you want to look at the page and not understand the text haha (yes Malefoy with an e that's how it's spelt in french) Oh and my first Snarry was amnesiac Harry who was with Severus and forgets it so he gets into a relationship with Draco but then remembers and leaves him I think? It's been a while. I used to be into Drarry more but it's been years since I read some, since I discovered Snarry and all.

I think we should combine our poly Tomarry AUs to inflict the maximum amount of Situations on theses guys. Like throw in Draco throw in Severus and then let them take years and a lot of therapy to disentangle that mess and make a working polycule out of it. A bit like when you plop Sims in a house with full autonomy and wait for them to do something cool like starving themselves or making out with their brother's wife, except here I hope they'd figure it out and get a good ending at some point. Anyway.

Oh and in Tomarry news if you haven't tackled Draw me after you (let us run) by Toastranger you should go for it because now after about 200k words and 44 chapters Things have been Happening 👀 (I'm not subtle, they finally kissed is what happened) extremely fun fic, highly recommend once again. That said it is a time investment because I love long works

Your song rec is actually making me realise I don't have Tomarry songs? I have Obikin songs I have plenty of Snarry songs I have Johnlock songs and Kylux songs but nothing for these two. Ah well. I mean I guess The bog in the valley by the Irish Rovers is kind of a Harrymort song because it's a part of Dark Livestream but that's not very Tomarry specific. OH WAIT NO I do!! In the Daylight Again by Duplicity is named after a line from Salt and the Sea by the Lumineers so. One (1) Tomarry song. Good fic too, I can't make myself rereading it because it hurts my feelings :(( but it's really good

Cool song you got though! I've added it to my current playlist, love finding songs through other people and associating them to random stuff like that.

Anyway love you hope you have a good evening come back whenever you want <3

#also did you see. i'm going to the uk next year!!!!! #i need to say it to everyone i'm so fucking happy right now #i'm going.... i'm going! #and i'll send you a postcard <3 #very unrelated #this actually got me thinking about the forgotten tom/harry/severus au thing #like originally i couldn't decide if i wanted it to be omegaverse or not so it had omegaverse elements but i ended up dropping it #too busy y'know #i just love the combo of tom Jealousy riddle severus Insecurity snape and harry Make-a-fucking-effort potter :'))) #put them all in the same room and watch them suffer etc etc #i'm soooo not a multishipper though most of the time so my vision of the characters is influenced by that #this is just making me think about the island time travel tomarry #like it must be in my reclist from last time so i won't give it again because i forget the title and i don't wanna go lookig for it rn #but yeah. #ANYWAY. #wow i have an asks tag now #fandom nerdery

[lowstakesdilemma]

Braving the elements, all alone.

Hi, I hope you're having a beautiful day!

I'm new to tumblr, recently moved here from reddit, where I spent my days as a lurker. I thought to myself: let's expand some horizons. Tumblr seemed like a cozy place to share my ideas, so here we are.

Along with the decision to move came the inspiration to make some ttrpg characters, and in a fun way: by making a character for each song in my ever-growing Spotify playlist. I know I won't cover them all, but if something strikes me as interesting, I want to explore it. If I get the chance to improve my awful drawing skills, that's a nice bonus.

I don't know whether to make a separate post explaining all this, so for now let's just do the introductions here: this will not be a blog about optimizing dnd characters. 5e is a system very close to my heart (which sucks considering half of my players hate it passionately), so most oc's I post will likely be made using its framework (no homebrew, but all the official books are fair game), but as with pretty much all character ideas, they are fairly universal and can be adapted to many other systems. Additionally, I probably could optimize them - I'm not opposed to min-maxing, after all, but I think it's very liberating sometimes to actually try making sub-optimal characters. If you're good at the game (besides roleplaying, I'm just talking about combat here), it should pose an interesting challenge.

Gods, this post is so long already.

But we're finally getting to the actual topic. Today's song, for no particular reason, is The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man by MISSIO. I won't post the song lyrics, I'll just assume you either don't care or looked them up. If, in any of these posts, the song is on your playlist, please let me know, I won't feel as lonely in this sad world.

Our adventurer is Vishara, the Kalashtar (not really) Wizard. Let's start with her

Backstory

Vishara comes from a long lineage of warlocks living in the snowy tundra, employing the help of fiends and fey to fend off the freezing temperatures. From a very young age, she was the target of jealousy among her siblings, being treated by their grandfather as a prodigy, while rejecting the idea of selling her soul for power. She began studying the school of evocation, wanting to sever her family's dependence on the devilish magic. Once mother found out, she sent her away to study magic in the big city, protecting Vishara from her relatives.

At the academy, Vishara turned out to be a mediocre wizard at best, clearly showing the potential unique to her blood, yet not utilising it. The teachers were confused, but turned a blind eye to it, and let her pass a few years out of pity. She didn't care, and spent countless nights cramming the spell formulas, memorising the names of great wizards and witches. She made some friends, who recognised her for her kind soul, and after a few misadventures, forged a tight bond. Their group became known in the nearby villages as The Wands of Loyalty, beacuse even though they could physically be snapped in half like twigs, their camraderie proved unbreakable.

After obtaining the diplomma she wanted, Vishara said goodbye to the Wands and went back to her family home, having honed magic potent enough to melt the ice endangering any travelers. As a parting gift, the Wands gave her a robe with cantrip formulas written on it, and a few basic spell sigils woven into the fabric.

The journey was long, and even though Vishara could protect herself from harm, her frail body was tested to its limits. Upon finally arriving, she saw the family stronghold empty, devoid of life, and filled with corpses. She rushed over to her mother's room, only to find it empty and suspiciously clean, with the only thing out of place being a weird amulet she always saw her mom wear.

With a storm of questions boiling in her head, and no answers in sight, she was struck dumb, unable to form any response. That's when she felt it. The creeping chill. She heard the whisper, one her grandfather taught her to listen to, promising power, and information. A lonely spirit, just like her. Drawn to her inner flame, wanting to corrupt it. This was how Vishara met her new mentor.

Mechanics

Vishara is not really a Kalashtar. She could be anything from a human to an elf, it doesn't matter. We choose the Kalashtar race to represent Vishara's mentor - the being attached to her, the literal devil on her shoulder (well, it can be a fey or undead, but the point still stands). It protects her mind from outside interference ("it's occupied, dammit! Find your own mortal to possess!"), but sends her dreams of death and bitter cold, warning her that they will come true if she doesn't accept the deal, blah, blah blah. If the DM's cool, the Mind Link ability might also be the spirit, and we have to ask them to convey a message to someone. Pretty cool, right?

For stats, using the standard array, I'd pick something like this: 8 STR, 10 DEX, 12 (13) CON, 15 (17) INT, 14 WIS, 13 CHA. Vishara is a wizard, first and foremost, so the intelligence is a must. It can be a bit lower if you want to roleplay the 'bad wizard' thing, but we do want to help our party, not hinder it. The wisdom getting a 14 justifies our refusal to dabble with infernal powers, and possibly opens up the way to becoming a cleric, which might be appropriate. The charisma is our bloodline, and of course setting up a possible giving-in-to-temptation moment and multiclassing to warlock. The physical stats represent the fact that we're a wizard and we'll die from an average slap to the face.

As a character

Possible plot hooks for the DM: - A letter arrives, signed as Vishara's mother. - The remnants of her family come, seeking revenge, thinking it was Vishara that killed their relatives - The tundra is getting colder by the day. Someone should investigate, it may be a curse - Who made the first deal in the family? What was it about, and did it condemn all their children to being soulless? -A member of the Wands appears, they need help. Now.

As an NPC

Possible quests to give: - Escort her to a temple in the middle of the tundra, maybe lift the curse? - Vishara attacks the party, thinking it was them that killed her family. Who sent her on the party's trail? - The nearby magic academy has lost it's headmaster in a tragic fireball-related accident. Nobody wants to take up his mantle, so the staff hires the party to find a graduate for the position.

Loot: - The coat with spell formulas written on it. It can be just a fancy spell focus, or maybe a multi-spell scroll, or just a coat with Glyphs of Warding. What's their trigger? Who knows.

The song relevance (imho)

The first thing that comes to my mind when listening to this song is 'loneliness'. The way the singer pronounces "Distant", and the music backing him, is just... surreal, evoking a scene of drowning in an ocean, slowly, as your vision grows darker and darker. I know the opinion of "edgy character bad", but it's such a shallow take I won't even try to refute it here. I'll just say, complicated characters make for compelling stories, and tragedies complicate things really well. The surrealness also plays nicely into Vishara's dreams, which this passage could be all about.

The pre-chorus sets the scene just as well, giving us an easy setting for most of Vishara's story.

The chorus breaks the subtlety, shielding itself with only a metaphor from being taken literally, word for word. It's filled with anger, and hope at the same time, which isn't that easy to pull off for one, and makes for great material in the gym. Determination. Theoretically we don't need to make a character to say this part to (like I did with the devil), but it's just such a perfect quote for a warlock in the making, that I couldn't resist. I love the class so much.

The second verse is less connected to Vishara, but, interestingly enough, I think the third and fourth lines are fantastic characterizations of her to-be patron, who (at least in my version) latches onto this mortal not to hurt them, but to connect to them.

Alright, that should be everything. If you made it this far, let me just officially say: feel free to use anything you found here in your games.

May you and your friends' calendars align!

#5e #ttrpg character #ttrpg art #dungeons and dragons #rpg #fantasy #dming #dnd

[aworldforastage]

my first danmei playlist -- part 3: songs from the "musical audiodramas"

[see more in this series are under the tag #my first danmei playlist]

[Link go to the song's page/player on Mao'er]

OST Overkill: 君有疾否/Jun You Ji Fou

JYJF is one of my favorite danmei novels. The political plot has its weaknesses, but the audiodrama made up for it with amazing musical production. I made myself pick just three or I'd make at least two posts just for this drama.

落于江山一处白/"Falls somewhere as a speckle of light" by 易言, from 君有疾否/Jun You Ji Fou, Season 1

飞笺摧成雪，循风吹至来 落于江山一处白 floating letters dissolve into snow, are carried here by the wind falls somewhere as a speckle of light

Like with most songs from this drama, I'm hooked more by the music than the actual lyrics. The lyricists are trying very hard to write poetic lyrics, but the more complex the lyric, the more difficult it is to understand while listening!

多情雪/"Passionate Snow" by 陈在野, from 君有疾否/Jun You Ji Fou, Season 2

纵有热忱满捧 万般情浓， 不必惊觉 知与我心同 天灯亮夜，飞遍相思城 Even full of sincerity, with intense passion, Do not be surprised to learn that my heart is the same. Lanterns have lit up the sky, flying all over this city of our love.

This is the music playing in the background during yet another memorable lantern-wish scene, which is super bittersweet in context.

"First wish is for a prosperous nation; second wish is for the security of the people; third wish is for the my love to be happy and safe, and be well in all the years to come"

折花也！/"Picking Flowers!" by 马正阳、陈张太康 from from 君有疾否/Jun You Ji Fou, Season 2

折去江南满涧花，雪上蜀郡好还家。 Pick all the flowers along the rivers of Jiangnan, return home when snow has reached the Shu county.

This is song part of the post-finale special, and the lyrics refer to the characters traveling the land after their "retirement." It's a duet with both main voice actors, and it felt extra special to hear it the character's voices sing about their happy-ever-after.

Canonical Hits: 小行星/Little Asteroid

The love interest in Little Asteriod is an in-universe pop star. Voice actor 景向谁依 record several songs for this role. Given my personal taste, the novels is an "ok but not fantastic" kind of read, but I really enjoyed the music it put out -- feels like the kind of Cpop I liked growing up.

行星/"Planets" by 景向谁依, from 小行星, Little Asteroid, Season 1

环绕一个星河内的圆 轨道固定为亿万年 无法阻止想再靠近你一点 Transiting through a spiral galaxy In an orbit that has been fixed for trillions of years Can't stop me from wanting to be even closer to you

Your typical romantic ballad, but I'm always unreasonably enthusiastic about celestial references: very on-brand for this novel.

在你之后/"After You" by 景向谁依, from 小行星, Little Asteroid, Season 1

在你之后 / 我无法为谁停留 After you left / I cannot stay for anyone else

the angsty break-up song. If it's not obvious yet, it will be by the time I finish these posts that I'm just a sucker for this kind of music.

喜欢你/"I Like You" by 景向谁依, from 小行星, Little Asteroid, Season 2

喜欢你目光 像雪后暖阳 I like your eyes on me, feels like warm sun after snow

the happy "I'm in love" pop song. It's like a cute little puppy wagging it's tail in front of you, but in song form. Just so cute and happy!

#my first danmei playlist #君有疾否 #Jun You Ji Fou #jyjf #小行星 #Little Asteroid #song rec #audiodrama music #danmei music