Iiiiiiiiiiii - Tumblr Posts

help my heart is BURSTING ohhhhh

i thought i could handle those two prompts together and oh BOY was i wrong 🥹😭😂 (in the absolute best way i love this so much) this is oh so sweet and soft and lovely and !!!!!

the silence after HAD ME BY THE THROAT THOUGH i’ll tell you oh i was like oh no oh no oh no oh no it’s out there and what if he just smooshes her heart into the floor what will we all do then i simply don’t know

but then he didn’t and iiiiiiiiiiii 😭

this was so excellent my heart is so full 🥰🥰

i am also in love with my best friend and will also never tell them BUT i will live vicariously through this reader because wow 💖✨🥰

hello hello!!!!! ooooh for the 1k drabble requests: would love to see our lovely jimin, #12 and #70, and fluff, smut, or whatever you’re feeling!!!

i may or may not (absolutely did) have based this off real life experience. except instead of a sad and miserable ending, i made it happy. thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy. 💜 again, unedited

Masterlist | AskBox | Coffee? | Patreon

pjm x reader | just some cute fluff and a dash of angst | 1,003 words | pg15 | Honey blonde Jimin, some kissy kissy, I lived out the first half of this.

You shouldn’t be here. You should have gotten a rideshare home or taken the bus. You should not have gotten in Jimin’s car. You should not have let him drive you home where you both are now sitting in his car in front of. 

And you should not be even considering saying what you want to say, what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.

You’ve had a crush on your best friend since high school. But of course, you never said anything. You’d rather live in a world where the fear of rejection is greater than the fear of watching him be with someone else. 

And boy, did you. You watched him fall in love many times, and watched the heartbreak that resulted after as well. He rushed to you after every single one, though. And that alone was enough to get you by. 

But you went out with a group of friends tonight. Where he was constantly next to you, touching you, smiling at you with that beautiful smile that makes his eyes essentially disappear. And you had too much to drink. So you ended up in the bathroom with your friend, resting your head on her shoulder while crying about how much it hurts that you can’t tell him about your feelings. 

The problem is, however, your friend is an enabler. And drunkenly advised you to just tell him. 

The worst he can say is no. 

She repeated that godforsaken phrase many times until you finally decided you’d do it…another day. 

But he noticed how drunk you were and insisted on giving you a ride home. And you idiotically agreed, thinking this was a great opportunity. Maybe he’ll return your feelings and kiss you and you’ll live happily ever after. 

The drive home was quiet. You let the window down to allow the cool wind to help you sober up just enough to realize how stupid this plan was as he parked in front of your apartment. 

“Need help getting to your apartment?” His voice was sweet, genuinely concerned about your safety. 

You love him. 

Again, you stupidly agree to the help, wanting just a bit more time with him. He jumps out of the car, running around to your side to open the door and help you out. You’re sober enough to walk on your own, but he still holds onto you, his hand safely on your waist, the other holding your purse and heels. 

When you finally approach your door, he lets you dig in your purse for your keys, sticking them in but leaving them hanging as you replay your friend’s stupid advice. 

The worst he can say is no.

“Hey, Jimin?” You question, looking down at his feet. 

“Hmm?” 

“I… I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified…? Is…is that okay?” 

Nothing. 

Silence. 

Never ending silence. 

Turns out there is something worse than him saying no. That would be literally not speaking. 

After what feels like eons of silence, you can feel the tears building behind your eyes. So you take the key out of the lock, open your door, and grab the purse and heels out of his hand. 

“Okay. Message received. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Pretend this never happened. Thanks for the ride home, I can cover the gas if needed. Goodnight.” You rush through your words, not allowing yourself to look up at the man who just fully rejected you without saying a word. You rush into your apartment, slamming the door closed and locking it, resting your forehead against the door and sighing. 

You hear his feet walk away from your door and sink down against the wall trying not to scream as the tears finally fall. You stay there, curled up on the floor, regretting every decision you’ve ever made for about fifteen minutes when there’s three hard knocks on your door. 

“Y/n, open the door, please.” Jimin’s voice strains as he knocks again. You slowly get up, wipe the tears off your face with the sleeve of your jacket, and open the door. 

“Please, don’t come back to make fun of me. I regret saying anything at all earlier and I jus—” 

“Can I kiss you?” The words quickly stumble out of his mouth, his eyes wide. 

“Can you…what?” 

“Kiss you. Can I kiss you?” He steps closer, hands cradling your face, “please?”

You’re in too much a state of shock, so you slightly nod, and suddenly his lips are on yours. One hand leaves your face to hold your waist and the other slides to the back of your neck, keeping you close. 

It’s fucking magic kissing him. His full lips on yours, moving perfectly in sync with you as his tongue teases the seam of your lips, begging for entry. And just who are you to deny that? 

His tongue slides past your lips and you feel weak, your fingers tangling in his beautiful honey blonde hair. You tug his hair a little harder than intended, resulting in him groaning as he pulls away, resting his head on your shoulder. 

It’s silent again, except for you both panting, until he finally speaks again. 

“I have been wanting to do that for years.” He finally says with a faint chuckle.

What?

“Oh?” Is the only response you can come up with, hands sliding down to his forearms. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you with a smile. 

“Y/n, I know I’m in love with you and I’ve only been terrified of you rejecting me.” He places a soft kiss on your nose, grinning at your smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It was just sudden and a shock and I didn’t know if you were still drunk and I jus—”

“Do you wanna come inside and kiss me again?” You say, a little louder than intended, but with no shame. 

“Very much so, please.” He grabs your face again, guiding you back into your apartment. 

if there is one thing that studying linguistics and creative writing has taught me, it is that not only should you write however the fuck you want to, but you should honor and celebrate people who do, as well.

and this is not to say that you should break all the rules and make art that is convoluted and hard to follow. by all means, study and know the rules, and figure out which to bend and break in your own style. strive to write in ways that still clearly communicate, but learn the ebb and flow of your own heart and mind, and sort out to translate it effectively.

don't bash and look down on others who may not seem to know all the rules.

for some, breaking the rules is an active form of resistance.

if your prose is poetic, lean into it. if the flow of someone's writing makes you dizzy, get lost it. sweep and be swept away.

dialects and accents are beautiful and valuable, and they deserve to be celebrated. write in your dialect and accent if that is what makes you happy. be open to others doing the same.

language is so fucking cool, and sharing it in the form of storytelling is something that is so ancient and important to humans, and i just think we should do more to cultivate and cherish the idea of people doing whatever the fuck they want and writing in ways that make them happy.