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planetkiimchi-rbs · 16 hours ago

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i wish i didn't have to go to school today so i could curl up in my room and read all your fics like a christmas fic binge :(( but !! i'm so glad that it's FINALLY HERE (i've been waiting for this since june you don't even know)

full fic analysis under cut bc i rambled again :( but i finished reading this and i just. i love it so much??? the idea was so good and it was so well executed i can't imagine a better writer to write minghao this specific way. <33

For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.

hell-O what happened to good morning ?? y/n really came into this fic like an ethereal being

"Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

this sentence set the stage for such a beautiful analogy of people being like flowers... also minghao's SO insightful ugh 😩😩

You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now.

aww that's so cute!! love how y/n slowly gets more comfortable w hao ☹️☹️

the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.

people who stick their tongue out the side of their mouth when they concentrate >>> it's such a lovable trait

And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.

no why is this the PERFECT fic for hao and his patient, transcending calm????

The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with.

THIS LINE !!

"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."

i love how he doesn't deny comparing people to flowers in general cuz somehow that is exactly what minghao is? like a guy who sometimes is a little on the sidelines simply because he enjoys perceiving other people a bit too much

The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders

NOO THIS SENTENCE 😭😭 absolute poetry how do people even come up with these ??

I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."

this is an amazing choice honestly the lotus is soo beautiful & strong (also i like the way lotus roots taste) and it's so minghao!!!

Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"

if someone said this to me i'd be folding on the spot bro like just confess already??

"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."

rania and her lovely writing style of putting unsaid words in italics in between 🤩🤩 i love how distinctive it makes your writing

Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.

oh GOSH the sorrow? so beautifully portrayed

The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning. "I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."

this fic is my other roman empire (this and moni's "finger trapped (ripped to its seams)")

His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.

this whole paragraph healed me.

Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.

holy shit. this line touched a part of me so raw that i didn't even know existed

caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k

notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha

Minghao likes these kinds of days.

Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.

Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.

Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.

He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.

The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.

The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.

Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.

Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.

"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"

You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.

"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."

Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.

He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.

"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"

"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.

"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."

You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."

Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.

"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."

He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.

"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."

You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.

"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."

"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.

"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."

There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.

"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."

You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.

It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.

"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.

A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.

"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.

"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.

Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.

He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.

"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.

You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.

"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.

When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.

Y/N, he repeats in his mind.

"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.

You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.

"It's on the house."

You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."

You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."

Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.

But you're smiling, so he smiles back.

"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."

As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.

"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."

"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."

The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.

It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.

And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.

Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.

The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.

When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.

After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.

When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.

"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.

Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"

"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."

Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.

"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"

You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.

"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."

This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.

"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"

His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.

"The date didn't go well at all, actually."

Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."

You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."

The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.

After a long pause, you finally break the silence.

"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."

Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.

"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."

You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.

"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."

You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"

"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."

The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.

"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."

Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."

For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.

"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"

Minghao just nods. "Sure."

From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.

"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."

You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.

"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."

Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.

"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."

You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.

"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."

"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.

"Yes, please. Thank you."

After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.

As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.

"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."

Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.

There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."

A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.

"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.

Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."

"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."

"Take all the time you need."

And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.

He was blooming, too.

"Do you have a favourite flower?"

The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.

"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."

The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.

"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."

"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."

The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.

"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."

You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.

"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."

Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."

You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"

Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."

You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.

"Are you flirting with me right now?"

However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.

Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."

"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"

Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.

There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.

"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.

"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"

"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.

He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.

"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."

You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.

"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.

Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.

The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.

"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"

You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.

"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"

"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.

The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."

You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"

With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.

The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.

"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."

You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."

Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.

"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.

Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"

"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."

Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.

Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"

Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.

But... does it bother you?

"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"

"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."

You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.

"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.

Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."

"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."

This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.

"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"

You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"

Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.

"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."

When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.

"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.

As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.

"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."

"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."

Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.

When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.

Minghao hates seeing flowers die.

The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.

The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.

The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.

He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.

"Y/N?"

There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.

"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"

Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.

"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.

"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"

The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.

"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."

With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.

"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."

It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.

You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.

"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.

Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.

"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.

None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.

Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.

"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.

You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."

Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.

The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.

You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.

"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"

"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."

You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.

His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.

But then he stops himself.

He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.

But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.

Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.

"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."

You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.

"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."

Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"

"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."

Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.

So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.

"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."

Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.

"Minghao..."

"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."

There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.

"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"

The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.

"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."

The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.

You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.

"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.

Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.

"I know," is all he says.

The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.

Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.

You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.

The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.

It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.

He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.

So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.

It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.

But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.

Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.

Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.

As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.

And when he looks up, he freezes.

"I'm not late, aren't I?"

It's you.

The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.

"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.

"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."

Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.

"Have you been busy?" You ask him.

"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."

"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"

Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.

"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."

You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.

"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."

Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.

"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.

"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."

Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.

"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."

You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."

Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.

"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.

You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.

However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.

"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.

Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.

He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.

His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."

His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.

And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.

This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.

He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.

Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.

"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."

A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"

"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."

"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.

Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@planetkiimchi @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @gigification @ahuiahoe

@svtficsarchive @lllucere @flipflopscrop

#rania 🪴#seventeen #the8 #🏷️ — fic recs

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astrallytadpoled · 3 days ago

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Companion Underwear Tier List

Do you know how hard it was to put this together? Did I at any point think I'd be sitting here overthinking underpants? No. Never. I hope all my teachers are proud of me!

Underwear was assessed based on FOUR criteria: sex appeal, description, bulge/clam protection, and bondage appeal.

Are you ready for the break down? Of course you are.

More under the cut!

First up, Lae'zel.

Sex appeal: That is quite the sexy underwear. It being leather means everything is swampy down there, though. BUT that would be a perk for some of you heathens. 9/10 Description: Built for function rather than fun. What? Have you SEEN that thing? Imagine the wedgies you get trying to fight in it! 6/10 Bulge/clam protection: It covers the most important bits, and it's leather, but enough is uncovered that a direct groin hit would hurt 6/10 Bondage Appeal: Leather? Straps? Tie me up, mommy. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/40, or 78% or C

Shadowheart:

Sex appeal: They're a nicely made matching set of underwear 8/10 Description: If pants could brood… Absolutely fucking hilarious 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Material seems weak, and it doesn't provide good coverage 6/10 Bondage appeal: Pretty generic mildly sexy underwear with a bit of an edge. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/50 or 77% or C

Astarion:

Sex appeal: It's Astarion I'd be eaten alive if I don't give this a 10/10 Description: Embroidered into the cloth: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.' Made me laugh out loud irl, so 10/10. Bonus 5 points since he embroidered them himself (effort wins points from me ok) Bulge/clam protection: Look it's cloth. No protection there. And it shows his butt wrinkles (+2 for butt wrinkles) 6/10 Bondage appeal: Generic tighty-not-whities do with them what you will. 6/10 FINAL SCORE: 37/40 or 92% or A

Gale:

Sex appeal: Sorry, Gale. That waist. 7/10 Description: Energy crackles around these. Gale wouldn't… Surely he didn't enchant his… Description? Funny. 10/10. But one has to wonder what sort of enchantment he went for. Prestidigitation? Or some sort of temperature control? A smart man would go for prestidigitation. Extra 7 points for the enchantment. Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth, but he's got good coverage going AND they're magic9/10 Bondage appeal: Who likes shorts? Are shorts bondage-able? 3/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Wyll

Sex appeal: Bonus for cut, but I gotta ding you for the drawstring. Sorry, Wyll. 6/10 Description: Long may these gird the Blade of Frontiers. Yes, yes, we know. You're the Blade of Frontiers. Makes it sound they're his only pair of underpants, too! 5/10 Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth. Do you think Mizora protects his bulge in any way? I doubt it. 3/10 Bondage appeal: They're white underpants. 2/10 FINAL SCORE: 16/40 or 40% or D

Karlach

Sex appeal: It's Karlach, she's by default hot. Look at the cut! The straps! 9/10 Description: How do these not burn off? THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION, GAME, and now I'm wondering too. 9/10 Bulge/clam protection: Coverage is not that great BUT, they can take the heat. They should probably grant some sort of fire immunity or something. Larian, fix this. 8/10 Bondage appeal: They look pretty bondage-y, but also Mama K. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 33/40 or 82% or B

Halsin

Sex appeal: To be honest it looks like he's wearing something a size too small, Halsin, hun, give your crotch room to breathe. 6/10 Description: Why does it smell like a herb garden? So at least we know he keeps it clean? Unless HE smells like a herb garden… have you considered that? 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Keeping everything close and tight to minimize damage. Genius. 9/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. Halsin provides the vines. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 35/40 or 87% or B

Jaheira

Sex appeal: The mesh-y vest-y look on the bra, hello? 9/10 Description: Embroidered with little ducks. ….WAIT A MINUTE is that why Halsin likes ducks?! 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Not very protective, but she goes cougar mode anyway (yes I know it's a panther, I just need that joke in there) 8/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. But she's got to be in charge. 9/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Minsc

Sex appeal: It is Minsc 10/10 Description: Tight, aerodynamic, and built for maximum breathability. Humidity is no friend to hamsters. MINSC PLEASE DO NOT PUT HAMSTERS IN YOUR UNDERPANTS. THINK OF LEMMIWINKS 1/10 Bulge/clam protection: No protection, the hamster is a liability 2/10 Bondage appeal: Lemmiwinks 1/10 FINAL SCORE: 14/40 or 35% or F

Minthara

Sex appeal: It is Minthara 15/10 Description: Woven with as much toughened cobweb as cloth. It is an evocative mental image 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Spidersilk stronk, but coverage could be better 7/10 Bondage appeal: It is Minthara 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 42/40 or 105% or S

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artificiallita · 2 days ago

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i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???

(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)

working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.

- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.

- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.

- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.

- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.

- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.

- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’

- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.

- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)

and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool fanart #deadpool #lady deadpool #ladypool #Wade Wilson #x men #x men fanart #digital illustration #digital art #butch wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #lesbian deadpool #f!deadpool #rule 63 #marvel fanart #genderswap

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hyperdramas · 1 day ago

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1-800-got-stress | jeon wonwoo

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

warnings: non-idol au, college/professor au, slight romance (?), english professor wonwoo x teacher's assistant reader, tiny sprinkles of humor, one-sided crush (?), wonwoo is very dense when it comes to reader's romantic feelings (not really though), reader still loves him anyways, cute ending??

now playing: return of the mack, mack morrison

dedicated to: @k1eev (<3)

"After the lecture, I want you all to come see my assistant before you leave. She has the next module printed out and organized for you all." Wonwoo's deep voice is the next thing you hear once you snap back into reality, and many of the college student's eyes dart away from you as you look around, more than likely aware of how long you've been gaping at the English professor.

Jeon Wonwoo was the person always on your mind now—ever since you started as his teacher's assistant earlier this month, you've always been thinking about him.

He was everything you weren't—calm, professional, disciplined and put-together. He knew what to say and how to say it, and what to do and how to do it—you were ninety-nine percent convinced that there was nothing Wonwoo couldn't do.

Not only was he annoyingly perfect at his job, but he was annoyingly handsome too—he was handsome to a massive amount of people, students and other professors included. He had sharp eyes that seemed to grow even sharper with the perfect amount of tiredness, and hard-edged features that you had memorized now with how much you had stared at him when he worked.

Time went slow as Wonwoo talked, deep voice echoing through the lecture hall as he gave his presentation on the deeper story of Romeo and Juliet, asking his class questions as he gaged their attention span.

You thought about how nervous you would feel under Wonwoo's gaze. Your face just heated up at it, imagining how you wouldn't be able to look him in the face without feeling completely inadequate.

It was already hard for you to look him in the face, and you were his personal assistant.

"Please finish the last essay I assigned at the beginning of the month. Since we're starting a new module this Friday, I want everyone to be on the same page." Wonwoo's voice was monotonous as students started to pack their things, and you placed the stack of module papers on the desk, letting the students grab and go.

The class filtered out slowly, some staying behind to ask Wonwoo questions and garner advice from him. You watched them quietly, straightening the closet as you dipped in and out of their conversations.

You had just heard another professor enter the room, asking Wonwoo to go out with her tonight for a drink, (to which he politely refused), when Wonwoo had addressed you.

"Are you doing alright? You've looked really tired today." Wonwoo's thick, stern eyebrows are flat as he stares at you blankly, and you try to read his sharp eyes for any flicker of emotion for a quick second, giving up as you give him an awkward smile.

"Oh, I'm fine, Mr. Jeon. I'm not even tired—just a bit distracted, that's all." You reassure him, and Wonwoo nods, looking down at his watch as you finish straightening up your desk.

"You should get some rest. It's not good for you to be tired and trying to assist me, is it?" Wonwoo has a faint smile on his lips when he says this, and you try not to blush or melt under his hot gaze against your skin, fiddling with your collar awkwardly as you nod.

"Here, let me help you with those." Wonwoo's voice is directed to the stack of heavy books teetering on the end of your desk. You nod to him gratefully, allowing him to pick them up as you walk to the other side of the room, unlocking the storage closet door.

He held the books without strain, face still as he waited for you to finish putting your share of books down. Wonwoo followed you, cologne wafting in the air and drifting under your nose as he turned off the lights.

"Thank you for today. You did very well." Wonwoo's voice was sweet as he smiled at you, and you returned the gesture stiffly, making your way back to the desk as you grabbed your things.

"Of course, Mr. Jeon. You did well too, I mean—you did well with the lectures and everything. You teach everything in such a fresh way, it's tough for anyone to not be compelled or interested in what you're teaching." You were a sucker for Jeon Wonwoo, and it was starting to show more and more now—how were you supposed to be normal about him?

"It takes a lot to make the lecture engaging and informative, so I'm glad you think that of me. Many students call me the boring teacher." Wonwoo's voice is lighthearted as he finishes straightening up his desk, and you chuckle, mostly at the absurdity of his words.

"You're quite the opposite of a boring teacher, in my opinion. Your stories and explanations are way more animated than the textbooks could be." Were you showering your superior-turned-crush with embellished compliments? Yes. Did you want him to notice?

...Not really.

"You sure do have a lot to think about me, don't you?" Wonwoo's voice is still playful, even if it has a neutralness to it. You blush slightly at his words, earning a smile from Wonwoo as he smiles. "I'm just teasing you. I appreciate everything you say to me."

A slight pink tint to Wonwoo's cheeks brings an even brighter one to yours, and the two of you fall silent, obviously sensing something between you. Wonwoo's eyes rake over your form, and you shyly look up at him, dark brown eyes behind his frame still making you warm inside as you sigh (dreamily and deliriously, as you might add).

You had made Wonwoo—Professor Jeon Wonwoo, the boring, scarily neutral English professor—blush from your compliments. You would be wallowing in your achievement if you weren't also blushing at the moment.

"Well, I, uh—" You stumble over your words, also stumbling over your book as you pick it up from the floor. Wonwoo watches you quietly, glasses sliding down his strong nose bridge slightly as he watches you head towards the door. "I should get going. It's getting late, and I have to be back here early tomorrow."

"I'll walk you to your car." Wonwoo nods, following suit as he slips his jacket over his broad shoulders and picks up his briefcase. His dress shoes hit the wooden floor as he follows after you, and he turns out the light, leaving you two engulfed in darkness for a few seconds as you stumble back, stepping on Wonwoo's foot.

He grunts harshly under you, and you scramble back, lights in the hallway illuminating your embarrassed blush. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

Wonwoo just smiles again, smile lines sending butterflies that go straight to your stomach. "No worries. You couldn't see because of me, and I'm sorry." His cologne is so strong and so him you can't think straight, but you do your best to string your words together.

"Well, Mr. Jeon, I'll see you tomorrow," The two of you had just left the building, now by your car as you unlock the door. Wonwoo watches you with sharp eyes, clearing his throat as you turn to him.

"If—If you'd like, we should converse over dinner sometime. Not as coworkers, but as good friends." Wonwoo's sentence brought a rude awakening to your world, and you stood in shocked silence for a second, processing what he said to you as you blinked blankly.

Wonwoo considered you to be a good friend—you would have never told by how unfazed he was by most things, but he considered you to be more than a coworker or partner. He saw you as a friend. A good friend who was asking you to dinner.

"Yeah, we—we should, Mr. Jeon." You agree, and Wonwoo clears his throat, sharp eyes daring away as he adds, "Oh, and you can call me Wonwoo. We're comfortable with each other now, so we can drop the formalities."

Not only were you Wonwoo's good friend, but you were such a good friend you could now call Mr. Jeon by his real name, Wonwoo. Too many green flags were going off in your head, but could Wonwoo sense he was giving you all these green flags? It only made your crush on him worse.

"Well, I'll get going, Wonwoo." Even his name on your lips felt sweet, and Wonwoo nodded, giving you a small wave as he closed your car door.

"Until tomorrow." He smiles softly again, and you melt into your seat, smiling as you nod back. "Until tomorrow."

feedback & reblogs are appreciated! love u lyrnation <3

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3igbootyl0ver · 2 days ago

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A New Face (Pt.4) | Home

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: after eight months, you and Tara are closer than ever. Her playful texts pull you away from a project, and you spend the night cuddling, reassuring her you're not going anywhere.

word count: 981

a/n: hi guys this is literally so short bc I didn't want to ruin it + I'm already working on another part for who hurt you. this can read as a oneshot by itself hence the extra title; anyways I hope u guys like it, any feedback is appreciated and I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to do this collage thing below xoxo

It’s been 8 months since you and Tara went on your first date and started dating; since then, you’ve shared countless memories, learned more about each other than you ever expected, and your bond only has deepened, making you both excited to see what the future holds together. There’s been a mix of growth, fun and intimate moments; and although there’s a few challenges, there’s always playfulness and banter in the relationship.

Tonight, you’re focused on finishing your project, eager to submit it at least a day before the deadline so you won’t have to rush and send in poor quality work. But then, a ping on your phone distracts you.

Tara <3

can you come over? i miss you and I’m bored

Sent at 11.45pm

You

sorry babe, I can’t. i have a project due in a few days

Sent at 11.47pm

Tara <3

guess i’ll just sit in bed..alone,cold

all by myself

w nobody to cuddle with. allll alone

You

oh shut up I’m putting my shoes on

Sent at 11.55pm

This usual banter happens often. Honestly, you didn’t mind how clingy Tara is, you knew what the younger Carpenter has been through. She decided to let you know about her past after a month of dating, with what happened to her and the core four a year ago; and you comforted her with cuddles and kisses with soft whispers for being brave and having to go through all of that.

It’s almost midnight, but the way Tara’s playful messages cut through the tranquil night, it’s hard not to smile. You know her well enough to recognize when she’s pretending to be dramatic—and when she’s genuinely feeling a little lonely or vulnerable.The little banter between the two of you has become a ritual, a comfort. But beneath it all, there’s that deep understanding of each other’s lives, pasts, and fears. You know Tara’s history, and you know she’s been through a lot. You could never understand how anyone would willingly put her in harms way. A single glance from her could make you melt into a puddle, as if the weight of the world disappeared in the softness of her eyes, leaving you both grounded and utterly undone at the same time.

You know that when you get to her place, all the tension in your body will melt away. As you head out, a small part of you can’t help but reflect on how far you’ve both come in just eight months—how much you’ve both grown together. Every little moment, where you can simply drop everything and be there for each other, makes all the difference.

Tara’s got a special place in your heart, and tonight, it’s all about making her feel seen, heard, and loved. For so long, the idea of "home" felt like a distant concept, something that belonged to a life you couldn’t fully reclaim after your parents passed. You thought you’d never feel settled again, that kind of deep connection, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But with Tara, it’s different. It’s effortless, the way she makes you feel both grounded and free. Her presence fills spaces in your heart you didn’t know were empty.

As you may your way to her place, a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s funny how simply being with her, in her space, cuddling under the blankets, or sharing small moments of laughter, feels more like home than anything else ever has. When you knock on her door, she’s already standing there, as if she already felt your presence from a block away; wrapped in a blanket, her hair falling messily around her face, and that familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re late,” she teases, her voice a soft mixture of playfulness and a hint of relief. Ever since you both got together, Tara’s been more anxious, fearing that Ghostface might pop out and take you from her. She’s expressed her concerns to you, and you’ve made sure to constantly remind her that you aren’t going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Tara— you’re stuck with me, no matter what.” Besides, you don’t mind constantly texting her and sending pictures of whatever you’re up to.

“Lay with me? Please?” You fold almost instantly, allowing her to pull you into her bedroom while making sure to keep quiet, since Sam is asleep. Just as you settle onto her bed beside her, Tara does her little grabby hands and you pull her against you, her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head and smiling into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as she had always associated you with safety. You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand before leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Tara’s eyes fluttered at the gesture, and you can feel your heart soar at how adorable she is.

“I love you, so, so much. Did you know that?” You whispered close to her forehead. The warmth of your whisper sent a gentle shiver down her spine. “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you say it again, and again..” You chuckled softly at her statement.

“I don’t mind it either, because I’ll keep saying it; every day if I have to” You smiled softly, the words lingering between you.

Before you could say more, she pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle—the familiar taste of strawberry from her lip balm making you sigh in content. The kiss was warm, comforting, like coming home. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile tugging at her corner of her lips. “I love you more,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

It was safe to say that you didn’t manage to finish your project anytime soon. But with Tara in your arms, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

a/n: i hope this is enough for ya'll bc i literally couldn't figure out a way to continue without it being too draggy and boring. fyi 'who hurt you' pt 2 should be coming out in 2 days hopefully idk AND idk how this taglist thing works so lmk if you'd be interested in it

taglist: @bella423

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x y #scream

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anotherbananasong · 18 hours ago

Text

Looks like it’s Banana Story Time.

2023 Christmas Ghost Fiasco

Context: my three nieces are home alone because it’s Christmas break, my younger sister and brother-in-law are at work. They live ten miles outside town on their own little homestead. My older sister is in town for the holiday, my first time seeing her since early summer of 2023.

Under the read more, cause it’s a long one.

My oldest niece texts us to get McDonald’s for lunch. I tell my older sister I’ll be at my parents’ house in ten minutes to pick her up, and we’ll take them lunch together.

I get to my parents’ house. I’m listening to Ghost. I text my sister that I’m outside cause it was cold and I didn’t want to get out of the car. Ten minutes go by, and I’m irritated cause I hate waiting. I end up getting out of my car and go inside. My sister is on the couch going through her emails. She laughs it off cause she didn’t hear her phone go off right behind her. So I’m like, okay, little thing, no big deal, calm down, Banana. We get to McDonalds. I ask my sister what she wants and she says a “plain McDouble”. So I order her a plain McDouble. As we’re going around to the window, she says she meant everything that normally comes on it (mustard, ketchup, pickles, and onions). So a regular/standard McDouble. I HATE changing orders at the window, so I am irritated for having to inconvenience the staff because I know they’re already working hard to begin with. But they accommodate and it’s fine. As we’re leaving, my sister says she forgot her chapstick, and can we go back to the parents’ house to pick it up. Banana rages inside, but says fine. We get to my parent’s and she has BANANA go in and grab it, because she’s holding the drinks. Irritated cause now I’m out in the cold again just for some cursed chapstick. I have to ransack the couch for it, but find it anyway.

We finally get to heading out to deliver lunch to my nieces. As we’re driving, “Mary on a Cross” comes on and my sister is like “oh, I know this song. I like this kind of music over that other stuff” (I had been listening to Lorna Shore the other day; heavier metal, for those unfamiliar), so I’m excited because someone in my family is familiar with Ghost. So I ask her “you wanna hear my favorite song??” and she’s like “sure!”

I happily almost veer off the highway to put “Cirice” on. As it’s a ten minute drive, we hear the whole song. We finish just as I’m turning down the dirt road to my little sister’s. She goes “that was nice, I liked that. What’s it about?” because she likes hearing interpretations on things; she just graduated with her Master’s in music. I tell her there are a lot of different ways I personally interpret the song, depending on the day, my mood, and who/what I’m thinking about. But one of my favorite ways to describe it, though, is that it is essentially (in my opinion) a love song to us from Satan.

Record scratch.

“Love song from WHO?????”

It was at this moment, Banana remembered this particular sister was devoutly Christian, having spent the entirety of her career teaching music in Lutheran schools, and had just moved to Indiana to work as a director of music for a church.

“Oh……… right….. um, they’re a Satanic rock band out of Sweden….”

The sheer level of pearl-clutching. The height of offense.

I couldn’t tell if she was more offended that I was literally playing her “the devil’s music”, or that she had admitted to liking it before knowing more about the band.

Needless to say, she refused to let me pick the music after that.

#the band ghost #ghost

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dramatic-dolphin · 2 days ago

Note

Re. Your women being so scared thing. And to be clear I mostly agree with you.

I'm not sure where you're from, but I'm from New York, and I can say for sure that I'd feel more safe in the most dangerous part of the UK than basically anywhere in the US. My Parisian aunt thinks Gare du Nord too dangerous to walk near under any circumstances, but to me it seems like a normal bigger train station level of danger, and the streets around it seem normal. I lived in a university town in the UK for a year, and I never felt in danger there or in London, even alone, even in the middle of the night. I was never alone in Berlin, but I was out at night, and I felt at least as comfortable as I would in New York. So I think, at last in the places I've been and from my experience, America is more dangerous and much scarier. I have never been street harassed in the UK, and I have been harassed and followed in New York plenty, and had several people attempt to attack me. Men in the US will also often harass you from a car, which is an explicit threat. It's also important to remember that parking lots are bad places to be and most of the US has to drive, and therefore park.

That said, I know some women who won't ride the subway at night, or at all, and that seems very paranoid to me. If you're riding at a remotely normal time and are paying any attention to your surroundings, you're almost certainly going to be fine. I also know girls who, even once they're in a car, of course, will send friends their location just in case. This seems extremely paranoid to me. Maybe check you're going the right way like one time. I do still think some of the things people do can be reasonable caution - yeah, didn't go hiking on a first date - but the perspective people are throwing at you strikes me as distinctly privileged. No one who's ever had a job can think that way. I've worked with a few women who took cars home after every shift, or their dad or their boyfriend picked them up in a car, and at that point, you have a job as a hobby, because unless he works nearby, you just spent your minimum wage on gas. If you take a cab home in New York, from Manhattan to any other borough, that's most of your pay. So to me, this level of paranoia generally reads that you've never had to be alone anywhere so you don't understand what it means, and you've never had to do shit with, and if you did do it, the money wasn't important.

Yeah a lot of time I get mad at this online because it just seems overly paranoid to me, and then a woman comes in with a personal experience or anecdotes, and it hits me that maybe the US *is* actually that bad? I live in Hungary, and I really like walking alone in the city at night, or going for long walks in the forest alone, and I've never really felt unsafe doing that, but - and this is crucial - neither have most of the women I talk to. Or at least, not to this degree. So, yeah, the US is possibly worse and more unsafe? I can believe that, it's just hard to conceptualize I guess, since the US likes to portray itself as tbe baseline for a "civilized" country, and I live in *Eastern Europe*. So there's preconceptions here, lol.

But yes, a lot of these, even when corrected for this, are just paranoid, there's no other way to see it. Like, no matter where you live, you truly do NOT need to share your location every time you leave home. And there's also the matter of being disconnected from the people and community around you, like being scared to help your neighbor or someone on your street. We live in a society, you kind of have to take an active part of it.

A lot of it is just a lot of energy spent on being scared every waking moment of your life. Like, okay, in the reddit thread I saw this in, there was a woman saying that she ALWAYS puts her ID in her front pocket when she goes outside so they can easily IDENTIFY THE BODY IF SHE DIES. Like what material good does worrying about this bring to your life? It's not even a self-defense technique, doing this will not help you with staying alive!! All it does is make you think about "oh no, I could get murdered" every time you leave the house. This is NOT a healthy mindset!

It's like a strange and widespread kind of anxiety, and the worst part is, it has you convinced it's necessary, and you can't get rid of it unless you make an active effort to do things despite being scared. First you have to convince yourself that you *won't* get murdered by your date if you don't share your location, and that's the hardest part. And yeah lol, having to do things alone helps you with this tremendously, because you realize that you've just taken the subway at night alone and survived. But if you're never forced to do things alone, you get stuck in this weird fear spiral, and whenever you see a stranger, you end up thinking about how they could murder you.

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banditthewriter · 2 days ago

Text

The Box - A Gale drabble

A throwback to my old bandit days, I've written 2 drabbles in one day. This is extraordinary, but I've had a lot of inspiration. Tried my hand at Gale this go around. Thanks for reading!

Enjoy!

***

A clatter came from the direction of Gale’s office, but it wasn’t uncommon. The two of you each had a habit of making a bunch of rackets when the two of you were in your offices. He would be perfecting different spells and incantations, you were trying to brew new potions that sometimes went boom. Most of your adventuring days were behind you but you did admit to writing down the recipes of the ones that went boom—never knew when you or one of your long time friends might need it.

Another clatter, this time louder, came out and made you jump just as you were adding the last ingredient. Hesitantly you put it down and dampened the fire under the flask set before you turned to the door of your alchemy room.

Since your arrival in Waterdeep, the two of you had spent innumerous hours together getting to know each other while the world was not on the precipice of apocalypse. The separate offices had been your idea. It was good and healthy to have a place that was just your own. While there were no set in stone rules about going into each other’s spaces, both of you tried to respect the other’s privacy when you were in your offices.

However a flash of memories came to you of various people coming after you and the others. Loyalists to the Absolute who hadn’t been tadpoled before the final battle who were upset that they had lost the promise of power they’d once had.

Caution to the wind, you left your office and crossed the hallway to Gale’s office door. It was usually shut when he was working, but it was half opened which worried you more. A loud thud resounded and you quickly threw the door open.

Gale was squatting beside a gilded chest, both hands thrust inside. It was like no chest you’d ever seen; the opening seemed to glow with Gale’s magic and then disappear into a dark void. Just as you started to wonder if it was hurting him somehow, Gale pulled his hands out and tossed aside a golden cauldron.

“Don’t even know why I kept that,” he muttered as he thrust his hands back into the chest.

There were other items strewn beside him. A large picture frame with what seemed to be a painting of his parents, a small chest that had popped open and spilled out scrolls, a sterling silver plate with his family’s crest etched in the middle.

“What is the opposite of spring cleaning?”

Gale jumped at your voice, obviously having missed your entrance in the midst of him pulling out the cauldron.

“Autumnal cluttering, perhaps?” He grinned over at you and then frowned back at the chest. “The charm I had placed on this chest to work like a bag of holding has apparently gone awry. I can no longer just summon the item I want but need to fish for it in what feels like a never ending clutter.”

“Which has led you to throwing half the contents onto the floor.”

You stepped over a few glittering odds and ends. As you reached his side, he pulled out a clock that had diamonds encrusted on the face. He didn’t toss it to the side but gently placed it down before thrust his hands back into the chest.

“Is there something I can do to help you? Four hands are better than two,” you offered as you raised your hands and wiggled your fingers.

“No, no,” he said quickly with a shake of his head, “no, the magic is tied to me and though it has gone afoul, I do not want to think what might happen if you put your hands in—AHA!”

With a yank, Gale was sent backwards onto his rear. Clutched in his hands was a small leather box. He laughed as he looked down at it, his fingers delicately rubbing against the leather.

“Found what you were looking for?”

Gale’s eyes snapped up to you and you saw a whirlwind of emotion cross his features. Then he simply laughed.

“I did. In more ways than one. This wasn’t how I planned on going about this, but when has a hurdle ever stopped us?” He lifted the box in one hand out towards you. “This box belonged to my grandmother on my father’s side. It was given to me should I ever…find someone that I wanted to spend my life with. During my seclusion here, I put it in the chest because I truly never thought I’d find that person. Truly wasn’t sure what sort of life I would have even if I did. But with you, I found so much more than just someone to spend my life with. I found someone to enjoy my life with. To love living life as much as I love you.”

Tears were in your eyes as Gale moved to kneel before you. He held the box up and gently undid the golden clasp to open it.

Inside on a purple velvet pillow was a beautiful ring. A silver band with a diamond that seemed to glitter with every color in the universe.

“Will you–”

You dropped to your knees and grabbed his face, tugging him towards your lips. Somehow the two of you maneuvered so that he could slip the ring onto your finger—and then onto the left hand when you realized in your excitement you’d had the hands mixed up—without releasing the kiss.

When you both finally pulled back, Gale’s smile could have brightened up the entire sky. Instead it just brightened your heart.

#my writing #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale drabble

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wisecura · 2 days ago

Text

Try the Priest

Suguru x fem-reader

Warning: angst, spoilers, imposing suguru

AN: so I wanted to try something new. It’s not heavily proofread and more flowy so please lemme know what you think. Not sure if I’ll continue with a part 2 yet

Someone you’d considered your friend.

Went to classes with. Assisted in missions with. Fought alongside—taking down a variety of curses. Patching each other up after particularly grueling missions. Sharing many late night hang out. Staying up late reading shitty quotes from your favorite terrible books. Laughing til your sides ached and tears pooled your eyes. Braiding his hair. Telling him secrets you’d never shared—not even with Satoru.

And it came with the territory.

Doing your best to pull him up from his down in the dumps energy. Noticing him sinking deeper into his mangled thoughts. Hugging him and telling him you were there for him if he ever needed. Begging him to just talk to you, and feeling utterly worthless when you couldn’t genuinely cheer him up. When it seemed he couldn’t confide in you. When it seemed he didn’t think of you the way you’d thought of him. Putting those feelings aside, because you couldn’t stand to see him so unhappy. Bringing him food when it seemed he just couldn’t remember to eat—long-since losing the urge. His mind lingering on the taste of each consumed curse. In his moments of hysteria, when he was curled up on your mattress—so lost and broken that you hardly recognized the man you once knew—he’d would finally confess those thoughts swirling in his mind.

Suguru Geto was someone you considered your best friend.

But you no longer recognized the man on the camera before you. The pale walls closing in on you. Photos strewn on corkboard. The man, you’d heard, slaughtered a village of people. assuming the leader role in an infamous cult. The same cult who incentivized Riko Armani’s death only months prior. You weren’t the only one absorbing this information, but it felt so personal. His betrayal. His defection. His indifference to you and the others.

But, more than anything, you’d felt so very guilty. The man you called your best friend—your closest friend, hadn’t relied on you in his darkest moments. Not really. You blamed yourself for this. For the deaths of hundreds. The look of pure agony on your second best friends face when he’d heard the news. Your lack of intervention when you’d seen him spiraling off the rocker. When he’d utter the word ‘filthy monkeys’ under his breath, like a broke record sputtering out. You been the only one around him during those times. When he’d lost all that weight, developing those dark circles on his normally handsome face. You had seen the signs, where even Satoru might not have. But you hadn’t thought he’d form an outlet like this. He’d lash out like this. You couldn't have known. They were both grieving in their own ways, after all.

‘—SUGURU GETO FLED. IN ACCORDANCE TO ARTICLE 9 OF THE JUJUTSU REGULATIONS, HE IS NOW CONSIDERED A CURSE USER AND SUBJECT-TO EXECUTION.’

You instinctively tune out the notice. Numbness seeping into your very fiber. The cold, frigid air of the underground cellar surrounding you. You’d never thought there’d be a day, not even in the deep recesses of your mind, that the righteous sweetheart, Suguru Geto, would be subject to an execution order. Let alone become the cause of hundred of innocent deaths, and the fear behind many. You desperately wanted to talk to him. Desperately wanted to see him again. Ask him if it was true. If it wasn’t a ploy to jerk the chains of the special grade sorcerers. But you were also hit with the small, yet so present, urge to ignore it. To pretend you hadn’t heard it and assume nothing was amiss. That this wasn’t actually happening. And that Suguru was lounging at your apartment, probably hogging the space of your couch. Taking over your bed space just to get on your nerves. Scavenging the snacks you secretly kept for him in your fridge. Or scrolling mindlessly through his phone at your kitchen table, teasingly asking you what took you so long to get back.

But that isn’t where you were. And that wasn’t what was going to happen. And Suguru Geto was a notorious murderer at large. He was as good as dead, along with those he now associates with.

In the months following, you…survived. You’d often have Satoru or Shoko over, they surprisingly took it better than you had. Satoru especially pain closer attention to your actions. Likely in response to missing all of the signs with Suguru. Or maybe because he knew just how close you two had been. You’d often zone out for days. Satoru would shovel spoonfuls of strawberry cake into your mouth, insisting that at least it was something. And at least you got your calories. You found yourself mistaking their presence, on more than one occasion, for Suguru’s. Which would lead to another breakdown that’d require fussing over. But you’ll give yourself credit here. You’d finally,after several long grueling months, set into your previous rhythm. You didn’t require as much maintenance—feeding and cleaning yourself. And you needed much less reassurance—no he wasn’t dead, yet.

Then you saw him. The shadow of a man that had been impersonating Suguru, was now restored to his full former glory. You’d almost thought you’d saw a ghost, opening the late night knocks like that. Standing right next to your pot of camellias, holding a few letters seemingly from your mailbox. A small grin crossing his face, as those eyes lit up oh-so-slightly at your appearance at the door.

Feeling far to nostalgic for comfort.

He looked good. Healthier. Stronger. You wanted to feel scared. Wanted your body to match your mind, to flee from this terror of a man that’s been causing you so much grief lately. But your body just didn’t respond to him that way. Refused to.

You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips, unwittingly, as you stared up into those purple eyes. You thought you’d never see those again. You thought the next time would be when he’d be lying on a steel table, draped in white linens. No—not again. Never alive.

“Suguru” you say to yourself, words nearly a whisper, with disbelief coating each syllable. He nods at you, his lips never dropping that eye capturing smile. “In the flesh.”

You stare at him for a moment, not sure how to react. Why was he here?

“What…what are you doing here?” Your voice strained, and though you didn’t want to admit it, you could feel the back of your throat well up slightly. You knew if you were t careful, you’d revert to the you from months before. You seemed to catch him off guard with your word, as he looked away, having the gal to come off shy.

“Can I come in?” After a second, you nod, peaking your head around the doorframe—your apartments walkway, not seeing a soul in sight. He stood firm as you come within touching distance of him, cautiously peering the corners, before taking a few steps aside to let him in.

As he steps through your front door, you’re left feeling…small. Unbearably so. He was always tall, but you’d never seen him so imposing. The Buddhist priest attire, though not entirely surprising, was so new. So different. And all the same, it made him much more intimidating. You continue stepping back a few paces as he makes his way inside, before he closes the door himself. He carries himself to your living room, your floor plan memorized. He’d been there—practically lived there—enough times in the years you’d known him.

This wasn’t a man you knew.

“Geto, you shouldn’t be here.” He gave small acknowledgement to the distinct line you drew in your words. You speech painfully formal, your tone a pressed politeness. The only hint of irritation showing in his shoulders and the way his smile tightened. Your name—your first name, fell from his lips in absolute familiarity. “Its been a while.”

You stare at him dumbfounded for a second, as he makes his way to your couch, settling in. As if you’d invited him in for an afternoon cup of tea. His energy took up the whole room, looking so out of place. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Why—why are you here, Geto.”

His eye finally trail back to you at the sound of your voice spitting his last name out, so coldly. He’d been taking in the space, searching for changes in his surroundings. Searching for changes in you.

“I can’t just visit an old friend?” Your arms tighten around yourself in a self soothing gesture. Nails biting into your skin. You pull your gaze from him, not able to maintain the somewhat defiant stare.

“You can’t just show up unannounced. If they find you here—“

“Still worrying about me?”

“It’s dangerous for you to be here. Not for you. Not for me. You should g—“

“I missed you.”

The words stalled your thought process. The words ringing in the air, not settling properly. He wasn’t the Suguru you remember. He was entirely different. But those words still carried that familiar softness, the one he’d always reserved for you or Satoru. The ones that never failed to melt your heart, and make you cave.

“You…missed me?” The silence strung through the air. Buzzing. His grin grew at the hesitation through your voice. The confusion. He leaned back into the couch, taking a lax stance that didn’t fit the unwelcome atmosphere. Far too confident in your opinion.

“Of course I missed you. Did you think I wouldn’t?” As if he wasn’t a mass murderer. As if he hadn’t left you and Satoru.

“I…” you stalled again. Just what were you supposed to say to that? To him? After all this time.

“Why are you really here, Geto.”

“Suguru.” You stare at him, in disbelief, eyes narrowing. “It’s Suguru. Don’t act like you don’t know me anymore.” He’s saying this as if it were the most important thing in the world. Not the fact that he was a wanted man.

“I don’t know you. And I don’t know why you’re here. Leave before I-“

“Before you what? Kill me?” The words were a sharp taunt. He knew you wouldn’t. Knew you couldn’t. Your chest tightened at the thought, his words a blade pressed against your neck. You muttered out, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

And, ignoring you, he persists. “You won’t though. Will you?” The challenge there. “That’s not who you are.”

“You don’t decide who I am.” You nearly hiss, “you of all people don’t get to walk in here, acting like nothing has changed. Like everything’s okay—like we’re okay.” His eyes darkened at your words, and his smile faded.

“I never said nothing has changed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. After everything we’ve been through-“

“Everything we've been through?” His words felt so thoughtless at the time, not entirely realizing the provoking nature. You were practically shouting at this point. “You mean everything you walked away from? Everything you destroyed?”

He didn’t even flinch. His voice calm and firm, “I didn’t come back to argue. I came back to see you.”

“Why?” The word burst from your mouth, raw and sharpened with each emotion you’d felt since he’d left. The thoughts and feeling piling up by the second. His words inciting another to add to the pot. “Why me? After everything—after everyone—why did you come here?”

His eyes remained fixed on you for a moment. Your shouting hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. He’d had to have expected it. You’re almost panting, each nerve ending abuzz. Boarding on another mental breakdown.

When he finally did speak, his voice was lower. Almost hesitant. “Because you’re the only one I can’t leave behind.” You search his face, desperately searching for a hint of deception. Searching for a lie. But this man was never one for lying, at least he hadn’t been.

Your voice comes out a whisper, shaky and somewhat wound up, “That’s not fair. You don’t get to say that. Not after what you’ve done.” You could feel the build up behind your eyes. Red, hot, and unwitting. You held back as much as you could, showing him no weakness. But you’d already failed in that aspect. Much like how you failed in the ending of your friendship with him.

“I know it isn’t fair.” His voice about as soft and quiet as yours now. “But it’s the truth. I couldn’t do it. I tried.”

The room was much too suffocating. Your eyes much to hot. His confession hitting like a sucker punch to the jaw. The meaning behind his words, shallowly beneath the surface tension. But you wouldn’t be reaching for it. You felt so utterly worn—which is such a shame since you’d finally been getting back to a somewhat normal pace.

Here comes this man, crashing back in and challenging your every moral—your very being once again. You mustered up the courage—mustered up the strength to set him straight. To set yourself straight.

“You should go.” Barely audible. Yet the silence of the room reverberated each word, clearly. His eyes tried to catch your gaze, as you made it you mission to get him out of there as quickly as possible. Save that sanity.

“Do you really want me to?”

“Yes.” You respond immediately, but it sounded so hallow. Automated, at best. Even to you.

“Then tell me to leave. Tell me to get out of your life. Now. Tell me you don’t miss me. That you don’t want me here.”

Your throat tightened up, a lump forming that was impossible to swallow. Each line he gave, more abrasive than the last. You open your mouth ready to deal that final blow—reaffirm those words, but closed it again. He watched you closely, his expression unreadable. For the first time, you’re coming to terms with just how much you missed him. Just how deeply you cared for him. Your best friend. Your closest confidant. Your high school crush. Your everything. There was so much left unspoken between you two. Were you ready to throw it away? Would you lose your standing in the sorcerer world and be exiled too? Would you be okay with that?

“I thought so.” He said, a hint of satisfaction staining his tone. You try to ignore the tears threatening to spill over. The thoughts racing in your head. You physically pull away, your back finally to him. You can’t stand to see his face, let alone handle this situation right now.

You loved Suguru Geto. And it seemed he felt something for you.

Your back stayed to him. For a moment that stretched far too long, neither of you spoke a word. His last words were left floating in you’re head. Had it really been as hard for him to leave as it had been for you? You found the love for him deep below the anger and betrayal. But that didn’t mean you could act on it. It didn’t mean things weren’t different now.

Pulling you from your thoughts, you felt warmth at your back, before you had even felt his energy. Your breath hitched as his arms enveloped you. He was so close. Too close. Yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from the comforting gesture. You tilted you head back, hoping to catch the expression on his face, only to find those dark eyes already watching you. He was taller now. Much taller than before.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” Your voice trembling, much weaker than you wanted it to be. He didn't answer immediately, opting to watch you longer. His grip tightened around you, almost testing to see if you’d push him away. His head dipped to the shell of your ear, “Just…reminding myself.” Before settling into the crook of your shoulder. The hesitation was clear in his voice, making him sound much more…docile than a man that’d slaughtered an entire village or taken over a destructive religious cult. You almost felt yourself stiffen at the overly familiar contact.

His warm, earthy scent filled your lungs, encoating you in its sentimentality. You’d missed this too. You’d missed him. Your body settled for you, before you could pull from him. Before you could think of why you should be cautious around him. And the thought flowed from you lips before you could even process the desire to carry on this conversation with him. “Of what?”

“…That you’re real.” Your heart clenched painfully at his confession. You’d been wondering the same thing the second you saw him in your doorway.

This didn’t feel real. Maybe another nightmare featuring yours truly, maybe you could expect a ringing gunshot through the room. An astounding thud. Only to find him collapsed on the floor behind you, his blood soaking your pajamas.

His head dug deeper into the crook of your neck, almost nuzzling—as if he’d seen your thoughts. But he wasn’t aware just how much he’d put you through.

“Suguru…” you tried to sound firm, angry even—

“I know.”

You let out a sigh. Were you even angry anymore? Was this sadness flooding your chest? Sympathy? Love? Desperation?

“I know I don’t deserve this. But for a moment.” His voice even and constant, before breaking. “Please, for a moment let’s stay like this.”

44 notes · View notes

ktkpopping · 14 hours ago

Text

Burn

summary: following a devastating breakup, your best friend Mingi helps you to put yourself back together

Hello again!! This fic was inspired solely by how Mingi says “burn it” in Outlaw. I heard it and immediately had the thought that it would make a cool fic idea. If you like some angst and a lot of hurt/comfort, then this is the fic for you!!

This fic can be read as gender-neutral! There are no identifying traits to mc or their ex-partner.

warnings: depictions of depression and anxiety throughout the story. This is a fic following a nasty breakup and the mc struggles in the aftermath.

pairing: best friend Mingi x reader

genres: heavy angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 8.8k

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60850432

———

You sat there stunned, unable to comprehend the words displayed before you on the screen.

LOML💕

It’s over, I found someone else

Sorry y/n

Your person, or who you THOUGHT was your person, had found someone else??

As you stood there in your apartment, your phone fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees, sitting there unseeing at the linoleum floor as you tried to process the abrupt end of your relationship.

How were you supposed to move on?

You wondered if you’d ever be able to stop crying, or if your eyes would ever cease to be swollen.

It’s been weeks since your breakup, yet you still felt the pure anguish and heartache, which were slowly fading their way into anger. How could they do this to you?

Two years of time wasted on someone who had the utter AUDACITY to callously end your relationship VIA TEXT MESSAGE because they had “found somebody else.”

What the fuck? The texts were a blow to your self esteem and you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover. You hated what those words made you see in the mirror–someone unworthy of anyone’s time.

How could someone who had claimed to love you exhibit such cowardice? Had you really known them at all? How long had this dalliance been going on? Did they cheat? Was it physical or emotional?

Dark clouds loomed in your mind as you spiraled and felt more tears leak out.

What was the point in anything? You stayed in bed and refused to shower because you were just going to get dirty again. You didn’t have the energy to stand upright for that long anyway. Staying here in bed was your safe haven, and you didn’t want to move.

Burying your face into your pillow you screamed until your voice was hoarse and you felt a little dizzy, hoping that the exhaustion and misery would overtake you.

That’s how your best friend, Mingi, found you. Laying face down and sniffling on a messy bed and a floor covered in tissues, takeout wrappers, and dirty clothes, while attempting to dry your tears on the sleeve of your oversized hoodie. Probably one of Mingi’s old ones, if he had to guess.

Mingi was the only person besides your partner, well, ex-partner, that had a key to your place. He made a mental note to remind you to change the locks, though he doubted the fucker would ever come back here for any reason.

Mingi couldn’t help but feel his heart clench painfully at the sight of his best friend in this state. It looked like you had barely moved in days. You deserved so much better than someone who would throw you to the side so easily.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to get your attention, but you were too far gone in your anguish to hear him. Tentatively, he ventured closer and tried again. This time, you heard his deep cough and turned your heavy head toward the sound.

His eyes found yours and softened even more at the heartbroken expression on your face. He came closer and you felt the bed dip as he sat his large frame close to you.

You abruptly shifted and flung yourself into his arms, hearing him exhale an “oof” at the unexpected contact, but quickly locking his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

You sobbed harder into his chest as he tucked your head under his chin and began rubbing his large hands up and down your back in a comforting motion.

The two of you stayed like this for a while until your heaving sobs quieted into soft sniffles, his grip on you never relenting.

“How could they do this to me, Min? I know it’s been weeks, I just can’t—I can’t fucking believe they ended it this way!! Found someone ‘better’,” you scoffed. “What the fuck does that even mean?!? Did I really mean so little to them?”

The tears welled up as your breaths became uneven again.

You and Mingi had had this conversation before, but it was clear it would take a while to come to terms with the reality of the situation. Mingi’s heart continued to break for you, but he vowed that he’d always be by your side and he’d do his damndest to help you get through it.

You could feel the rumble of his deep voice against you as he spoke. “It’s cliche to say, but they’re not fucking worth it. I know in the back of your mind you know this and you probably don’t want to hear it right now, but it’s true.”

You choked out what sounded like a scoff.

“I know. I KNOW. But like…I just…I loved them. I LOVED them. Did they even love me? They’ve made me feel so fucking worthless and I don’t know why I can’t just let it go!” you wailed into his chest.

He tightened his hold around you. “You don’t have to justify your feelings to me, you’re entitled to feel however you want about that jackass. I’m not the one to dictate how you grieve or process. I’m just here, as your best friend, to hold you and help you through it. I always will be,” he murmured above you.

Your tears spilled out a little faster and you sniffled into his chest. “What would I ever do without you, Min? I can’t believe I have you in my life sometimes.”

You and Mingi had known each other for well over a decade, having attended high school together and remaining close friends through college and the start of your careers.

You honestly don’t know how you would’ve made it this far without him.

———

“Mingi, promise me we’ll stick together no matter what. You’re my best friend in this whole world,” you stated, staring up at the stars with Mingi sitting next to you in the bed of his beat-up pickup.

“Of course y/n, I’ll always be with you. You’re my best friend too.”

And that’s how you always were. A package deal. Two peas in a pod, inseparable, but not in a way that makes the people around you uncomfortable. You and Mingi were the type of friends who could pull anyone in and make them feel like they’ve known you their whole lives.

You were eternally grateful for Mingi and his steadfast friendship, a strong and enduring presence in your life.

Him supporting you at events in high school, you in turn sticking with him in his obsession with e-sports and the quarterly decision to become a gym rat, giving up a mere 3 weeks later.

Him being a protective big brother at frat parties when someone got a little too handsy with you when he could see the distress plainly on your face.

You willing to go to war for him when some girl led him on and bruised his ego for a while one semester.

He was your best friend, your ride or die.

And you hoped it would always stay that way.

———

In the back of your mind you wondered if your friendship with Mingi had played into a hidden insecurity with your partner. Were they threatened? You were together for two years, if they were feeling insecure or threatened, why didn’t they vocalize it?

Little did you know, Mingi wondered the same thing. He hadn’t hated your ex until now, but they had treated you well and had never given any indication that they were a shitty partner or that your friendship with him had been a sore spot. The reasoning for leaving you really confounded him.

Noting your silence and sensing your impending spiral, Mingi squeezed you again to bring you back to the present and forced your focus back onto the feeling of his strong arms around you and his large frame pressed against your side.

You heaved out a sigh. “I still have so much of their shit here in the apartment, not to mention all the fucking photos we’d taken together. What am I supposed to do with it all? I don’t want to see that asshole’s face ever again if I can help it.”

“Burn it,” came Mingi’s casual reply.

You had to wonder if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, did you say BURN it?”

“Yeah, I did. Burn it,” you could feel his shrug as he shifted around you.

Turning to look up at him with disbelief in your eyes, you met his intense gaze with an incredulous one of your own.

“I can’t just BURN everything! There’s gotta be some fire code against that or something. Like how the fuck am I supposed to burn a PlayStation??” You remarked, exasperated. “I didn’t know you had a penchant for pyromania!”

Mingi chuckled in his rich, husky tone. “I was referring to the photos, maybe some of their clothes. We can either throw the rest at them or pawn it. Your choice, really, he hummed. “I just think it would be cathartic for you to set fire to some of the physical memories as a way of letting go. Perhaps even a phoenix-esque rebirth for you.”

You mulled over his suggestion.

“You don’t have to decide right now, I think you need to take some time to think about it and really allow yourself time to begin the moving on process,” he spoke into your hairline.

Mingi knew you were depressed, the state of your room and your mental wellbeing a clear indication to him. He knew exactly how it felt to hit rock bottom and feel so helpless, with zero motivation to do as much as even lifting your arms. He really wanted to be there for you as you had always been there for him during his bouts of depression and anxiety.

“In the meantime, you’ve been cooped up here in your room for far too long. I know how hard it is to break out of a despair so heavy, but you should take a shower and maybe brush your teeth to allow yourself to feel refreshed. I can help you with whatever you need, even if it means lifting the toothbrush myself. Hell, I could help you shower if you wanted. I don’t care. If you don’t want that, then I can help you clean up in here a bit. What would you prefer?”

He continued to rub soothing circles into your back and thigh as you considered his offer. “I’ll even carry you to the bathroom myself if that makes the decision easier.”

You sighed heavily and tightened your grip on him which indicated to him that you were going to take him up on this offer, so he kept his hold around your shoulders and scooped you up under your legs to bring you to your ensuite bathroom.

He deposited you on the counter and turned to look for your hair brush, hoping to work some of the knots out of your slightly matted hair before your shower. He found a comb, settling beside you to gently begin the detangling process. He worked in silence, being as thorough as possible without tugging too hard and causing you pain. You allowed him to work as you felt yourself zoning out and staring at the tile.

Eventually, he worked out the tangles and turned to start the shower. “Would you like me to help you shower, or do you think you can handle it yourself? If you want my help, I can bring you a bathing suit if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Mingi, we’ve both seen each other in extremely compromising positions in our years of friendship, I don’t care if you see my ass or any other bits for that matter, but I would love your help. I…just really don’t have the energy to hold myself up at this point.”

Nodding, Mingi moved to help divest you of your clothing, followed by his own. He turned back toward the shower to test the temperature, deeming it acceptable and then once again hoisted you into his arms to step into the shower.

Placing you gently under the spray, he set about looking for your face wash to start. He squirted some into your palm. “I don’t want to get any in your eyes, I know you can do this one,” he cooed softly at you, bringing your hands up to lather your face. As if on autopilot, you washed the buildup of oil and dried tears from your face and allowed the water to cascade over you.

Once you were finished, you turned back toward Mingi and he resumed his search of your products to locate your shampoo. Placing a suitable amount between his large palms, he turned you back around so that you were facing the spray and began to work his large hands through your hair and massaging your scalp.

You let out a contented hum as he massaged, shuddering a little at the feeling of his hands as they circled near your nape. Once he deemed suitable, he turned you back around to place your head under the spray as he let the water run through and wash away the suds. He continued to lightly massage his fingers through your now-clean hair, which left you uttering another contented sigh at the feeling.

Next, he went for the conditioner and turned you back around so that he could work the product through your ends. Once satisfied, he rinsed off his hands and reached for your silicone loofah, globbing body wash onto it and setting out to scrub the grime and dead skin off of you. He remained gentle as he worked his way up and down your body, nudging your legs apart at one point to wash between them. Following that, he detached the shower head and began rinsing you off, washing away however many days of wallowing and with it, some of the tension you had been feeling since you woke up that morning.

You leaned yourself back against Mingi and he wrapped his arms around you, once again locking you in a tight embrace as the water cascaded over the two of you, encasing you in a brief reprieve and moment of serenity.

As the water started to run tepid, Mingi turned off the tap and led you out of the stall to wrap you in a massive fluffy towel to dry you off. He worked diligently on you before grabbing another towel for himself and wrapping it around his waist.

“Wait here, I’m going to go strip your sheets and re-make your bed so that you have something clean to lay on.”

He left the room and you heard him banging around your closest looking for your clean sheets. Once again, you found yourself zoning out. You don’t know how long he was gone, but eventually you saw his blurred frame in front of you, snapping you back into the present and forcing your eyes up to his.

He reached out to caress the side of your face while holding your gaze. “Would you like me to help you brush your teeth, or do you think you can handle it yourself?”

Feeling a little bit less in your own head, you decided that you could handle this task yourself. You turned toward the sink and reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste to slowly rid your teeth of plaque and freshen your breath. You were slowly feeling a little more alive than previously thanks to Mingi.

Once you finished and rinsed your mouth out, you turned back towards Mingi and he offered you a hand, leading you gently out of the bathroom and back toward your room.

You noticed that he had thrown away all the trash and put your dirty clothes in the basket. Feeling your eyes well up a little bit, you turned to Mingi to thank him for his kindness and all his help.

“You don’t need to thank me. I know you would do the same for me if the situation were reversed. I’m happy to do anything you need to help you feel like yourself again,” he replied in a soft tone, hand once again moving to cup your face.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment, relishing in the comfort only Mingi could provide. Parting after a moment, you shifted back onto your bed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything settle on you, feeling utterly spent.

“Rest for a while. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.” Mingi climbed in after you to settle against the headboard and help you into the blankets. You curled onto your side to face him as you got comfortable.

“Really, truly, thank you Mingi. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” His words echoing in your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep.

———

The next few weeks progressed with Mingi spending as much time as he could with you. You were able to get medical leave from work for another week to allow for a little more time to recover.

You and Mingi would spend evenings on your couch snuggled up and watching dramas and some of your favorite movies, and he would cook a delicious meal almost every night. Tonight, you and Mingi were curled up under a few blankets with bowls of stew.

“Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do with your ex’s things?” asked Mingi between mouthfuls of food.

Swallowing your food, you tried to remember if you had heard from your ex in the previous weeks. Not remembering anything of note, you shook your head.

“They surprisingly haven’t asked for any of their shit back, so I’m not really sure if it needs to be an urgent matter or not. Frankly, I don’t care what they want because they broke my heart and deserve to rot.”

He chuckled. “Damn, brutal.”

You smirked back at him and took another bite of stew, reveling in the comfort of having your best friend here with you.

As you ate, you looked over at Mingi. His eyes were focused on the screen and you just took him in as he sat there. You were so grateful for him, you wouldn’t want anyone else as your best friend.

He must have felt you staring and he shifted his gaze back to yours.

“Do I have something on my face?”

You giggled at him as he smirked.

“Yeah, you do,” you said as you placed your bowl down and grabbed a throw pillow before launching it toward him.

Luckily, his reflexes were quick and he caught the pillow midair before it could smack him.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that one alright” he chuckled in a dangerous tone.

Eyes wide, you stood up quickly and bolted down the hallway toward your bedroom. Mingi followed after you, catching up in just a few long strides. Damn his long legs, you were no match for his pace.

He grabbed around your waist and threw you over his shoulder as you kicked your legs and slapped at his shoulders.

“Put me down you big dummy!”

“Do you yield?” he asked as you dangled helplessly, flailing in an attempt to be put down, but Mingi’s grip did not relent.

“Fine, fine!! I yield! Please put me down now!”

He gently set you back on your feet as you felt the blood rush back down from your face after being upside down.

You caught your breath and Mingi just continued to smirk at you with small chuckles.

“You’re a bold one, that’s for sure,” he intoned in his deep drawl.

You turned to glare at him, but were unable to maintain the expression as you looked at the goofy grin on your best friend’s face. You ended up doubling over to laugh, leaning forward to catch Mingi in a hug.

“Come on big guy, let’s go back to the couch and finish our show.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward your nest of blankets on the couch, settling back into the comfortable silence.

At some point you must have drifted off, because you wake to a darkened room and a blanket placed over you. You blink a few times and let your eyes adjust to the low light and see a note on the table.

I put away the leftovers and washed the dishes. I would’ve stayed but I have an early meeting tomorrow so I needed to head home. I’ll be around all week if you need something or want to hang out. Let me know if the idiot contacts you, I’ll be there with a lighter.

xx Min

You smiled at his barely legible script. Yeah, you really were lucky to have him as your best friend.

———

Another few weeks pass without contact from your ex. You were becoming comfortable with the idea that they genuinely didn’t care about whatever they left at your apartment, and had almost forgotten they left anything here at all.

You were finally able to go back to work, feeling a little less like the world was going to cave in on you. The despair you had previously felt morphed into righteous anger, then transformed again into a bit of numbness. But it was enough to make you forget about your failed relationship and return to a relative normalcy.

Evenings were still spent with Mingi, either at your place or his as he continued to find ways to help keep you and your mind occupied.

It was one night a week later as you were both sitting on opposite ends of your couch. You were sketching in a notebook and Mingi was reading a graphic novel, glasses perched on his nose and hair a little ruffled as if he had been absently running his fingers through it.

It was an adorable habit of his, messing up his hair as he focused on something. You smiled to yourself as you peered at him, looking back down to continue sketching.

You had lost yourself in the moment until you heard your phone go off. Thinking nothing of it, you flipped it over, blood immediately running cold at the familiar number on the screen.

Mingi looked over at you, dropping his book when he noticed the look on your face. You were frozen in shock, not sure what to do.

Mingi entered your line of sight as the ringing stopped, taking your phone out of your hands and placing it back on the coffee table. Grabbing your hands in his large ones, he squeezed, drawing your attention back to him.

“Hey, look at me. You’re shaking. Look in my eyes. Match your breathing to mine, okay?” Mingi grabbed one of your hands and placed it to his chest, prompting you to regulate your breathing to help you stave off the impending panic attack.

As you continued to breathe, you heard the phone go off again, prompting another small spike of panic.

“Hey, hey. Keep your eyes on me. Do you want me to answer it and talk to them?”

Unable to form words due to the rising panic and bile in your throat, you gave Mingi a barely perceptible nod.

“Okay. I’ll deal with it. What I need you to do for me is to keep your hands on your thighs and keep working on your breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Can you do that for me?”

He holds your gaze as you nod again.

“Alright, I’m going to let go of your hands now. I’ll be in the kitchen, in your direct line of sight. I won’t be long, I promise.”

He gives your hands another squeeze as he turns to grab the phone. A scowl crosses his features and he has to take a deep breath to prevent himself from blowing up at your ex over the phone.

Swiping the screen, he answers.

“What do you want, asshole?” Mingi practically growls.

“Mingi? Where’s y/n?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s where. Why are you calling? It’s been months. What the fuck could you possibly want?” Mingi seethes.

He supposes he could handle this a little more calmly, but he’s fucking LIVID at this idiot for the way they hung you out to dry.

“Hey man, lose the hostility. I’m not trying to start anything, I just want to come get the things I left at y/n’s place. Can I come by and grab it this weekend?”

Mingi sees red.

“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not letting you anywhere near y/n after the shit you pulled. What you’re gonna do is text me a list of the things you need, and I’ll leave them outside for you,” his voice low, dangerous, as he growls into the receiver.

“Jesus Christ Mingi, when did you become their guard dog? I always knew you two had something going on between you,” came the snide reply of your ex.

And there it was. If Mingi weren’t pissed before, he was furious now. That insecurity must’ve been festering long enough for them to seek comfort in someone else instead of being and adult and talking to you about it.

Though Mingi wondered if even that would’ve been enough for the sniveling little insecure worm to have been satisfied.

Drawing in a breath, Mingi closed his eyes and counted to 5 before responding.

“Y/n is my best friend. I’m sorry that your insecure ass couldn’t handle them having me as a friend. If that’s the reason you broke up with them, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were. You could’ve, you know, fucking TALKED to them about this instead of seeking comfort in the next person who fucking blinks at you. Pathetic. Send me your list, and don’t contact y/n ever again. We’re done here.” He hangs up before your ex can get another word in.

He continues to seethe. He can’t believe that little worm had the gall to show their face again all these weeks later. Steadying himself and forcing calming breaths, he turns his gaze back to you, eyes closed and head reclined back on the couch as you breathe deeply.

He pads back over to you, clearing his throat to announce his presence to prevent you from startling. You slowly crack your eyes open at his large form in front of you.

He kneels in front of you again, resuming the position with your hands in his.

Your voice is small and a little cracked as you speak.“What did they want?”

“They want their worthless stuff back. Why they couldn’t do this weeks ago is beyond me. Regardless, they want their shit.”

Your eyes widen in panic a bit. They’re going to come here? You don’t know if you can handle seeing them again.

Mingi squeezes your hands again. “Don’t worry, they’re not getting within 100 yards of you, I promise. We’ll gather everything and leave it outside so you don’t have to interact with them at all. I’m making them send me a list of everything.”

At this, your breathing evens out a bit, shoulders sagging in relief. Mingi leans forward to engulf you in his arms. “I’m here for you, y/n. You don’t have to do any of this alone. Ever.”

Once again leaning into his touch, you let Mingi embrace you until you feel your heartbeat and breathing returning to normal.

Finally calmed down, the encounter had left you absolutely wrung-out. “Min, I’m exhausted. Can you bring me to my room?”

“Of course, hold on tight.” He wrapped his arms tighter around you and hoisted you up off the couch. Curling into him, he walked you to your room and placed you down on the bed.

You shifted to get under the covers and he came around to lay next to you. You rolled over and rested your head on his chest, immediately being enveloped in his embrace.

He caressed your hair softly as he spoke. “Remember, I’m here for you and you’re not going to do this alone. We’ll start sorting through their things when you’re ready, and I’ll handle contact with them. We do this on YOUR terms. Not theirs. Alright?”

You nodded in assent and snuggled closer to Mingi as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you, Mingi,” you murmured into his chest.

He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head and you allowed your eyes to close and finally relax. You fell asleep that night in Mingi’s comforting embrace.

The week continued without any further contact from your ex, just as Mingi had promised. You were coming to terms with the fact you would have to face them, albeit in the form of their possessions, but face them and confront the memories and hurt you still felt.

After another few days, you felt that you were ready to confront them. You pulled out your phone to dial a familiar number.

“Min? I’m ready.”

Mingi arrived at your apartment about a half hour later with cardboard boxes, tote bags, and trash bags.

”Let’s fucking do this.”

———

You were fairly certain that most of your ex’s things were confined to your bedroom and ensuite bathroom, so that’s where you would concentrate your efforts.

You started with your dresser while Mingi focused on your closet.

Feeling unnerved by the silence, you decided to queue up a noisy playlist to fill some of the room and ease your anxiety over the situation. Mingi’s presence helped, but you figured that ambient noise would calm some of the buzzing in your brain and under your skin.

You heard Mingi chuckle when he realized what playlist you went for and you shot him a shy smile from your side of the room. He knew you well enough to understand you couldn’t handle silence when you were feeling anxious.

You heard his deep voice rumble out the rap of the song that was currently playing. You never failed to be amazed by the way he was able to follow the flow of a rap and add his own flair to whatever song he was going along to. In another life, you were sure he’d have a successful career as a rapper or an idol.

Having combed through your drawers and found all of your ex’s clothes, you shoved them into a trash bag and sealed it. You couldn’t care less if the clothes were wrinkled, the jackass deserved worse.

Steeling yourself, you moved over to Mingi’s side to work on the closet. When you reached him, you noticed him fixated on a box in the corner. You realized that it was the box of photos and other memories from your relationship that you had unceremoniously tossed in the corner like they had unceremoniously ended your partnership.

Your eyes began to well up with unshed tears and your breath hitched. Mingi immediately wrapped his arms around you and brought his focus to you. “You’re not alone. Remember, I’m right here. We don’t need to go through that box today. I still think we should burn it all, but it’s your choice on what to do with it,” he spoke softly into your hair.

You shuddered out a deep breath. “It’s okay. I knew in the back of mind that it was there, seeing it just caught me off guard.”

He held you steady as you re-regulated your breathing to match his, just like he taught you. Feeling calmed down, you opened your eyes and felt a new wave of determination wash over you. Mingi’s comforting words and embrace bolstered the confidence that you could get through this.

Leaving the box in the corner for last, the two of you combed through your clothes and other effects to gather all of your ex’s errant belongings and shove them in the bags and boxes Mingi had brought.

Your ex had left a surprising amount of clothing and a few pairs of shoes, so it was no wonder they finally came around to asking for their items returned. It wasn’t your fault they were thoughtless enough to leave shit at your place while they were warming someone else’s bed.

“I want to leave the box for last. I’m fairly certain it’s mostly photographs and other paper items. Let’s go over to the bathroom and deal with whatever bullshit they left there.”

“I’m sure they left half empty toiletries that we can just trash,” intoned Mingi. “No need to save any of that shit and burden us with excess bags.”

You nodded and moved to stand, but Mingi beat you to it, holding out his hand to help you to your feet.

Moving into the ensuite, you noticed that Mingi was dead-on in his assessment. Most of the things left were half empty tubes and bottles along with a used disposable razor and toothbrush you were absolutely not going to keep. You had half a mind to clean the toilet with it and give it back to your ex, but decided against it and tossed it into the trash.

The only other items of theirs that you had found around your apartment were the PlayStation, a few charging cables, books, and a pair of headphones.

Confident you had rid your apartment of the bad energy left by your ex’s belongings, you packed everything up and brought it into the living room.The only thing that remained was the box in the corner of your closet.

Mingi brought it out into the living room wordlessly and set it on the coffee table.

“What do you want to do?”

You took a steadying deep breath. Proud of yourself for coming this far, you were inclined to push through and get it over with, but you knew that some of the memories would engulf your emotions and you felt it was probably best to take a break first.

“I think I want to take a break and get something to eat. Maybe take a nap before I get into it.”

“Do you want me to drop this shit off? It doesn’t need to stay here while you relax. The sooner we’re rid of it, the better you’ll feel.”

You were so grateful Mingi was willing to do all of this for you. Cutting out direct interaction with your ex and going in your stead so that you wouldn’t have to.

You loved Mingi so much.

“Thank you Min, I honestly can’t thank you enough for being willing to do this for me.”

“I told you, y/n, you aren’t alone, and you never will be.”

You almost started crying right there. He noticed your shift in mood and came to sit beside you on the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I’ll call them and let them know I’m dropping this shit in their front yard. That’s all the warning they need.”

Mingi squeezed you a little tighter before dropping his arm and tilting your chin up to look at him.

“I’ll be back in a few hours with some food. Take a nap and relax for a bit and then we’ll have dinner from one of your favorite takeout places. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like heaven, Min. Thank you so much.”

He smiled at you and his eyes crinkled in the way you loved. “Of course. I’ve always got you.”

You returned his smile easily. “Okay, I’m going to shower and get rid of some of these bad vibes after handling so much of their shit, and then I’m going to nap. Thank you again for all of your help today.”

“No problem, y/n. Now go shower, you reek of bad vibes,” he wrinkled his nose playfully and chuckled.

You giggled back and smacked his arm lightly for the barb.

You both got up and you pulled him in for a hug. Surprised by your show of strength, Mingi let out an “oof” as you slammed into him and squeezed his abdomen.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight for a moment before you let go and disappeared into your room.

Unbeknownst to you, he followed your retreating figure with an easy smile and all the fondness in the world for you, and pride for your strength and resilience the past few months.

He made quick work of gathering all the bags and boxes and brought them down to his car. Dialing your ex’s number, he barely waited for the call to connect before he was speaking. “I’ve got all your shit and I’m leaving it in your front yard in the next 30 minutes. After this, you have no connection to y/n. You don’t get the privilege,” Mingi spoke tonelessly.

He heard your ex seethe on the other end of the line. “Fine. You’re an ass, Mingi.”

He chuckled darkly, “I could say way fucking worse about you. Delete y/n’s number. We’re done here.” He ended the call and promptly blocked the number.

Satisfied, Mingi started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot of your apartment.

Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, as promised, Mingi unceremoniously dumped everything in the grass outside the house. Sending a middle finger and sarcastic salute at the house, he got back in the car and drove off.

An hour later, you were woken to the sound of your front door closing and the shuffling sound of plastic takeout bags.

You groggily stretched as you heard Mingi making his way around the kitchen to prepare the food for you both.

You shuffled yourself toward the kitchen table to find Mingi setting out a literal feast before you.

“Jeez Min, did you buy out the whole shop or something? There’s just the two of us!”

He chuckled “I wanted you to have all of your favorites and enough for leftovers. I know how much you like to snack late at night.

You pursed your lips at him as he continued pulling containers out. “I hate that you know me so well sometimes.”

He shot you a smug look as you went over to the kitchen to pull out plates, silverware, and glasses for your meal.

You and Mingi enjoyed a comfortable silence during your meal, feeling immense relief that much of the daunting task of confronting your ex’s belongings was almost complete.

“Did you see them when you dropped everything off? Did they say anything to you?”

Mingi chuckled darkly and shrugged. “Nope, the fucker wasn’t home and I just dropped everything on the front lawn. Not my stuff, not my problem.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Well at least it’s out of our hands now. Thank you again for doing that for me.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know I’d do it for you in a heartbeat, just as you’d do the same for me.”

You smiled at each other and continued eating in peace.

———

You and Mingi were seated on the floor around your coffee table with the box in front of you.

“Are you ready?” Mingi asked gently.

Closing your eyes and taking a few steadying deep breaths, you centered yourself before nodding and removing the lid from the box.

Your plan was to thumb through everything as quickly as possible to make sure you weren’t destroying anything actually valuable.

The box contained years worth of photographs, polaroids, notes, tickets, trinkets, and countless memories. It was almost painful to see the container filled to the brim with paper, knowing what it had cost you in the end.

You knew you were better off without your ex, but you were still dealing with the fallout and had to remind yourself that it was okay to grieve.

Sensing your hesitation, Mingi shifted and pulled you over his lap and between his legs, startling you.

“I’m going to be right behind you to help ground you, okay? I won’t let you go.”

You felt your eyes well up and sniffled, leaning back into his chest as he wrapped an arm around your midsection and placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you, Min, this feels nice.”

Having his warm, steady presence behind you made it easier to breathe, knowing you weren’t doing this alone.

With a newfound sense of calm and determination, you began sifting through the box, separating everything into piles you categorized as “trash,” “pawn,” and “burn.”

Mingi didn’t say anything as you worked, just held you and rubbed your sides and shoulders to comfort you and remind you that he was right there.

It ended up taking you about an hour to sort through everything.

Taking a deep breath and placing your hands on the table, you surveyed the piles.

You felt, rather than heard Mingi chuckle behind you, clearly amused at the size of the “burn” pile.

“Mingi, are you a secret pyromaniac?”

He chuckled again. “No, I just think that for situations like this it can be freeing to let everything go with a little fire.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Yes, I’ve burned things for myself but I also helped some friends in college when they went through a similar situation. It made them feel a little better, so I figured it would be beneficial for you as well.”

You hummed, considering his words as he shifted behind you. “Alright then. I think to start we throw the garbage out and then take some of these nicer items to the pawn shop to see what we can get for them. I doubt they gave you anything truly expensive, but some of these things might fetch a few bucks. Then we use the firepit in my backyard to burn the rest. Does that sound alright to you?”

“I think that sounds perfect. Are you free tomorrow?”

He shifted again and pulled out his phone to pull up his calendar. “Looks like I’m open all day. Let’s go for it.”

You turned and smiled at him over your shoulder as he squeezed you around the waist.

Tomorrow, you would be free of your ex for good.

———

When you woke up the next morning, you felt simultaneous looming anxiety and relief over what you and Mingi were going to do today.

Letting go of a significant part of your life was never easy, but you finally felt like you were ready.

You stretched your stiff joints and ambled to the bathroom to start your morning. In the shower, you close your eyes and let the hot water run over you, soothing some of the morning ache and relaxing you further. Showers always have a profound calming effect on you.

After finishing your morning routine, you texted Mingi to let him know you were ready for the day. He showed up at your door about a half hour later with two coffees and a bag of pastries from your favorite cafe in tow.

You smiled brightly as you greeted him, hugging him tightly as he placed everything on the counter. “Are you ready for this? How are you feeling?” Mingi asked from above you in the embrace. You looked up at him, his concerned but soft gaze searching your face for any obvious signs of distress or discomfort.

You gave him an easy smile back, grateful for his presence. “I think I’m good. I feel...well I don’t know how to describe it. But I definitely am ready to get rid of all this extra shit.” You gazed back at the piles of garbage bags from yesterday’s cleaning spree, a pang of grief making itself present, knowing what you were about to do.

You shook it off after a minute, letting yourself feel, but strengthening your resolve that this was the correct choice. You looked back to Mingi and squeezed him a little tighter. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied.

He hummed above you as he replied “Good. Remember, I will be with you every step of the way today.”

Nodding into his chest, you further steeled yourself into action. Finally turning out of his embrace, you made your way over to the garbage bags. You cracked your neck and hands and rolled your shoulders, ready to rid yourself of the phantom of your ex.

Mingi made his way to your side, catching your eye and giving you a nod as he bent to pick up some bags. You nodded back and followed suit, grabbing the remainder and hefting them up off the floor.

Trudging out of your apartment with the bags and Mingi in tow, you made your way down to the parking lot to throw the actual garbage away in the dumpster, saving the burn pile for later.

Mingi hefted his bags into the bin and dusted off his hands. Turning to you, he clocked your emotions again, ready to act if you changed your mind about all this. Seeing nothing but determined steel in your gaze, he grabbed the burn pile and cleared his throat.

“Ready?” He asked.

You closed your eyes and took a centering breath.

“Ready.” You replied with conviction.

Mingi brought the bags to the backseat of his car and opened the passenger door for you to climb in. Settling yourself inside and buckling your seatbelt, you kept your eyes forward, waiting for Mingi to start the engine.

Not wanting to spend time inside your own head, you turned the radio on as Mingi started the car and prepared to head over to his place.

Mingi, noticing your effort to stay present, kept easy conversation at the forefront.

“Do you want to pick up some snacks on the way, or should we scour my pantry?” He asked, eyes focused forward on the road.

“Honestly, I think stopping would be fine. Lord knows what kind of amalgamation of frat boy apartment snacks we’d create out of the bare bones of your pantry,” you joked.

“Hey now, I resent that! I keep my pantry stocked and ready for company!” He retorted.

“Min, bags of mashmallows and the odd can of soup don’t exactly create the most enticing meals,” you chuckled as he pouted.

“Fine, I guess you’ll never know the joys of my culinary prowess,” Mingi sighed.

You laughed, keeping up the conversation as you pulled up to the grocery store for snacks.

“Would it be too gauche to roast marshmallows and hotdogs over the fire?” You pondered.

Mingi let out a loud cackle at the idea. “No, I don’t think so. But if you had a hesitation in doing so, I say we stick with the basic gathering foods. Chips and dip, perhaps charcuterie?”

“Now you sound pretentious. A whole charcuterie spread as we burn photos of my ex. Should we add aperol spritzers to the mix?” You giggled.

“You laugh, but that sounds perfectly lovely for an evening like this,” shrugged Mingi.

“Alright fine, you pick the snacks and I’ll go along with what you decide,” you acquiesce, not particularly caring what you eat, as your appetite had fluctuated throughout the day.

Finally packed back into the car, you and Mingi rode in companionable silence back to his apartment, the radio playing a calming playlist in the background.

As you arrived at Mingi’s, he grabbed all the groceries while you grabbed the bags holding your tainted memories.

Bringing everything around the back to the patio, you settled yourself in one of the Adirondack chairs while Mingi puttered around setting up the snacks.

Once he was confident in his snack spread, he turned to assess your mood.

“How are you feeling?” As asked as he came to kneel in front of you.

“I’m…surprisingly okay I think.” You looked up into his earnest eyes and felt the warmth radiating out of him. You once again felt overwhelmed gratitude at having Mingi in your life.

Reaching out to place your palm on his cheek, you regarded him in a soft voice. “Thank you for doing this with me, it means the world to me to have you in my corner.”

Mingi smiled and leaned into your palm. “Best friends for life, remember? I’ve always got your back just like I know you’ve got mine.”

You smiled and allowed yourself this moment of comfort.

Finally ready, you dropped your hand and nodded up to Mingi. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Mingi nodded in return and set to work starting the fire in the pit.

You watched as he expertly set the kindling in place between the wooden logs, allowing it to catch fire and create a beautiful, warm fire.

Once the fire was going strong, you finally stood up and stared into the embers.

Were you ready for this? Could you bring yourself to place all of these memories into the flames?

Mingi, sensing your hesitation, made his way to your side and placed his large palm on your shoulder, channeling his support into you.

You heard him quietly in your ear. “It’s okay. You can do this. Burn it.”

Feeling the comfort of his warm palm on your skin, you shook off the doubt and hesitation, ready to start this next phase of your life.

You turned to the bags, opening up the first one and grabbing the first photo you saw.

It was a lovely shot of you and your partner standing beneath the beautiful blooms of a cherry blossom tree. An image that once evoked so much happiness and comfort in you now felt hollow.

You allowed yourself to mourn the peace this image once brought you, tracing your hand over the memories of what once was. Then, with a steady hand, you brought the image forward, and slowly lowered it into the flickering flames.

Allowing the picture to catch fire at the ends, the flame slowly licking its way up through the center of the photo, taking with it the image of your ex.

Once the flames reached your visage, you carefully dropped it into the fire, letting it engulf the rest of the photo, erasing it from existence.

You allowed tears to leak from the corner of your eyes, a mixture of sadness and cathartic release taking over your emotions.

Throughout this, Mingi’s hand stayed firmly planted on your shoulder, bolstering you. He knew how hard this was for you, and he was so proud of you for taking this first step.

You leaned back, allowing Mingi’s arms to encircle you as you cried for what once was, for the last time.

After a while, the tears dried up and you and Mingi pulled some chairs closer to the fire so that you could snack while dropping memories into the flames.

You told stories associated with the photos and other mementos, allowing yourself to feel as you dropped each reminder into the fire, watching as each piece of your old relationship turned to ash.

Mingi stayed strong next to you, listening intently and keeping a hold on you in any way that he could, be it holding your hand, touching your arm, or putting an arm around your shoulders, keeping his promise to not leave you alone through this.

Eventually, the snacks ran out and the number of photos in the bags dwindled down to one single image remaining.

It was a candid shot you had taken of your ex, one you had adored and kept close to you at your workstation. You gazed upon the photo, once again allowing yourself to feel and remember, building up the emotion to let it release in a mix of blue and red flames. Ready to let it burn.

Touching the tip of the photo to the fire, you coaxed the flames to consume the last image. Placing it delicately on the wood, you watched as the corners of the photo met in the middle, turning what remained into a pile of embers.

It was done. You were finally free of your ex.

Sitting back, but keeping your eyes on the flames, you felt Mingi embrace you once again.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. You did it. You are free of them, free to live your life on your own terms. I can wait to see you continue to grow from here,” he murmured into the dusk.

You felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude once again. The love you feel for your best friend bursting out of you into a comforting warm glow you always associated with Mingi.

“Thank you Mingi, for everything. Always.”

Resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of a bonfire and the warm embrace of your best friend as he pulled you closer. Opening your eyes, you watched the whispers of memories turn into nothing but a pile of ash and fading embers.

You stayed like this for hours, soaking in the comfort of friendship and embracing the strength derived from overcoming grief.

As you gazed in the dying embers of memories of a life once lived, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace finally settle deep in your bones.

Rising from the ashes of despair, from this day forward, you are reborn anew.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #song mingi #ateez ff #ateez fic #mingi #ateez mingi

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m1lkyw4yw1sh3z · 2 days ago

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MAD SCIENTIST SPRUNK IS CRAZYYY AND IM ALL FOR IT!!! I so wanna talk about itttt it’s been on my minddd

Yippee yippee yippee glad you enjoy the AU concept :) !!!

In this AU, Black/Hatter comes from a species of aliens that is known to travel across galaxies researching different forms of intelligent life. In 90% of cases said species' work is entirely benign and non-invasive, just driven by curiosity and a desire to increase their understanding of their universe. They like to observe, not to meddle-

What Hatter ends up putting the Sprunkis through is an EXTREME outlier, very much not the norm. Had his colleagues known what he was planning, he'd have never gotten away with it, even. We cannot emphasize enough that this is not normal for his species.

Hat's just got an incredibly warped view on ethics and a weakness for the sunk cost fallacy :(

Once he really starts making himself at home in the town, we think he'd get along best with Clukr and Garnold, since they're fellow scientists (albeit more so in the engineering/computer science realm).

They swap stories of their respective scientific discoveries, constantly trying to subtly one-up each other lol. It's all in good fun though!! Perhaps if circumstances were different, the three of them could have created great things together...

This post is already getting a bit long lol, putting the rest under the read more-

Warning for slight themes of psychological horror 👍

This version of Hatter does care about the Sprunkis on some level. It unfortunately just happens that his care for them is overshadowed by his desire to go through with his experiments. He's too stubborn to change his plans, too selfish even.

He cares about them, maybe even claims to love some of them (platonically)... but in the end it's more so as a cherished research project than as friends.

This results in his interactions with them being somewhat contradictory. He's manipulating them, but he shows no ill will towards those unwilling to trust him. He's not acting out of malice, after all, and he's perfectly willing to play the long game to ensure things play out as simply and painlessly as possible-

In the meantime, he can enjoy being around them, can enjoy pretending they mean something more to him than just mildly interesting samples on a petri dish.

Befriending them, learning about them on a more personal level, it becomes something of a side project to him.

He never does earn that trust, of course. A shame.

#sprunki #sprunki black #sprunki silver #sprunki gold #sprunki white #sprunki au #fluffyscribblez #//not a ship//#//if it wasn't clear he's still EXTREMELY awful in this AU//#//just in a different way//#//mad scientist core way sdlfkj//#//instead of being some eldritch pure evil monster he's just. a horrible inconsiderate person//#//he has POTENTIAL to be better and he gets SO CLOSE at points but he just chooses selfishness at every turn//#//this interp. is kind of inspired by what the creator said about how canon black sometimes acts caring towards the sprunkis btw//#//we just took that concept and ran with it sdlfkj//#blood tw #//ask to tag//

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merp-blerp · 3 days ago

Text

Gaylor/Kaylor and Oz: Parallels and Theories Vol. 2 🌼🌈❇️

CW: Spoilers for L. Frank Baum's Oz book series (books 1-15). And this post is very late-stage-Kaylor-specific, so if that's not up your alley, that's chill.

Vol. 1 Here (I recommend reading Vol. 1 before this one)

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

AH! I'm so ecstatic that I get to make another one of these so quickly! I was so proud of Vol. 1 and I'm so happy there's new material to explore! Thank you very much for the reception to Vol. 1, I'm so glad people liked it. It's cool to see other people who probably didn't even see my post seemingly make the Return To Oz connections as well. It makes me feel "smart". 😅

Part 1: The Tin Woodman ❤️🌈

Let's start out with something small and old news. A theory that's new to me is the Tin Woodman's role in gaylor theories (He's very specifically called "Tin Woodman" in the books, not Tinman, so I'll call him by his book name so as to not blur the line of exactly which version of the character I'm talking about). This collage by iateallthecat2 on Twitter (from this post) brought it to my attention:

I'm not sure if there's already some in-depth theory that goes beyond this collage out there, so I'm gonna wing it from here based on my own Oz knowledge.

In the "ME!" MV, Brendon Urie's character is a suitor that Taylor rejects. They fight when inside a house and she rejects his proposal, but when he gifts her something with no general romantic meaning, a cat, they spend the rest of the MV having a good, platonically-coded time. Brendon plays someone who wants to play the role of Taylor's partner, but they seemingly work better as buds in their rainbow haven.

I have wondered if Brendon is supposed to be playing a beard who Taylor tries to take to freedom with her in this MV, but I'm admittedly slightly apprehensive about the idea. It would be kinda cool if one or more of Tay's beards also came out with her whenever she does. This plotline seems very similar to the suspected "she ghosted but kept the castle" narrative. In both Taylor rejects a proposal, except here Taylor and her beard seem more connected. It makes me wonder, if everything had gone to plan, would the narrative in 2019 have been that presumably Joe would've proposed and Taylor would have rejected it but they would've been on friendly terms. Or maybe all of that would've happened to Karlie and Josh in a way since they were married in 2018. Or maybe it would've happened to both of them. Then they would've been able to build a narrative for Kaylor as a couple that didn't involve saying "We hid this from you for this long". But that's spitballing.

Either way, Brendon is definitely someone who helps Taylor along her "story" as he infamously put himself:

Everyone knows that the Tin Woodman helps Dorothy on her journey, but he also helps out Ozma/Tip on hers in the second book and so on.

In the first book, the Tin Woodman's backstory is that he was once a human named Nick Chopper, who was engaged to a Munchkin girl named Nimmie Amee. While Nick seems to respect and love her, he also seems to only be engaged to her because he doesn't want to be lonely after the death of his parents, at least to me. But the Wicked Witch of the East curses Nick to chop off his limbs whenever he tries to chop wood. He gets these limbs replaced with tin parts until he is fully tin. But his body no longer needed a heart and therefore he felt no romantic love for Nimmie Amee, so their relationship fizzled out.

Whether he ever romanticly loved her in the first place is debatable in my opinion. I personally don't think he did, especially since long after he's gotten the realization that he had a heart, Nick never really tries to romanticly pursue Nimmie Amee again, but he does tie loose ends with her in The Tin Woodman of Oz. However, my point is that Nick seems to only want Nimmie when he thinks she can fill a void. Once he thought he was too broken for her to fix he subconsciously realized he didn't actually love her, but interpreted it as though he just "stopped" loving her.

To put it simply, I see Nick as practically going through comphet before finding true fulfillment in the things that come after he's un-rusted. My personal interpretation of Nick is that he is a gay man, unbeknownst to him, who tries to find love in a woman, but it inevitably doesn't work. He loved Nimmie because he hoped she could fix his pain. There's no way to prove Baum meant Nick to be seen this way, but queer interpretations of Nick are common in modern Oz fan circles. Somewhat like Taylor and Brendon in "ME!", Nick and Nimmie try to play the roles of a couple, but being a couple just isn't in the cards for them, so they keep things platonic.

In comparison, Nick loves the Scarecrow for the actual companionship he gives. The Tin Woodman states that he no longer needs Nimmie's love, as he has the Scarecrow's. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are pretty similar to Dorothy and Ozma in terms of being queer-coded in their relationship. They live close to one another because they're sadder apart, cordially debate philosophy, rule Winkie Country together, and are often depicted comfortably in each other's physical space, among other wholesome details.

The physical representation of the Tin Woodman's heart is made of a velvet pouch and sawdust in the books, but in the '39 film Tinman's heart is a ticking clock with daisies stringed to it. Of course, daisies have a great significance to Kaylor because of the Big Sur trip. And clocks have been having a significance in Taylor's art since "The Man" and the Karma wall.

I don't necessarily think Karlie, Taylor, or Brendon are represented through the Tin Woodman, Nimmie, and the Scarecrow in Taylor's art in a literal sense. I see it as just another queer piece of the puzzle. Brendon might not literally be the Tin Woodman in Taylor's art the same way Karlie is Dorothy, but I think he at least played him during the Lover era. Brendon/Tin Woodsman helps Taylor/Ozma through her journey to where she belongs like a queer friend helping another queer friend.

Also, I'll leave this section off on this reach cutesy note:

Part 2: Ozma and the Wizard 🌺🪄

Back in Vol. 1, I suggested a theory that if Karlie Kloss was represented as Dorothy Gale in Taylor's music, then Taylor was more subtly represented as Queen/Princess Ozma. I've been seeing another theory around about Taylor being the Wizard, aka Oscar Diggs. I also really like this theory and I think it can make sense for both theories to exist simultaneously.

The Wizard is an illusionist. In the first novel, when appearing to each of Dorothy's friends individually he appears as something different to all of them. To Dorothy, he is a giant floating head, to the scarecrow he is a fairy, to the tinwoodsman he is a beast, and to the cowardly lion he is a ball of fire. He is able to change himself into anything he pleases, but he has no real magic. In order to rule over Oz unrightfully, Oscar Diggs stole Ozma away as a baby and gave her to a witch named Mombi, who transformed Ozma into a boy named Tip, disguising Ozma from everyone and herself; in the second book, Ozma is transformed back to her true form and takes her place as ruler of Oz, eventually ruling with Dorothy by her side. To make a long story short, Ozma and Dorothy eventually forgive Oscar for his crimes.

I see Oscar/the Wizard as representing Performance Taylor, while the real Taylor is Ozma. The Wizard is from Kansas in the '39 film and performance Taylor is currently associated with the Kansas City Chiefs. Performance Taylor, just like Oscar, is able to change himself when needed and isn't the unstoppable being his citizens once believed in despite never meeting him. Just like Oscar, Performance Taylor is an illusionist who appeases the citizens with theatrics to hide the truth for the time being. Performance Taylor/Oscar hides the real Taylor/Ozma away. Real Taylor/Ozma, when seen, is forced into the shape of a boy, Tip/James, Peter, the Man, etc. But soon Ozma reclaims her land and keeps the castle Oscar took, and so might the real Taylor.

If you believe Post Malone is playing a side of Taylor in the "Fortnight" MV, Taylor seems to be depicting herself as coming together with both the public and private parts of herself. Previously in MVs for songs like "...Ready For It", Taylor was always at odds with her clone, but in "Fortnight" they team up to get out of the asylum. Ozma and Dorothy make amends with Oscar and Taylor makes amends with herself.

Part 3: The Yellow Brick Road and The Emerald City 🟨❇️

I think a lot of us know about Taylor's Instagram grid currently aligning with yellow outfits from Eras at the moment:

Typically when Taylor's Instagram grid aligns like this it means something. The most common theory as to what this might mean is that Taylor is creating a yellow brick road. Yellow is often seen as the closeting color in gaylor circles for various reasons, such as the Evermore closet in The Lover House being filled with yellow clothes. Some fun estimates I've seen are that soon the alignment will be broken by some type of photo of Taylor in a green outfit post-Eras, like maybe a green outfit from tour in her Toronto thank you post or even her birthday post. The big hope right now is that this hypothetical post in a green outfit will signify Taylor's coming out being near, having reached her destination to the Emerald City, or that this green outfit post could even be a coming out post. My Oz-ian brain loves this idea! The yellow road to being free in the green, the color right after yellow in the rainbow.

In the first Oz book, the Emerald City is a huge hoax. It's not Emerald at all, but white. In order to trick the citizens of Oz into thinking that the city is emerald, the Wizard forces everyone to wear green-lensed spectacles that lock on; they are what make the city look green, the Wizard lying that they wear them because the brightness of the city would blind them if they didn't. Dorothy is given a "green" dress when she arrives in the Emerald City, but when she leaves it reveals itself as actually being white. After the first book, the Emerald City becomes truly emerald; from what I can remember there is no exact canonical reason as to why this is, so I theorize that the citizens just made it emerald after the wizard floats away in his balloon. The Emerald City truly being white represents the fakeness within the rule of the Wizard, but by the time Oz has its rightful ruler, Ozma, the city is truly Emerald. For TTPD and most if not all of Tay's discography, the colorless world represents the abusive music industry and closeting, but color represents Taylor's freedom, reclaiming the land. Also, the fictional Emerald City was inspired by the real-life White City Amusement Park that was once in Chicago, so there's that connection to white too. Green and White together remind me of Taylor's green band jacket in the "ME!" MV and her white band jacket in the "TSMWEL" performance from Eras. Symbolism-wise, Taylor thought she was close to reaching her destination when creating Lover, but the smallest man ruined it all and the emeralds were fake. Now she's about to go down the yellow road once more to get back to her emerald kingdom.

To expand on the colors of Oz a bit more, let's look at the house from "ME!"

Here's an official Oz map in case anyone finds it helpful:

This house in "ME!" is the starting point in the MV and the first room that we see is blue. Blue is the color of Munchkin Country in the Oz books, as every Oz region has a color. Munchkin Country is the first land of Oz we ever see and the starting point of "ME!" is blue just like it.

Then Taylor walks through a hall with blue walls and blue and yellow tiles on the floor. On her first trip to the Emerald City, Dorothy exclusively walks through Munchkin Country to the Emerald City, so the tile being blue and yellow signifies that this is only the first journey to the Emerald City.

The next room is a large green one. The Emerald City, right?

But when Taylor makes it out the front door, the house is white with some purple. Not the true Emerald City. Purple is for Gillikin Country. When Ozma is kidnapped by the Wizard of Oz and given to Mombi she lives in Gillikin Country as Tip. The Emerald City is (partly) white, Taylor's in her closet yellow, Ozma/true Taylor is dressed as a guy, and Ozma/true Taylor is yet to rule.

But finally, later in the video when Brendon and Taylor are on platonic terms, they run up to a massive green building with a rainbow beaming in front of it as they wear green clothes. I think this was intended to be the true Emerald City. The pink soldiers around it even look like the poppy field. I think it's notable that in the MV Brendon and Taylor run up to the Emerald City, but we never see them enter. I take that as acknowledging that Taylor wasn't there yet. "ME!" was not a coming-out video, it was a sprint toward that goal. So she wasn't inside the Emerald City quite yet, she was on the way, ever so close. However, as stated before, the smallest man ruined things, so this was retconned through Eras. However, if Taylor got to come out during Lover this would've been the final stop.

I was thinking that it would also be crazy if instead of a photo in a green outfit, we got one in red. In relation to Oz, red is Quadling Country. In the first book, it's the last place Dorothy journeys to before making it home. It's also where she meets Glinda for the first time (Glinda is the Witch of the South in the books and a different witch is the Witch of the North). Glinda is the only one who knows the real way to get Dorothy home, her silver shoes. So red would also be an interesting choice in this scenario, but green is definitely the more culturally recognizable choice.

I want to acknowledge the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" connection I've seen around, even though I don't think I have much to add to it. The idea is that Elton John's song "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" has thematic parallels to gaylor. This idea that Taylor could leave behind a toxicly ritzy world for something better. Elton is an openly gay man in Hollywood who had to deal with a lot of silly Hollywood games regarding his sexuality. The way "GBYBR" is used in his film Rocketman definitely depicts Elton deciding to fix his issues brought on by the industry's abuse. Could this be what Taylor's about to do herself in her own way? Leave behind the yellow cedar closet for a life that's true to her? Taylor wore this outfit that already had plenty of Kaylor tie-ins like the twinning Carolina Herrera fit and the panther necklace, but her shoes match the ones Elton wears in the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album cover as he steps in or out of the Ozian picture.

As an extra fun tidbit, let's work some Oz history into this! It is a commonly told story that L. Frank Baum's inspiration for the yellow brick road comes from a real road in Peekskill, New York. The myth is that Baum asked for directions to the military academy and was told to "Follow the yellow brick road." Even though this exact story is likely just a myth, it's certainly not unlikely that Baum saw those yellow bricks. While Peekskill is not New York City, of course, New York City has a big significance in Taylor's music. In "WTNY" she views it as a place where anyone can be free. New York City could be its own character in her music. If New York City is freedom it could be seen as an equivalent to Ozma's Emerald City. Peekskill isn't where the city is, it holds the road to it and freedom.

Conclusion 🌼

Again, it's so cool to have more to add on to this Oz theory. I admit that it feels a bit vindicating that I made Vol. 1 and in due time we got more Oz crumbs. Wow, can't believe Taylor saw my post. In all seriousness, this has been so much fun. I know there's the possibility of yet another part to this. If you feel like I've forgotten anything, let me know! Can't wait to know what's on the horizon!

#kaylor #late stage kaylor #lsk #gaylor #gaylor swift #friends of dorothea #friend of dorothea #lgbetty #lgbettys #gaylor theory #parallels and theories

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