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transmascanakin · 21 hours ago
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Thank u for tagging me Jams ! This should be fun
3 ships I like:
- Anderperry (dead poets society)
- Getacius (Gladiator II. Also i made that shipname up sorry)
- Bokacsek (puf)
(This was hard lmao im really not that hardcore shipper of anything anymore so uh. Yeah.)
First ship ever:
Romione i think? I still hold them close to my heart tbh
Last song I heard:
(according to spotify) Song about me by TV girl
Favourite childhood book:
Oh man. Both paul street boys and harry potter i guess. But theres so many i could pick for this one. Like warrior cats was also life changing? Idk
Currently reading:
Nothing :( outside of like. A bunch if fics of course. I really need to get back into reading
Currently watching:
Well. I was watching heartstopper season 3 but i watched my last ep like 2 months ago and Im not sure I'll continue. I'm a fandom person terrible at consuming media
Currently consuming:
Just drank a cherry milkshake my mom got me from lidl. It was one of those american brand ones and well. Not the best, wouldnt reccomend
Currently craving:
Kfc man i really want some chicken strips right neow
Np tags: @hamstyandfriends @eat-the-lemons @transmasclloyd @loncsie and anyone else who wants to !
9 10 Fandom Folks to Get to Know Better
Thanks so much for the tag @schofielded !!
3 Ships I Like
Okay so I’m currently writing for Anderperry so they have to be at the top of the list, Reddie is my beloved which I fear will follow me throughout my life so they’re next, and hmm idk what to put for my third one since I like to read for a lot of ships and have barely written for others. I think I’ll go with a surprise pick and say Boreo! Tragic gays for the win
First Ship Ever
Omg I actually cannot say it was too embarrassing. The first one I’m willing to say is Larry which is also embarrassing and I regret it but I fear the fanfic was so good sorry.
Last Song I Heard
Drums of Death by FKA Twigs. I am addicted, something about the beat is just so good.
Favorite Childhood Book
This is kind of hard for me because I mainly had author phases as a kid rather than just one book that I adored. Looking back, though, I would probably say The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo was my favorite. Her descriptions were so good that it made me want to eat paper like the mice.
Currently Reading
Four Minutes by Nataliya Deleva! It’s a queer Bulgarian novel I’m reading for my around the world goal and I’m really enjoying it so far!
Currently Watching
Just finished watching Swing Girls (2004) so I’m counting it since I’m between TV shows right now. Anyway the movie was so cute and feel-good, I definitely recommend!!
Currently Consuming
I had fried chicken for dinner if that’s what this is referring to. Anyway it was good!
Currently Craving
A strawberry limeade with added coconut and cream from Sonic 💔 I don’t have my car rn so I am stranded sadly
No pressure tags: @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @vinesandvellichor @good--merits-accumulated @lc-27 @axe-76 @dreadedwhim @poetrusic1959 @yawping-poets-society @scriptscraps @neilperryismine + open to anyone who wants to join!!
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causenessus · 2 days ago
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comforting you. | bungou stray dogs
inc. chuuya, dazai, ranpo, odasaku
written is second pov (no gendered pronouns used)
"you deserve this." by men i trust
word count: 4.6k words
notes/warnings: separate scenarios for each bsd man and how they comfort you when you’re feeling down, giving you both love and realistic advice. i feel like i bounced between writing generalized headcanons and hyperspecific scenarios, so i’m sorry but i hope you enjoy this <3 each of you is deserving of so much love and patience <3 you deserve to be here <3 each pairing is in an established relationship. also (relevant for odasku’s scenario), the orphans are still alive. my writing my universe. i'm actually beastzai in another au where everyone lives and is happy and everything is okay. use of pet names "sweetheart" (chuuya scenario) "angel" (dazai scenario) and "love" (oda). general hurt/comfort drabbles :) lmk if I should add anything! i would NOT consider this proofread because I read it half-asleep at midnight trying to edit it so forgive me for any mistakes 🙏
special shoutouts to @dorotheasdiary + @aouzi for hyping me up/listening to my rambles abt this work!! sorry for the tag </3
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chuuya.
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sometimes the urge to give up became too strong. 
was it too much to ask time to stop for just one day? it seemed all your pleas to the sky were falling on deaf ears.
still, as all things do, you eventually lost the motivation to keep pushing forward on your own.
like a runner who trips upon a small pebble and can’t get back into their pace, slowly, slowly falling behind the others.
the one difference was that you had come to a complete stop. you'd never allowed yourself a break until you were completely burnt out; unable to move even a muscle.
you haven’t even made it out of bed the whole day. 
the room was starting to feel sick and stuffy with how long you’d laid in those sheets that no longer seemed to provide any comfort. rather, you felt like you were simply dirtying the sheets by continuing to lie there, purposeless, useless.
you barely had it in you to call out of work before drifting back into a mundane sleep that you continued to wake up and fall back into for the better half of the day. you hadn’t looked at your phone after sending a quick text to your manager, unprepared for whatever kind of passive-aggressive response they'd messaged back with because of your late notice. the unknown was too much right now, you couldn't focus on anyone you couldn't read but yourself. you didn’t want to be around friends, family, or people out on the street, where your mind would run rapid laps around itself, trying to figure out what everyone thought of you.
at work, it was the same; sizing yourself up to your coworkers, figuring out how well-liked you were— how replaceable you would be if one day you suddenly up and dropped, or, more likely in your mind, you annoyed everyone enough that they let you go. 
never really knowing what others thought terrified you. obviously it wasn't the norm despite living in a world filled with those gifted with abilities to be able to read another's mind but that didn’t mean your mind could simply let the anxieties go. your head always seemed to be buzzing, preoccupied with concerns about something.
which is why you had tried to block everything out, the moment you woke up this morning and every rustle of your legs tumbled in the sheets was too loud for your ears; a playlist of music on shuffle played softly from your phone nearby, giving your brain something mindless to focus on while you had your head pressed between pillows to deafen out the rest of the world.
you didn’t feel any better or any energized despite how much you had slept today, but at the very least, sleep often took you away from constantly having to listen to whatever your mind wanted to rave and overthink next.
'what time is it? have i even gotten up once today? i should at least walk around. clean up. i'll never be motivated to get out of bed like this—' there your head went, taking one simple question and turning it into spindles of chains to wrap around your throat.
but when you feel the mattress sink beside you, suddenly everything goes quiet. the sheets become just sheets again–not something you’re sinking into or dirtying. someone has opened the curtains, revealing an orange sunset outside, and something nice is playing from the speaker of your phone, you realize.
he is the only one who doesn’t make your head spin. he is your grounding anchor, the gravitational force keeping your feet planted on this earth, opening your eyes to the beauty of the world you couldn’t otherwise see due your own anxieties.
“you been here all day?” he must have snuck in without you even hearing him (which isn’t hard to believe, considering the cushions you’d just been pressing to both of your ears), even giving him enough time to change. chuuya’s hair is still in a loose ponytail and he wears that black choker around his neck as always, but he’s dressed in a white shirt and some sweatpants, his gloveless hands reaching out to rub circles in your back.
he’s bare with you, and that’s what you love most about him.
you’ve had you’re insecurities about not being good enough for him and anything else typical within a relationship, but he never leaves you wondering. he grabs your hand to keep you from floating away too far, getting lost in your own thoughts, often pulling you back into the moment, when you’re lying in bed with him on quiet nights, the sides of your faces only lit by a nearby warm bedside lamp. he’ll trace the side of your face, searching your eyes, asking, “where did you go?”
and you can’t always answer, but you know, every time he asks you this question, that at least you can tell him where you are now. you’re at home with him. 
and this moment is no different, with his calloused hands gliding up and down your back, and you only let out a small whine, shuffling closer to him as best as you can with how tangled you are up in his sheets.
“what’s wrong?” he asks softly, head tilting towards you slightly as you shimmy closer. “how can i help, sweetheart?”
you like how clear he is. how he always tells you what he’s thinking. he never leaves anything up to interpretation, always silencing your thoughts before they can make an assumption and run far with it.
while in the beginning of your relationship, it was hard to always voice what you needed, you came to realize with time that when chuuya asked you what he could do to help, it wasn’t him pressuring you to tell him what was wrong. it was simply how his head worked; he wanted you to be clear about what you needed. if that meant talking out your problems, he would listen. if that meant leaving you alone, he’d give you as much time as you needed (albeit probably checking in at some points just to make sure you didn’t need anything, it was just his nature to care for you). but all in all, he just needed you to talk to him. he would talk to you, you would talk to him. that's how miscommunication was prevented. your mind always felt so clear when you were around him because of how rationally he seemed to think of everything—all you had to do was follow his lead, and everything else came easily. things were never sugar-coated between the two of you, they were said plain and simple. (and with how charming he was, chuuya’s words often ended up being just as sweet as sugar anyway, not even needing to be wrapped up in some false front. when he said “i love you,” it was something clear. a fact, not something said just to appease you or mellow things out, he said it because he meant it).
and how refreshing it was, being lost in a sea of your own murky, unclear thoughts based off of assumptions upon assumptions, to be pulled from that ocean to the shoreline and be promised that the sun would rise again.
eventually, opening up to him became easier. even thought it sometimes took a few hours, you always ended up telling him what was on your mind and he waited patiently every time. he only ever listened unless you asked for more, and he never invalidated your feelings. trusting that he was just going to listen to you, it began to take even less time to prepare yourself to open up. it became as easy as taking a sip of water; something you had to do voluntarily, but was still needed, healing, and often refreshing.
the pitch of your voice slightly heightens as you hum a “yes” in response to his question, curling up closer to him, and his fingers have found their way into your hair, combing through it. “got tired of everything,” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the side of his thigh, thankful for his contact.
“yeah? i’m sure you did, baby. you’re doing a lot. it’s good to take a break every now and then. anything in particular spur you to take the day off? there’s no shame in just deciding to take a rest day for the hell of it either, though,” he speaks as gently as his actions, shifting slightly on the bed so that you can rest more comfortably, your head now laying in his lap, and he brushes your hair out of your face as you look up at him and his pretty bangs framing his face as he leans down towards you.
you hum in thought at the question, searching your brain for the answer. was there something that had triggered you to break today? or was it just the build-up of it all? “not really anything in particular,” you shrug slightly, still admiring his golden-brown eyes, hooded and soft, gazing into your own, “just felt like everything came toppling down today. i’ve just been thinking too much about what others think of me. i don’t feel that important to the world, or my job. i’m easily replaceable–nothing special–and yet i have to keep fighting for this job. i have to fight to occupy space for myself in the world when i never even asked to be here in the first place. —and of course you make everything better but i mean–you know me. you’re good to me. you’re too good to me. and sometimes i can’t understand why you waste all of that goodness in you on me.” by the time you’re finished, he’s gently lifted your head out of his lap to lay down on his side next to you, continuing to face you the entire time. 
you finish your long-winded explanation of unreasonable worries, and he only stares into your face, and you begin to shift under his eyes uncomfortably. his head his propped up in his hands, and he wears a small smile on his face, eyes flicking every few moments to focus on a different part of your face. “...chuu?” you whisper his name quietly, and his smile only grows.
“sorry, got too caught up admiring your pretty face,” he apologizes, and there he goes again, being so honest it makes your heart squeeze sometimes. he shifts his position slightly, reaching out his free hand to intertwine his slender fingers with yours, gently pressing the pads of his fingertips against your own, playing with them. “well, first of all, don’t think of your life through the lens that you are now. you can’t control or read anyone else’s mind, and that’s okay. people make a lot of irrational decisions anyway, it’s impossible to predict what someone will do, so don’t worry about what they think. what makes how they perceive you or what they think more correct than what you feel? they could be totally wrong about something, and they are if they think you’re replaceable, or bad, or whatever. don’t make yourself smaller for anyone else. you’re so smart and thoughtful and if anyone makes you feel bad about who you are, i’ll talk shit back to them, alright?”
you nod at his words but don’t meet his attempt to lighten the mood, only shifting closer again, hiding your face in his chest, breathing in his scent. his hand is back on your head, keeping you close while combing through your hair. “i think you're perfect as you are, [y/n]. i wouldn't want you any other way. you're the only thing on my mind all the time and you’re all i think about—if you're worried about what goes through my mind. i'll always be here for you, i'll be right behind you even if the world is against you. all you need is me, i’d burn everything to the ground for you in a heartbeat."
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dazai.
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as a kid, you quickly learned not to fight back. 
others were allowed to be angry and lash out, but when you did the same, it was wrong wrong wrong.
when you were young, you learned that love was conditional.
there was no understanding when it came to your emotions. no matter the kind of day that you had you were still expected to always be kind and patient, and never yell back.
to be loved–or rather, to simply survive in this world, you had to be the smaller person; never expect someone to love you for who you are, but because they like that you’re agreeable, quiet, and passive. never expect anyone to care about how you feel, no matter how close of a friend they are.
and surely, you couldn’t expect any kind of empathy from a coworker.
but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, and you could feel the way your chest contracted, suffocating with you, every time you were the brunt of kunikida’s critiques. there was no middle between letting the man belittle you to a husk of your former self or the scariest option of all: say something and risk your dynamic with him worsening even more.
setting boundaries and speaking your mind had never been things that came easy to you, as admitting that something was wrong in your relationship with someone always seemed to leave a gaping hole in the relationship that would always be prevalent, at least to you. telling someone who seemed to be unaware of how unkind their words were “you’re hurting me” seemed to always make things awkward between you and the other party. they realized they could no longer throw you around and every time they left, you couldn't help but think you should've dealt with it and kept your mouth shut. 
so you smile and nod along to whatever kunikida’s ordering you to do next, fake laughing when he says something about how important the job is and to make sure you don’t fail, as if such an option was even possible. you had never messed up anything he asked you to do, and with how long he went on about the importance of the job, you never planned to. but his ending words always reminded you of how little your efforts seemed to matter to him. he would never trust you or see you as anything better than just a little office worker to dump work on.
your face drops as soon as the man turns his back to you, and you let out a quiet sigh before returning to the laptop in front of you before hands upon your shoulders scare you.
“caught you!” a voice pops up from behind you, making you exclaim, jumping in your seat, whipping your head around to see a familiar brown-haired man. he was always causing problems for kunikida and getting scolded, and yet he seemed to be able to take everything as a light-hearted joke. he came into work every day with a smile on his face and new ways to irritate kunikida, while you couldn’t see yourself ever returning to this office if that man yelled at you the way he yelled at the boy in front of you even once.
“dazai! you scared me,” your eyes follow him as he slides into the chair next to you, slightly rolling away from you with how he’d launched himself into the seat. “what did you…catch?” you ask, watching as he scoots closer back to you again, resting his cheek on a bandaged arm atop of the oak desk you both sit at.
“now, now. let's not try and act all innocent. why are you letting him talk to you like that if it hurts you?” he asks with a smile, while your face only pales, your heart completely freezing up the moment you hear the question you fear most. you have to tear your eyes away before he sees through you anymore, and you look down into your lap, where you’re picking at your fingers. if dazai noticed it, surely others did. had kunikida been able to read your face? had you offended him because you refused to communicate your true feelings with him? maybe you seemed like a stuck-up individual in his eyes if he could tell that you were faking with him, and you weren’t sure if him believing that lie or finding out the truth would be worse.
“well i…” you trail off when his fingers come into your line of sight, intertwining them with yours, stopping you from the bad habit.
“have i ever gotten upset with you for very understandably getting annoyed at my endless antics? have we ever disagreed on something we absolutely refused to resolve? no to both. but are humans creatures of imperfection by nature? have we all made mistakes? yes, and that’s why they’re able to forgive each other unless they’re insufferably stuck up. but don’t let your head turn kunikida into a monster he’s not. he’ll understand if you ask him to speak to you less directly, or with more belief in you. he’s giving you these jobs because he trusts you, you know. he just rambles on about the importance of them because that’s who he is. you know that, and you know him. you know he’ll work to treat others with the respect they deserve, you just have to tell him so first. but he’s not going to get mad at you,” your eyes flick up from where he’s running a thumb along your knuckles up to him, only to find him already looking at you with those warm hazel brown eyes of his. he’s right, and it feels nice to be seen and not bashed for your true feelings. instead, you're being understood. under his gaze, you no longer feel weak for how sensitive or emotional you may feel. he’s looking at you like you’re worth something, worth enough that you can fight for yourself, worth enough to deserve to be comfortable in your relationships, rather than used by those near you.
“thank you,” you mumble, and he’s pulled you close by the wheels of your own chair, your knees knocking as one of his hands reach up to caress the back of your neck, soothing you further as you continue to look at him.
his lips are still curved into a smile, not the trickster one he wears as he comes up with his next plot to harass kunikida, but a soft, genuine one, like he loves and cares about you, without you even asking anything of him. maybe this is what love is; being looked at and known, without even having to open your mouth.
“of course, angel,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against the back of your scalp, “bring it up while atsuhi or i are around if you want, we’ll help you explain how you feel. you’re not alone, you never were and you never have to be."
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ranpo.
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ranpo’s heightened abilities to observe, infer, and understand go far past anything related to his detective work. 
the first time he found you feeling down and wanted to comfort you, he defaulted to what he knows helps him feel better (i.e. sweet treats, dim lights, warm, quiet environments). the entire time, while his hand is on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you lean against him, soft cries muffled by the blanket he’s placed over you, his brain is running the entire time with what he can do best to support you; did you like what he brung you? do you prefer to isolate yourself or do you like the company when you’re feeling down? blankets or no blankets? do you want him to talk to you and try to provide a distraction or is just being there for you what you need? touch, or no touch?
ranpo is so attentive to your needs. whatever you want and is best for you, he will get you and do for you. he gives all thanks to fukuzawa, for helping him realize not everyone sees the world the way he does, all those years ago. since then, he’s learned to be more responsive, emotionally thoughtful, and soft-hearted in his responses if that’s that what you need. but if you want to hear logic and how he’s rationalizing out your situation, he can do that, too. again, he is completely willing to bend and shape himself to your needs. the only thing he will always push for is to be in a room with you when you’re feeling down, even if you don’t want company </3
he knows when you really need to be alone, but he doesn’t like to let you be on your own for too long. he’ll always be in the next room over if you need anything, quietly pacing the room, only worried and thinking of you and if he can do anything more for you. if you’re curled up in bed all night, he’ll eventually knock on the door to ask if he can sleep with you and keep you company. he wholeheartedly believes letting other people help you and be there for you helps, especially to prevent you from spiraling down any pits of despair or insecurity. he wants you to know how much he cares about you and your wellbeing, he wants to be there to hold you close, press gentle kisses to your head, and murmur promises that he’ll never ever leave you alone.
but if you say no to company, he is happy to sleep on the couch and will be up the moment you call his name if you need something or decide you do want company. he is there completely for you always and whenever, and all of it comes from a place of love. he’ll never push you to do anything or tell him anything you don’t want to, and he’ll try not to infer anything even if he knows he could use context clues to find out exactly what’s upsetting you. he knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready if you want to, and it’s never his job to be in your business. his only responsibility is to love you and make sure you know it <3
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oda.
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you’ve never been great at facing your own problems, and you’re even worse at facing others in your time of struggle. it feels impossible to rely upon anyone, no matter how close they are to you.
sakunosuke oda is a selfless man, always taking care of others, putting their wellbeing above his own. he took in five orphans despite knowing the increased risk to his own safety that would come with taking care of them, and he still chose to do it despite not having a place of his own to take care of them at. he gives half of his wage as one of the lowest-ranking members of the port mafia to the kids every time he receives his salary and he’s never once deviated from the habit.
you know he’d drop everything for you if you told him what was wrong, but you couldn’t do that to him. it didn’t feel that serious. and worst of all, telling him how you were feeling would only cause him to cut his job short and then he’d be standing there with you while you continued to wallow in misery; of course his presence would help you feel better, but it wouldn’t immediately solve everything.
it wasn’t worth it. was your justification as you slipped out of your shared apartment. it wasn’t worth telling someone else how you were feeling, because they couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t even figure out for yourself what was wrong. you had to make your existence worth it instead, then. the best way you found, to distract yourself from your feelings and make sure they remained pushed down, was by helping others. no one whose in need of help often asks how others are truly doing, and you like that about them.
you don’t tell him where you’re going. you have nothing to hide; you just don’t want to worry him. you’ll tell him if he asks, but for now, you’re on your own.
but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t know you? if he hadn’t memorized and kissed every mole, freckle, and blemish adorning your body? he knew you better than you realized, although you could never fully accept the fact that he paid attention to you, remembered your likes and dislikes, and knew your habits and routines like the back of his hand, all just because he loves you.
and when he comes home from work to an empty house, searching for any traces of you, he’s not worried. he has an idea of where you are and he knows that all he needs to do is text you, if he's curious. and he doesn’t immediately push his assumptions onto you about why you might be out and where; he knows you can take care of yourself and that you’ll communicate your needs to him. so when he texts you, it's not that he's demanding that you come home or ot tell him your whereabouts. rather, his texts are just to let you know he cares and is waiting for you at home.
sakunosuke ♡ : i’m home, just wanted to let you know
sakunosuke ♡ : text me if you need anything. and be safe
if he sees that you haven’t at least read his message within an hour or if he just can't wait to see you when you get home, whenever that may be, he already knows where to find you nine times out of 10. he’ll text the owner of his favorite curry shop, asking him if he’s seen you while already on his way down to the restaurant.
it's usually where he can find you there when you’re feeling down; braiding sakura’s hair, folding their laundry, coloring with one of the boys, helping out downstairs in the kitchen, or wherever else you can find a place to keep yourself busy. he knows that you’re always like this when you’re upset, and if you won’t take the day off to take care of yourself, then he will do it for you happily and well. he won’t even try to pull you away from what you’re doing–he’ll simply sit down with you, grabbing his own colored pencil while making small talk with the kids, giving you a small smile when you realize he's come into the room. or suddenly he’s next to you, helping you carry and hang up laundry, or drying off the dishes you’re washing.
and then before you know it, you’re walking home with him, hand in hand, a plastic bag rustling in his free one. you’ve both stopped to get food on the way home, and once you make it there, he’s immediately sitting you down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “let me do everything, love.” he’ll help you out of your clothes into something more comfortable, holding your hair back while you wash your face and clean up, he’ll pull your chair out for you as you sit back down, and run a hand through your hair, keeping any stray strands out of your face as you eat. 
outside of the house, you can bury your feelings as much as you want to and work to please others, but at home with him, you’re the focus. you’re the one who’s honored and worshipped in the house. sakunosuke’s not letting you lift a finger if he can help it, and you can’t get away with continuing to ignore your feelings when his only desire is to help you.
and you’ll tell him what’s bothering you when you’re ready. he knows that after how long you both have been together. and so in the meantime, he’ll wait patiently, showering you with all the love in the world. ♡
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bvidzsoo · 2 days ago
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Every time I see you...chapter 2 ↰
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...my throbbing heart rate spikes up
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
☆ Warning: smut ☆ Word count: 7k ☆ Rating: mature ☆ Genre: slice of life, established situationship, post university setting, smut ☆ Summary: A surprise visit which was supposed to convey you and Mingi cooking dinner, soon turns into something else as you find yourself in his bed, underneath him. You've done this before, so it's not supposed to bring unwanted emotions with itself, especially not the next day when you're simply enjoying your morning while walking to work with Mingi.
☆ Visuals ☆
M.list ~ Previous Chapter
A/N: Sorry for the later update, I had a busy day, but I hope you have fun reading this chapter. If you've been following me for long enough, you might know that I don't like writing smut, however, when the plot calls for it, I will slip it in to my best capacities. The smut in this story isn't written for 'entertainment' purposes, but to show how deep their understanding of each other and intimacy goes, so keep that in mind if it isn't as mind blowing as a smut writer usually makes it be lmao. On that note, I hope you've checked out the Pinterest board I've created for the series, and if not, you should! It showcases the aesthetic of the story and even parts of the plot that will be happening soon enough. I'd also like to inform you that there won't be an update next week because I'll actually be in Denmark at this time to see Ateez (I'm still in disbelief I'll see them in a week lmao). I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and I appreciate your feedback, so let me know what you think. If anyone wants to be tagged in this story, lmk! ^^ Enjoy now! divider
Taglist: @spicxbnny @hongjoongspoetry
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🎧 Ⴘ𝜎𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝜎𝑤 𝘭 𝑤𝛼𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝜎𝑢, 𝘭 𝑤𝛼𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝛼ℎ / 𝘖ℎ 𝑛𝜎, 𝑦𝜎𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝜎𝜎 𝑐ℓ𝜎𝑠𝑒, 𝑃ℓ𝛼𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝒹𝛼𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝜎𝑢𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝓂𝑒 / 𝑈ℎ, 𝑐𝜎𝓂𝓂𝑖𝑡𝓂𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝘭 𝒹𝜎𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝛼𝘷𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝓂𝑒 / 𝛵𝑒ℓℓ 𝓂𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝘭 𝑔𝜎𝑡 𝑦𝜎𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝜎𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒ℓ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 🎧
            The metal cart wasn’t even half as heavy now that I was shopping on my own, a lack of Mingi meant fewer expenses and less chocolate filling up the basked. I smiled to myself as I recalled one of the many instances of Mingi sneaking milk chocolate into the cart, acting as if I wouldn’t notice it at the self-checkout. He’d always bat his eyelashes at me and casually—at least he thought it looked like—put his hands in his pockets while slightly shuffling on his feet. Right, he thought playing nonchalant wouldn’t make it so obvious, but having known Mingi for a few years now, I could already tell when he was up to no good. And he was never up to any good in a store filled with candy. With a small shake of my head, I found myself heading down the candy aisle, looking for the sour gummies that disappeared within seconds around Mingi. His pantry was already filled with sweets and snacks, so I was sure his collection wasn’t lacking any sour gummies, but since I was already surprising him by stopping by, why not also gift him something sweet? There were only the essentials in my shopping cart: basil, parmesan, penne, and a small pack of cashews. The rest that was needed would be at Mingi’s place, thankfully he was a man who loved to cook, so his kitchen was better equipped than even mine at times.
I grabbed some marshmallows on the way to the self-checkout, wondering if I could convince Mingi to make me his famous hot chocolate as a little treat for surprising him with dinner tonight. Of course, the dinner wouldn’t come all served to his flat but get prepared there, not that Mingi had an issue with that. Early on in our friendship, we had learned that we both liked the quiet moments that we could share. Watching a movie after a long day while cosied up next to each other felt serene, reading in his bed on a rainy day brought contentment and comfort, and cooking in either his or my kitchen then brought a sense of belonging and joy that I haven’t found with anyone else. I had friends, quite plenty of them while at university, yet no one managed to bring out the calmness in me that came now naturally around Mingi. He was a one-of-a-kind person, and I could see it and feel it without anyone pointing it out to me. I nodded at the security guard as farewell once I was done checking out, the items for our dinner placed in my tote bag as I left the store. The evening was pleasant, not too cold nor warm, but wearing the thin cardigan before leaving the house was rather smart of me. I relinquished in the world that surrounded me as I walked towards Mingi’s apartment complex, head turning towards the playground as the kids screamed while chasing each other around.
There was something bittersweet in their naivety, and before it could sour my mood, I averted my gaze and focused on the headlights of the cars lighting up the streets, stronger than the old lampposts placed on the edge of the sidewalks. I liked living in a city that was big enough to allow one to feel invisible, it was easier to blend in rather than seek attention. I enjoyed meeting a stranger's gaze for a split second before we’d both never cross each other’s minds ever again, the other's face nothing but a blur on a crowded road. The green light blinked in warning as I reached the crosswalk, and I paused as it switched back to red, the previously stagnant cars now wheezing by the pedestrians. Standing too close to the edge never felt comfortable, so I left a few steps between myself and the edge of the sidewalk, watching as rowdy teenagers squeezed in front of me to be the first ones to cross. They were in a hurry based on their conversation, their movie would start in fifteen minutes and they were nowhere near close to the cinema. I smiled as I looked down at my shoes, the presence of other people surrounding me was something that I liked focusing on. I like the anonym life, but something was comforting in the thought that no matter how alone you might feel, there were always others around you, each person focused on their own issues and life…but they were there. You weren’t alone, even if you thought you had no one by your side. That’s another lesson I learned through my friendship with Mingi. Even in my darkest moments when I felt like the world was against me, Mingi would appear like the sun through a cloudy day and bring light into my life, proving to me that I was never really alone.
When I thought nobody would look out or care for me, Mingi managed to make himself seen like nobody else. Small gestures had always mattered to me, and Mingi was the type of person who noticed everything. He loved coming to your aid, helping you out if you were struggling, or even just being a silent supportive presence by your side. He fixed the wonky doorknob of my bedroom without me asking for it, sometimes I forgot to water my plants and I’d come home to Mingi showering them, or there were times when my wrists ached too much from having used them all day long so Mingi would wash the dishes wordlessly, and then there were the even smaller things like: opening doors for me, brushing my hair out of my face while we were eating, playing with my fingers if he noticed I was anxious, letting me borrow his jackets if I felt cold, allowing me to have the first bite of our dessert if we decided to share it, and so many more gestures that made him unforgettable. He was a genuine man, eager to give his affection to those eager to receive it. I didn’t deal well with emotions, letting them simmer until they bottled up and forced me to notice them. Mingi wasn’t like that, he was open about them and unafraid to voice his needs and complaints. Sometimes I admired him for his braveness, wishing to do better myself because I knew he deserved to have someone as genuine as him by his side.
The middle-aged married couple living across Mingi’s flat already knew me, their smiles were wide as they spotted me entering the building while they were leaving. I greeted them and answered when they asked about my day, wishing them a lovely date as they were headed out for the evening. Mingi lived on the third floor so I avoided taking the elevator, feeling stuffy and uncertain inside. I didn’t like the noises it made, nor the way it rattled before taking off. The building was old and the elevator was in of much-needed maintenance. The hallways were silent apart from the crying baby from the first floor, which could be heard even on Mingi’s floor. I suppose I would like to have kids at some point in the future, but I have never thought too deeply about it. It was a choice I would like to take with my future partner; besides, I enjoyed the quiet and slow life too much right now to feel ready to have a baby—let alone a serious relationship—right now. I knocked on Mingi’s front door, waiting patiently for him to come to the door. I knew he was home; he had texted me before he went to take a nap, his mind exhausted after the three courses he had during the day.
Another beat of silence passed before I heard the locks turning, the front door swinging open to reveal a shirtless Mingi. His dark hair was slightly damp and his cheeks were lightly flushed, the expanse of his chest able to catch anyone’s attention. His shoulders were wide and firm, his skin even tanner than usual since he had gone to the beach this summer. His biceps weren’t huge nor too eye-catching, but they flexed nicely with the slightest movement, never failing to grab my attention if he wore compressed tank tops or tees. His stomach wasn’t too ripped either nor too soft—more like somewhere in between—a trail of dark hair peeking through his sweatpants as my eyes trailed down. I’ve seen Mingi shirtless before—hell, I have seen him naked so many times that I couldn’t even count them on my hands anymore—but I never shied away from admiring his physique if he willingly put it on display. Surprise painted Mingi’s face when I finally looked back up, a small smile pulling at my lips.
“Look at you,” I chuckled, stepping through the threshold as Mingi slowly closed the door behind us, “You certainly know how to welcome your guests.”
Mingi snorted, rubbing the back of his head as I placed my tote bag on the ground before discarding my sneakers by the entrance.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone, to be honest,” He grabbed the tote bag off the floor for me, curiously peeking inside, “Did you bring food? Because I’m not complaining, then.”
I chuckled and grabbed his arm, stepping closer to lean into him. Mingi’s lips involuntarily pulled into a soft smile, eyes slowly blinking as he looked down at me, humming lowly. I didn’t have anything to say, I just liked to bask in the warmth of his body and the bodywash that I now associated with Mingi and only Mingi.
“I brought the ingredients,” I answered, leaning closer to press a chaste kiss against his collarbone, “The chefs are needed in the kitchen tonight.”
I took my bag from Mingi as he pressed a kiss against the side of my head before he started walking towards his bedroom, “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.”
I chuckled, then stepped into my slippers before scuffling over to the kitchen, swinging the bag in my hands as I walked to the aisle dividing Mingi’s chic kitchen from his living room. I placed the items I bought on the counter and allowed the tote bag to rest by the foot of the aisle, turning around to grab the pots out of the cupboard. I heard Mingi’s heavy footsteps approach as he grabbed his apron, tying it around his narrow waist. He stopped next to me and took the pot from my hands to fill it with water for the penne as I walked to the stove and turned it on. There was music faintly coming from Mingi’s bedroom, the door left wide open, and I wondered if it was the vinyl we had thrifted together. Mingi lived right by a busy street so the on-coming traffic usually filled his apartment, only quiet after midnight until the early morning hours. I walked to the window and opened it, pulling the curtain to the side so that the scent of the food wouldn’t fill the whole apartment.
“Oh, are we making Pesto tonight?” Mingi mused as he looked at the ingredients, going to retrieve the olive oil before he grabbed a bowl to mix the cheese in. He liked measuring everything beforehand and putting them in separate bowls so that it was clear how much he’d need to use, placing them in order of use as well. I walked back to his side and grabbed the grater, getting to work as I bit off a bit of the cheese before grating it. Mingi grabbed the small hand mixer to grind the cashew, his hip jutting out as he stood next to me, pressing into mine as I smiled, glancing at him from my peripheral. The mixer wasn’t too loud, so I didn’t wait for him to finish before I answered.
“Figured we could cook something quick and then read before bed?” I proposed lightly, turning my head as Mingi now grabbed the cheese I had grated, mixing it with the cashew and the spoonful of olive oil.
“Sure, that sounds nice.” His voice was deep as he hummed, grinding the rest of the ingredients together as I realised the basil needed some washing before we could use it. I opened the small casserole and walked to the sink, turning on the cold water as Mingi continued, “My professor and I settled on ethnology at last, but I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to focus on specifically. He gave me a book to look through and said it might help me find a solid direction.”
I smiled as I turned the faucet off, shaking the water off the basil, “That’s great, I’m glad he wants to help you out unlike that asshole you wrote your bachelor’s degree with.”
Mingi chuckled as I came to stand next to him again, placing the basil in the bowl so that he could grind the sauce together, “Yeah, he made me work my ass off, but it paid off in the end.”
“I know,” I smiled and leaned up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Your score was the highest out of everyone graduating that year. That was rather hot of you.”
“Yeah?” Mingi smirked, leaning his hip against the counter now that the sauce was done, the pasta was next, but the water was yet to start boiling.
“What can I say,” I shrugged, facing Mingi with an amused look on my face, “I like my men pretty and smart.”
He pointed at his face, widening his eyes so that he’d look even cuter, “Hilarious, that’s me. No wonder you’re into me.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Don’t let that huge ego of yours get to you now, I don’t like my men cocky.”
“No?” Mingi pouted, pushing off the counter to step closer, “Not even a little bit?”
I shook my head and he sighed heavily as if it was the end of the world, “Fine, I’ll stay humble and graduate three more colleges to make sure my academic hotness never dies.”
I laughed, shaking my head at Mingi’s absurd words, well aware that he could graduate that many more colleges if he wished to. Mingi was too smart for his own good, it was admirable. I was glad to somehow graduate from the one college I chose out of impulse, being lucky to find a job that not only had something to do with my degree but was also enjoyable.
“As long as you keep wearing your glasses, your academic hotness will never die.” Mingi raised his eyebrows as he stepped even closer, lazily pulling me into himself as his arms circled my waist.
“Really? That’s all I have to do?” He hummed before his eyebrows furrowed, “We’re back to the glasses talk and—wait, mom? Is that you?! I thought you wouldn’t call me today—”
I punched Mingi’s chest, throwing him a displeased look as he laughed, leaning down to kiss my lips but I turned my head to the side, feigning hurt. He huffed slowly, shaking his head in disappointment, “And my friends say I’m the drama queen.”
“You are quite dramatic, though,” I muttered as Mingi snickered, kissing my cheek before I could turn my head to face him again. He smiled softly as he raised his hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of my eyes, his fingers gently tracing my cheek before they curled around my jaw.
“I was raised like a princess, of course, I’m dramatic,” Mingi giggled, making me snort as I glanced towards the water. It was starting to boil, but it wasn’t quite there yet, “How was your day? Do your wrists hurt? Want a massage?”
“Today was thankfully quiet, I don’t think I would’ve survived a day like yesterday.” Client after client kept pouring in, and my boss and I didn’t get to have a lunch break at all as we were overloaded with commissions but also in-store orders, “I still have to mend a ring, but it’s not important. I thought I might do it tonight, but honestly, I’m not in the mood anymore.”
“Good,” Mingi hummed and leaned closer, making me raise my eyebrows at him, “because I’ve missed you, and I want to have you all to myself tonight.”
I laughed, trying to turn my head away once again when Mingi leaned in for a kiss, but his grip on my jaw tightened and held me in place. My eyes fluttered closed as Mingi’s lips met mine, warm and plump, soft yet more eager than before. His other hand slowly sneaked to my lower back and pulled me into his body, my arms going around his neck as I tilted my head for better access. Our lips moved languidly as Mingi slowly swayed us to the soft jazz music playing in the background, and I flinched when a car’s horn blared outside. We could both hear the water boiling now, but there was an insistence to Mingi’s wet lips that immobilised me as I breathed through my nose, head swirling with his familiar cologne. My fingers crumbled the collar of Mingi’s white tee as he bit my bottom lip, gently suckling on it before his tongue swiped over my bottom lip, asking for permission. I cupped his cheek and slightly pulled back, our breaths fanning each other’s faces as I gulped, not moving even an inch back.
“The pasta won’t be done if we continue.”
“I know, let’s hope the water doesn’t evaporate by the time we’re done.”
My chuckle was swallowed by Mingi’s lips finding mine again, a little more insistent, a little more desperate as I finally parted my lips, letting Mingi’s tongue past my teeth as he grabbed my waist and suddenly hoisted me up, my legs anchoring around his waist as Mingi held me in his arms, his tongue exploring my mouth as if it was our first time kissing. I loved kissing Mingi, it felt like he was always pouring something unspoken into it, something deep and meaningful. He didn’t have to bear his heart for me to understand, sometimes I could see it in his eyes, and other times I could feel it in the way he touched me. Even in our intimate moments, I felt like he had my back. He was as much in tune with his body as he was with mine, picking up on cues that indicated how comfortable or uncomfortable I felt by anything he did to me. My breath hitched in the back of my throat as our tongues glided against each other, slow and hot and making my heart race as Mingi hummed appreciatively in the back of his throat. I could feel his lips pull into a small smile, and I felt the sudden urge to cling to him harder, to squeeze his waist and sink my fingers into his smooth hair. There was something dormant in my chest that threatened to awaken in moments like this one, but I stopped it before it could ignite the whispers that would ruin everything.
I liked having Mingi like this, our friendship perhaps more than that, without the need to label it. It wasn’t necessary when we both knew we could reach out to the other, lay our heads in the other’s lap and just surrender. There was no trust without vulnerability, and sometimes I felt guilty for not being as transparent as Mingi was with me, but my heart would clench uncomfortably at the thought and I’d have the sudden urge to cry. Our lips moved more insistently as Mingi started walking, leaving the kitchen with slow steps, being careful so his feet wouldn’t get tangled in anything that would make him drop me. The jazz music became louder as we neared Mingi’s bedroom, and my lungs felt on fire as I cupped Mingi’s cheeks, mouth pressing against his with yearning. He pulled back gently when we reached the foot of his bed, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead before he kneeled on the mattress and slowly lowered me on it, untying his apron before getting settled between my legs. My lips were slightly swollen as I reached a hand out to trace Mingi’s lips, having always found them pretty. Mingi’s eyes closed as I gently traced his jawline and then sharp cheekbones, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him down into another searing kiss.
It didn’t last for long as Mingi gently pulled back, caressing my hair as he peppered kisses all over my face, but then his warm and wet lips found my neck as he gently nipped at my heated skin, muttering intangible words into it as I played with his hair, my heart racing in my chest. His kisses continued, going lower, bunching up my t-shirt as he mouthed at my stomach, licking it where he knew I was ticklish until I was pushing his head away with a small glare, making him smirk amused. But his lips were back on my body as he unbuttoned my jeans, pressing gentle kisses against my hipbones before he dwelled lower, hot breath hitting my clothed core. I gulped, face heating up as he closed his eyes and nosed at the damp fabric for a second, kissing the inside of my thigh before my panties were off my legs together with my jeans, Mingi’s head lost between my legs. My mouth opened and my eyes closed as I fisted the comforter, one hand tangling in Mingi’s hair as his tongue licked between my folds, nose hitting my clit. The breath hitched in my throat and my mouth fell open as he moved slowly with purpose, already familiar with every tick of my body.
Being with Mingi was always so easy, there was no need to fill the silence for it was never awkward or empty. He seemed to have an ability to read your mind and thus knew how to cater to your likes, he just knew how to please you instinctually. It was peculiar, he was unlike anyone I have ever known, he made life seem easier, coating it in childish joy. I gasped when he prodded at my clit, my hole clenching around nothing until one ring-clad finger suddenly filled it, making my fingers grip his hair tightly. Mingi hummed, I could feel his eyes on my face as I tried to stiffen a moan, mindful of his neighbours, but the suddenly fast pace of his finger and the agonisingly slow flick of his tongue made my stomach clench as my eyes flew open, finding Mingi’s as I moaned loudly. I should’ve expected the smirk crossing his face as he continued doing that, his name falling off my lips in a rush, fingers pulling painfully at his roots.
“Stop it,” I whispered, eyes shaking as Mingi added a second finger, my hips wishing to kick off the mattress but Mingi held me down by my hips before I could do so, “More, please.”
Mingi hummed again, his two fingers plunging deeper and curling as my mouth fell open in a breathy moan, toes curling as he leaned forward to kiss my navel, lips hovering over the tattoo on my right hipbone, nipping at the skin before he slowly kissed up my body, fingers never once stopping, but alleviating in pace. I was panting by the time our lips found each other again and Mingi’s breath stuttered when I grabbed him through his sweatpants, his dick heavy and hard as I squeezed it, making Mingi groan as he ground down into my hand. Before I could reach inside his sweatpants, however, he pulled away just as I could feel the tension slowly build up in my lower stomach, my eyes wide as I watched him stand. I quickly pulled my t-shirt over my head as Mingi got rid of his clothes too, standing by the end of the bed in his naked glory. He was a gorgeous man, making you wish you could gaze at him forever and more. He grabbed a condom out of the nightstand before coming back to kneel between my legs, a small smile on his lips as he rolled it on, kissing between my breasts as he aligned himself, looking down between our bodies. I knew what was coming, we’ve done this plenty of times before, yet the careful and slow way he eased himself inside never failed to push a moan out of me, my body feeling like it was made of glass with how gently Mingi handled it.
It was moments like this one that I could completely unravel, to let go of all the fears and doubts that plagued my mind, because in Mingi’s arms, I knew I could be vulnerable and he wouldn’t use it against me. My eyes fluttered close as Mingi caged me between his body and the mattress, his dick stretching me out much like always, I needed a second to adjust to it once he bottomed out. He smiled, grabbing my jaw to press a kiss against my lips as I hummed, arms going around his torso to hug him close to myself as my legs locked around his hips, making sure there was no gap between our bodies. I liked feeling him on top of me, his weight like a blanket of security, something that would lock me into the present and not let my mind wander to all the what-ifs. Mingi moved, slowly and teasingly almost as he pulled halfway out before easing back in, enjoying the way my face contorted in pleasure. I knew he couldn’t keep this pace up for long because his own needs would catch up with him, and as I raised my head to whisper his name in his ear, something finally snapped in him as he shuddered, hips picking up their movement as he pulled out almost all the way, pushing back in almost as if he was in a rush.
I moaned, head falling back as I tried to meet his thrusts halfway, his hot breath fanning over my mouth making me latch onto his jaw, sucking his skin as Mingi pushed himself up just a little bit, bracing himself above my head as he dragged his hips faster, his mouth open as he looked down at me, our eyes meeting. My whole body burned as the pressure was slowly building back up, his length reaching places only Mingi could, my mouth was dry as I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep it down. But one large hand grabbed my breast as Mingi’s fingers played with my nipple and my back arched into his touch, eyebrows furrowing as a new wave of pleasure rushed through my body.
“Go faster, please.” I breathed out as Mingi grunted, his hair falling into his sharp eyes as he started pistoning his hips, my mouth falling open as I clung to him, nails digging into his back. Mingi’s chest heaved as low grumbles tumbled past his lips, eyebrows furrowing as his grip turned just a bit painful on my breast, pain and pleasure have always been a fine line with Mingi.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Mingi muttered more to himself, his face contorting in pleasure as he grabbed my left knee and pushed my leg towards my chest, making me gasp as he reached deeper, brushing against my sweet spot. Mingi felt the way my body locked up for a second, eyes widening, and he wasted no second plunging in against the same spot again and again, his grunts now a melody of their own as they amalgamated with my keens and the jazz music. My hand gripped Mingi’s bicep, nails leaving dents in his gorgeous body for everyone to see, and I looked at Mingi to find him already gazing at me, “I’m so close.”
I gulped around nothing, my throat dry as I nodded wordlessly, reaching down to rub my clit as my ears started ringing, the chord so tight in my abdomen that it was close to snapping anytime, “Don’t stop, Mingi.”
Mingi moaned after a harder snap of his hips, the slapping of skin louder than the vinyl that was playing, my moans were almost a mantra as I pulled Mingi down to silence them, our kiss messy as my body locked up with finality. Mingi’s name was just a whisper on my lips as the tightness finally snapped, an electric-like feeling filling my body as my skin was covered in goosebumps. Mingi gasped before his hips stuttered, losing their steady rhythm as he slammed back in a few more times, coming to a standstill once his orgasm was over too. Our chests rose and fell rapidly as Mingi’s eyes closed, his head hanging low as I stared up at the ceiling, my fingertips gently rubbing the dents my nails had left in his bicep. He leaned down and I looked at him, leaning up to kiss him on the forehead before he could kiss my lips and he froze, his eyes fluttering open. I gave him a small smile as he chuckled, pulling out and then getting off me, my body still buzzing as I lay on top of Mingi’s bed, watching him tie the condom off before throwing it away. He then pulled the needle off the record player, silence filling the room.
“We should really cook that pasta now.” Mingi’s voice was lower, his expression serene and his eyes void of worries as I chuckled, pushing up onto my elbows.
“I don’t want to get up just yet.” I pouted, kicking my legs slightly as Mingi chuckled, leaning down to grab his white tee. He threw it in my face before he slipped on his sweatpants, and then headed for the door.
“Stay in bed then, I’ll be back in two minutes.” I hummed as I watched him go back to the kitchen to take care of the boiling water and pasta, then pulled his white tee on before I got off the bed to pull the comforter back. Just as I was about to get in, Mingi came in like a bulldozer, arms around my torso as he made us fall into the bed, giggling while I struggled to breathe as he now lay on top of me.
“Get off, you’re heavy!” I screeched as I tried to crawl out from underneath him, and Mingi obliged after he swiftly kissed my nape, snuggling in behind me as I pulled the comforter over our bodies.
“Five minutes and then we go have dinner.” Mingi mumbled into my skin as his hand landed on my naked thigh, lightly tracing my skin, “How about we skip reading tonight? I’m sleepy.”
I smiled, turning slightly to look back at him, “You can go to sleep, I want to read a bit.”
“Sure.” Mingi smiled and kissed my shoulder before he buried his head between my scapulas, letting out a long sigh as silence wrapped around us. For a split second, my control over my treacherous heart slipped and the whispers reached my ears, saying that I craved Mingi like I craved water or food, that I needed Mingi by my side like I needed oxygen to survive. I gulped, eyebrows slightly furrowing as I realised my heart was still racing, but it wasn’t in excitement, it was due to the deeply buried anxiety that told me Mingi’s affection wasn’t as pure as I liked to believe it was.
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            There was something dull about this morning, something that made life feel simpler than it was. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, the sky a light shade of grey as the air was chillier than the night before. It was increasingly obvious that the summer was over, and the ominous autumn days were now taking over the once sunny days. And despite that, the song of the birds carried above our heads like an echo, a beautiful and calming sound as our path took us through a lush green park, mostly empty at this hour except for the runners and the dog owners who followed after their pets. The fingers of my right hand were slightly chilly as they firmly held onto Mingi’s hand, our arms swinging between our bodies as we walked at a leisurely pace, not in a rush yet. The bus ride was swift since we went down to the bus stop just in time, so, we had some time to pass until the jewellery store opened. Despite the grey hoodie hugging around my body that Mingi had lent me, I shivered, and he cast a curious glance down at me. I looked up at him with a soft smile, raising one eyebrow as Mingi shrugged, putting our intertwined hands into the pocket of his bomber jacket.
“It’s chilly, isn’t it?” Mingi mused, his lips pursed as he looked straight ahead once again.
“Yes, and it’ll only get worse.” I sighed, already dreading the cold winter days that would come in just two months. Mingi hummed, bumping his shoulder against mine as he walked closer, almost as if he wished to share his never-ending body heat with me. He was like a furnace at times, a complete saviour during the cold, snowy, winter days when I could bury myself in his side and bask in his warmth. I felt my cheeks heat all of a sudden as I turned my head away, hoping that my hair would frame my face and hide it from Mingi’s knowing eyes. It made no sense that I’d become a blushing mess all of a sudden, Mingi has been doing these things forever. It was nothing new that we held hands while walking, nor the fact that I wore his clothes, or that he warmed our hands by putting them in his pocket. And yet, it felt different. A choking-like emotion tried to crawl up my throat as I sighed, trying to shake my thoughts away before they could sour my mood.
“I like the rusty-coloured leaves in the autumn, no matter how cold it is,” Mingi spoke up as we left the park, back on the busy main street. Life seemed more hectic here, people brushing past each other as the traffic lights flickered from green to red every other minute, only complicating the already raging traffic, “The café gets cosier too, everyone wants hot chocolate all of a sudden, or pumpkin-spiced latte. My boss also buys a lot of cinnamon and orange-scented candles around this time, so it’s always a fun time walking inside the shop, wondering whether the scent of coffee or the candles will hit me first.”
“Our store always smells of incense, blue sage mostly or white musk since these two seem to have cleansing properties…at least that’s what my boss believes.” I shrugged as Mingi smiled, bumping his shoulder into mine again and making me tumble slightly to the side. I scoffed and narrowed my eyes at him as I gently jabbed his side with my elbow, making him snort under his breath as we turned right, walking away from the busy and loud street.
“Your store always feels so fresh and welcoming, those incense sticks are certainly doing their jobs then.” I hummed in thought, never really having paid attention to that. But Mingi must be right since I’m already used to my boss's shenanigans and the store’s customs. The store was now in sight and I glanced down at my wristwatch, realising we were fifteen minutes early, but the lights were already on inside the store. My boss would sometimes come in earlier to finish the previous day’s commissions, “By the way, about our getaway.”
“What about it?” I asked as we stopped at the crosswalk, looking at both sides of the road before crossing it. A lone car cruised down the street, its engine silent as I watched it go by.
“I found a homey lodge by the edge of the forest not even two hours away, what do you think?” Mingi asked, fishing for his phone as my eyebrows furrowed.
“That sounds like the setting of a horrible but successful horror movie, don’t you think?” Mingi laughed and turned his phone for me to look at. Well, the lodge was small and downright gorgeous as Mingi swiped through the pictures, the two of us had stopped on the sidewalk to make sure we didn’t walk into anything or anyone. The wood panels were a light maroon, and the lodge seemed to have a well-equipped kitchen, a small living and dining area, a spacious but cosy bedroom, and a rather modern-looking bathroom. The price on the posting didn’t seem too bad, so I nodded my head in agreement, “Okay, I like this place.”
“Right? It’s so beautiful.” Mingi sighed dreamily, putting his phone away, “Looks so relaxing and just…quiet. I don’t know why I have this sudden urge to go away for a few days, but it’s getting worse and worse as days go by.”
I hummed, squeezing his hand encouragingly. I knew Mingi could get overwhelmed easily, often losing himself in his workload, letting stress bring him down until he caught the flu and would be bedridden for a week. I couldn’t let that happen again, so, going away for a mini-holiday seemed like a very smart choice for the two of us at the moment.
“Your master’s is getting to you, Mingi, and it’s okay. You’re stressed about finding a good subject, and you’re also taking on more shifts than necessary at the café.” Mingi pouted, hanging his head low as he adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, “Do you think we could go in two weeks? Or is it too sudden?”
“No, that actually sounds lovely,” Mingi quickly said as we came to a stop in front of the store. He faced me and grabbed my other hand as well, intertwining our fingers. His rings were colder than his hands as they dug into my skin, and I found myself thumbing at one of them. His rings were always pretty, much like Mingi, they fit with his character well. They were mostly silver and chunky, but not to the point it was distasteful.
“Good, then book the lodge for us.” Mingi’s smile was instant, stretching from one ear to another, his nose scrunching and his eyes becoming smaller as I found my heart racing uncontrollably once again. His crooked front teeth made him even more endearing and I gulped, wanting to reach out and trace his lips gently with my fingertips. I felt like I could stare at his face—at his smile—forever as Mingi’s body basically vibrated with joy, excited to get away for a few days. I chuckled and ignored my growing anxiety, opting to squeeze his hands as I raised his left hand to press a quick kiss against his knuckles. Mingi’s smile softened, his eyes glinting in the morning light, and I felt unable to look at him any longer as we let go of each other’s hands.
“Have an easy shift, I’ll text you later.”
“Thank you, rest your eyes in between reading.”
Mingi winked, turning on his heels and walking back down the way we had come, headed back to his flat. I let my eyes follow his retreating form, chuckling when he abruptly spun around to wave at me with a smug smile. I shook my head and walked inside the store, glad that I was out of the morning’s coldness. It had felt rejuvenating, but now that my teeth chattered, I was even more glad to be inside a warm place, with heavy incense burning away in the corner to freshen up the air. I walked to the backdoor and knocked on it before entering, finding my boss buried deep in her work, twisting intricate models into the necklace she was crocheting.
“Good morning,” I greeted her as I placed my tote bag on the floor and pulled the sleeves of the hoodie lower to hide my arms, trying to bury myself fully underneath it. My boss glanced up with a small smile before she looked back down at her craft, eyebrows furrowing as she concentrated on her task.
“Good morning, did you sleep well?” I blushed so suddenly that I was stunned for a second, needing to gulp a few times as I chuckled, averting my eyes when my boss looked at me questioningly.
“Yes, of course, and you?” She gave me a knowing look before she shrugged, tying off a knot.
“The full moon’s getting closer so I struggle falling asleep, but I’m well rested thankfully.” I hummed, grabbing a hair tie to tie my hair back, then grabbed a stool to sit down next to her. There was another unfinished bracelet sitting to the side, perhaps I could help my boss out before we opened up the store, “I like your hoodie, I haven’t seen it on you before. Is it new?”
I bit my bottom lip as I shrugged, looking down at the fabric as I picked at the sleeves of it, suddenly very aware of the fact that not only the hoodie smelled like Mingi, but the rest of my clothes and hair as well. I hoped my boss couldn’t smell it as I sniffed at the collar of the hoodie, trying to stop myself from blushing when I realised everyone could tell I was wearing a man’s clothing. It didn’t feel too appalling to smell like Mingi, to wear his clothes and have others see it, the realisation wasn’t nearly as disheartening as I would’ve first assumed. Not that it felt empowering wearing a man’s hoodie, nor did I do it because I wanted the world to know that I had someone…because I didn’t. I was content on my own, sharing my space and time with a man who had the same life values as me, and respected me as much as I respected him. I hummed to myself, grabbing the emerald-coloured bracelet as I concluded that wearing Mingi’s clothes felt right, and not because I wanted the world to know I wasn’t alone, but because I knew it belonged to a person like Mingi.
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 8 hours ago
Text
The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 10
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Source for pic
Trouble 10
Word Count: 4546
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.
Notes: I feel like this story just keeps going from bad to worse! But bear with me, please! I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. Chapter 11 will be NSFW and will end with a cliffhanger, just a heads up!
Masterlist
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Just in case people missed this, I can't stop raving about @laidenbreecatchall art for Zoro! Just look at him! *sigh* Okay, back to the story:
This can't be happening. It can't. It's all a bad dream, and you're bound to wake up soon, drenched in sweat and tears. It has to be a nightmare. 
Because the alternative is too terrifying. 
“Tremble for me, Kitten.” He purrs against your ear, his breath sickeningly hot, as the fingers he has wrapped around your neck squeeze with a gentleness you wouldn't associate with a psychopath. “I get so turned on by seeing you scared.”
Gross. Sick. Disturbing. 
Why does nobody come to your aid? The club is packed, doesn't anybody sense your distress? You try to move your head around in the vain hope of making eye contact with someone - anyone - but he just squeezes tighter. His chuckle is low, and somehow, you still hear it perfectly, even with the loud music thumping away in an infernal rhythm. 
“Nobody is coming to help you, Princess. To everybody else, we look like a couple.” The hand that's gripping your wrist, holding it tight against your waist, pushes further, and you feel him pressed against your back. “To everybody else, you look like you're mine.” 
He moves his lips, placing wet kisses along your neck as you sob softly. There's barely enough strength in you for more than that. You're terrified. Fight or flight instinct? How about frozen in fear? And what does he plan to do to you? Kidnap you? Abuse you? Kill you? 
You try to turn your head to the side to get a glimpse of who he is because you can't shake the feeling that you've heard this voice before. You know this man. But the movement only makes him squeeze your neck tighter, and the only thing you glimpse is a black beanie. 
“Not yet, Princess. You're not ready to see me yet.” He tuts softly and inhales your hair with a lewd groan. “Now… you know why I'm here, right? You misbehaved. You let the cop stay the night; you let the cop touch you; you let the cop kiss you.” He growls as he delivers the sentences, and his hand grips your wrist tighter. You're starting to lose feeling in the tips of your fingers as he seems to be cutting off your circulation. “I don't want to do this, Kitten, but I need to punish you. You need to learn.”
He sounds upset. Almost as if he's actually sorry he has to do this to you. 
“But first…” He removes his hand from your neck, but it's as though a phantom limb is still pressed against your throat. The power and terror he exerts over you are unthinkable and terrifying. Then, you feel a weight in your pocket, and he sighs against your ear. “Here's your phone back, Princess. I got it from our kitchen drawer.” Our? “You can't shut me out. You won't change your phone again. Got it?”
You stay still, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Your heart is thumping in such an insane rhythm that you wonder how you're not having a heart attack right now. 
“Do you understand?” His free hand climbs your nape and grips your hair. When he pulls, you gasp and nod stiffly. “Good girl.” Another purr makes your ear vibrate, and you tremble from the heat of his breath against your skin. 
His feverish touch travels from your nape to your neck, then to your clavicle, his nimble fingers gathering the fabric of your clothes as he exposes the flesh of your shoulder. Another involuntary shudder makes you tremble as you plead silently for one of your friends to come find you. 
“You will do as I say and stop indulging the cop. Sever the connection, Kitten, or I will. And you won't like it.” His lips hover over your shoulder, and the hand on your wrist keeps squeezing. The bite of the bracelet is harsh and unforgiving, making your blood run cold. 
“It would be the simplest thing. He gets called to an emergency and simply gets shot…” The stalker's chuckle sounds unhinged. “Boo-hoo. Another cop killed in the line of duty. No one would blink an eye.” Your lower lip trembles, and your heart constricts. He’s capable of hurting Zoro. And if Zoro dies, it's your fault. “But you'd know why he died. Do you want that, Kitten?”
“D–don't hurt him.” You whisper, and it's unlikely he heard you over all the loud noise of the club. Even so, for you, it seems as if the music is coming from a faraway place. 
“That is entirely up to you.” He sighs, and you close your eyes. “Your punishment, Princess.” Then, his massive gloved hand covers your mouth as he sinks his teeth deep into your shoulder. You feel a sharp sting of pain traveling down your arm and back. Tears sting your eyes and your sobs drown in a muffled whine against his hand. The pain is blinding and hot, and you're pretty sure he's drawing blood. 
A stark realisation hits you just as he removes his teeth from your flesh, his tongue collecting droplets of blood as he eases the sting. 
He's marking you. 
“Mine.” He growls, and a tear rolls down your cheek. 
You feel helpless, violated, and terrified. 
“You won't disobey me anymore, Kitten. You won't misbehave anymore, and more importantly, you'll get rid of the cop.” His hand leaves your mouth as he fixes your clothes to cover up the bite mark. “Or I will. Don't forget it.”
His other hand releases your wrist, and you let out a ragged breath as your fingers twitch from lack of circulation. 
He's still pressing against you. 
“You're almost ready. We'll be so happy together, Kitten.” Your head slumps forward when he presses his lips against the back of it in a mockery of affection. “Don't disappoint me anymore.”
Then, just as swiftly as he approached you, he leaves. You turn quickly on the spot, trying to get a glimpse of your tormentor, but you only seem to catch a sliver of white. 
Was it hair? Clothes? The reflection of the lights? 
Or just your tears playing tricks on your mind? 
With trembling fingers and uneven breaths, you dislodge the bracelet that seemed to mould into your skin. The redness is daunting - it will bruise. Another whimper makes your lower lip tremble as you try to keep your wits about you. 
You need to calm down. You need to act like nothing happened. 
Zoro will be here any second now, and the stalker's threats were very clear. He'll hurt Zoro. He'll get rid of him if you don't push him away - whatever that might mean, so your plan to tell Zoro everything just went out the window. 
You need to keep him safe. At all costs. 
“Miss, your drinks are ready.”
A gasp leaves your lips, and you nod at the bartender. You’re still massaging your wrist, trying to alleviate some of the redness, but it's not disappearing. It's just getting worse. 
The way your heart is beating out of sync is a testament to how scared you still are. You need to compose yourself. New plan: take the drinks to the table and immediately excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Then maybe you can leave, claiming to be sick. You can't disguise the bruising on your wrist, though. Thank heavens the bite on your shoulder is hidden. 
With a steadying nod, you pick up the tray of beverages and make your way to the booth. 
Leave the drinks. Bathroom. Excuse. Home.
It's simple. You can do it. And then you can work out a plan. Maybe you can make an anonymous tip to the police about your stalker. Would that work? Or beg Ichiji again for protection? Even if you have to grovel? Maybe ask your father where he stores his rifle and take matters into your own hands?
You try to ignore the fact that just the stalker’s presence left you frozen in fear. It's highly unlikely you can fight for yourself. Who are you trying to kid? 
Leave the drinks. Bathroom. Excuse. Home.
You repeat the words like a mantra, but as soon as you set the tray on the table, you feel a touch on your waist, making you immediately flinch and hide your arm behind your back. 
“Hey, Troublemaker.”
“Zoro!” The moment your eyes fall on his, all your resolve crumbles. He can help you, you know he can. 
“Get rid of the cop… Or I will.”
“He gets called to an emergency and simply gets shot.”
No. You can't tell him anything. 
Not yet, at least. Not before you have a foolproof plan to protect him. Can his captain help? Surely he can. You just need time to think this through. You need to shake away the fear and think with a cool head. 
“Are you alright?” Zoro's eye scans your face. It's most likely still red. Your eyes still feel watery, and you're sure he's picking up on those signs. Zoro's hand still lingers on your waist, so you shuffle away from him and force a smile, your arm tucked behind your back. 
“Yes, Zoro. I'm fine. Did everything work out with the bomb threat?” You step away from him and distribute the drinks with just one hand, your jaw clenching with the fakest smile you've ever produced. 
“Not really, it was a freaking mess.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Most of the time, these things are fake. Someone wants attention and pulls one of these, thinking it's funny. This time, it was a real threat.”
A small gasp leaves your lips as you lock eyes with Zoro again. A real bomb? But… Does that mean it wasn't the stalker who planted it? Or does it mean it was him, and he's just showing you again how seriously he can play? 
How easily can he hurt Zoro?
“Another cop killed in the line of duty.”
“Shit.” You exclaim, and Zoro nods while reaching for a beer from the tray. After a sip, his expression softens, and he reaches for your waist again. 
“Come here. We can talk later - we need to talk later - but for now… just come here.” 
Your heart thumps louder than the music, and you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. He's still watching. 
“It would be the simplest thing…”
You take a step back to avoid Zoro's touch, your smile faltering as you try your hardest to keep a neutral expression. 
“Trouble?” Zoro reaches again, and it's like your chest is exploding as you avoid his touch once more. “You're running again.”
The faintest flicker of pain darkens Zoro's gaze, and you bite your lower lip just to keep it from trembling. 
“I'm not… I… I have to go to the bathroom.” And before he says something else, you rush towards the dimly lit corridor that leads to the bathrooms, but before you can take refuge inside, you hear Zoro call your name. 
He’s following you. 
You pretend that you don't hear him and press on, hastening your step. 
“Wait!” He calls you again, and you raise your hand to push the door open, unshed tears are already pricking the back of your eyes. Would it be simpler to just tell him everything and hope for the best? 
“You'd know why he died.”
You can't tell him. 
“Trouble, stop!” Zoro nearly growls, his hand wrapping around your injured wrist in an effort to stop you. Instant pain shoots up your arm as you let out a hiss and a grunt. Stopping and turning towards him with a pained expression on your face, you almost let out a sob. 
Zoro releases you instantly, his hands shooting up in a defeated position while his brows scrunch, searching your face for any clue as to why you reacted like this. 
“I barely touched you.” Then it happens fast, and you don't have time to react. 
Zoro's eye lowers as his gaze settles on your bruised wrist. You see it widen, his pupil dilating as realisation washes over him. 
“What the fuck?” The music seems farther away in the bathroom corridor, yet it still vibrates low, making your chest thump in the same rhythm as the electronic tempo, but the buzzing in your ears doesn't come from the loud noise. 
You've been caught. 
“Who the fuck did this to you?” Zoro takes a menacing step forward, and you can physically feel the way the air shifts. You have no time to react when he grabs your arm again - avoiding the bruised area - and inspects it, revulsion and fury contorting his expression. “Tell me, Trouble. Now.” Zoro's tone brooks no arguments. He sounds deadly serious. No. He just sounds deadly. 
“I–” You take a deep exhale and try to release your arm from Zoro's grasp, but it doesn't budge. His eye jumps from your face to your arm like he can't stand the sight of the bruise, but can't stand to look away either. “It's nothing, Zo!” You force a laugh, and it sounds fake and high-pitched. “I bumped into someone earlier and almost fell. The guy grabbed my wrist to keep me from falling, and the bracelet dug into my skin.” Another fake laugh. “You know how clumsy I am.”
That was believable. You think. 
Zoro's jaw clenches and unclenches, and he snaps his neck, rotating his head as he also takes a deep exhale, a gesture meant to calm himself down. 
“Lie to me one more time, Trouble…” 
“I'm not–”
“You are! That's not an accidental bruise! Stop trying to fucking gaslight me. What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck do I have to kill?”
Shit. Fuck. Shit. 
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 
“You're being dramatic, Zoro, it really is nothing, I–” 
“You stop showing up, you look like a ghost, you don't eat, you're scared, jumpy, you run from me and avoid my touch. Yet yesterday, you clung to me as if I was your lifeline.” Zoro takes another step forward, and now he's almost flush with you. 
Safety. He's safety. 
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 
“And now this? Let me in. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
You can't. 
“Zo…”
“There you guys are! Come on! We're going to sing happy birthday to Nami before Luffy raids the fridge and eats the cake by himself.” Usopp says, without really realising he’s intruded on a private conversation, but you couldn't be more thankful to him. 
You take the opportunity while Zoro's distracted to actually run away from him, confirming his earlier affirmation that you're running and not caring one bit. 
He can hate you all he wants. He can even be hurt with you. 
You just can't bear it if he actually ends up hurt. 
Or worse. 
Dead. 
-*-
The thumping music stopped just for Nami. The DJ got the birthday melody playing, and the whole club is celebrating your friend's birthday, even the ones that don't know her. 
You can't stop a small smile from spreading on your lips: everybody loves Nami. 
You somehow managed to lose Zoro amongst the hordes of people - he's big and bulky, so that gives him more trouble to manoeuvre around the crowd - and as soon as Nami blows out the candles, just after she and Vivi share a sweet kiss, you hug her and make up a quick excuse to leave the party early. 
Then you flee the club without another thought. Not even caring if you don't have a ride home or if you didn't say goodbye to your friends. 
You just need to get away from Zoro and his questioning. 
The slight night chill and the difference in temperature make you shiver, though another buzz from your phone assures you the tremble comes from something other than the cold. 
Yet, before you take two steps, his voice makes you stop. 
“Stop running from us.” It’s Zoro. “Stop running from me.” He sounds exasperated and conflicted. 
Your shoulders slump forward as you inhale deeply. He's relentless, and he will get to the bottom of this if he keeps pushing. And you can't allow that. 
Even if it will destroy you. 
“Tell me what's wrong, Trouble.” You turn to face him, and your knees wobble. Zoro's eye is full of anguish. He runs a hand through his hair and paces forward - everything in his posture is desperate. “I don't know what else to do to help you. I've tried being tough, I've tried giving you space, I'm trying to be understanding… Trouble… meet me in the middle. Please.”
You can't do this. You can't. He looks so broken, so helpless. And this could be easily remedied if you just told him what's going on. 
But you can't. Because you know the Stalker will kill Zoro. And you can't bear that. You'd rather be scared and trapped for the rest of your life than risk Zoro's. 
Zoro sees you struggling and takes full advantage of it, trying to sway you by cupping your face as he forces you to look at him. 
“Let me in.” He pleads with a whisper. 
Closing your eyes, you open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your voice was stolen. The lump in your throat grows, and so does the pain in your chest. 
There's no other way. 
“You got it all wrong, Zoro.” Your voice sounds foreign and affected. Still, you now focus your gaze on Zoro's scar. Not his eye, you can't bear that. “I'm not interested. I never was.”
Zoro's hands twitch slightly as his brow furrows, but you barely give him time to process your words before you deliver more pain. 
“You just can't take a hint, can you? I'm trying to get away from you, but you keep pushing. I don't care for you like that, Zoro.”
You have to close your eyes to keep away the moisture and to prevent acknowledging Zoro's pain.
“Gosh, stop being clingy and needy. Leave me alone. That's all. I'm fine, I just need you to give me space.”
Zoro's hands part with your face torturously slow. You don't look him in the eye anymore, clenching your fists to prevent them from shivering violently. 
But you stand your ground. 
You need to push Zoro away. He needs to be safe. Even if your heart is shattering. 
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
He stopped touching you, but he didn't back away. And as your eyes raise to meet his, you can see steely determination where before was only despair. 
“You heard me: Bull. Shit.”
Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 
Fuck. 
“I'm dead serious, Zoro. This was fun and all, but I'm done. Leave me alone.”
You turn on your heel, trapping a sob behind clenched teeth and fighting back tears. 
“Is this how you want to play? I can see what you're trying to do, Trouble, and it's bullshit.”
Bzzzz. 
You shouldn't read it. 
Yet you do. 
Unknown: Try harder, Kitten, or I'll make him go away permanently. 
“I’m not playing at anything. You don't matter.” The words leave your lips in the form of a whisper, but they linger in the air as if they were poisonous gas. Your insides twist and turn, and you feel nauseous. 
“Say that again, Trouble.” You barely hear him, not only because of all the ringing in your ears, but also because his hurt is drowning the words. 
Bzzzz.
No, no, no. You can't. 
Bzzzz. 
You have to. 
“I said–”
“Turn around and say it to my face.”
A sob claws its way up your throat, and you swallow it back down. You need to keep it together for now. 
With a slow turn, you face Zoro's disbelief, willing your heart to slow down, trying to keep your own emotions at bay before you collapse in tears. 
“You don't matter.” You repeat the words, and the way Zoro's face turns from disbelief to pain is immediate and heartbreaking. “I was just having fun, but I didn't expect you to become so obsessed with me.”
You aimed to hurt, and it worked. 
Zoro takes a step back as his eye faces the ground. The way his chest rises up and down with heavy gasps almost brings out the tears you're trying so hard to suppress. 
“Goodbye.”
You turn and hasten your step, wanting to get away from him as fast as you can. 
“Fine.” Your steps waver for a second when you hear Zoro’s voice, before you return to your uneven stride. “Fine! I'll back off. But I know you're lying to me.”
He doesn't say anything else, and you don't want to acknowledge the pain you heard in his voice. The pain you caused. Because your own pain is unbearable and immense. 
And now you've pushed away the one person who would help and protect you unconditionally. 
Bzzzz. 
Unknown: That's my good girl. The punishment worked. You're almost ready. 
-*-
Fuck, fuck, fuck! 
Zoro grits his teeth as his eye follows your shrinking form, watching it disappear into the dark horizon. Every freaking instinct tells him to follow you, but you've just pushed him away with everything you've got. 
‘You don't matter.’
“Fuck!”
“Hey! What's going on?” Usopp places his hand on Zoro's shoulder, and he sighs, running a desperate hand through his hair. 
“Nothing.” Then Zoro spots Kaya buttoning her jacket. “You leaving?”
“Yeah, I'm taking Kaya home, we have an early day tomorrow.” Usopp looks around and spots your disappearing form. “Where's she going?”
“What did you do?” Kaya interjects, hands already placed on her hips with a menacing scowl to back up her tiny, aggressive stance. Usopp’s brow raises at his girlfriend, and then he mimics her stance, his gaze also demanding answers Zoro doesn't really want to give. Zoro grits his teeth again, trapping a growl against them. He's so pissed, he can't even think straight. 
“I didn't do anything!” He answers, exasperated. “Fuck! Usopp, can you give her a ride home? She just fucking left.”
Usopp nods, and Kaya jogs a little, trying to catch up with you before you gain more distance from them. So Zoro starts walking towards the club again before you come back, wanting to avoid another confrontation. 
“Thanks.” He pats Usopp’s back and goes inside to say goodbye to his friends and grab his stuff. 
This shit’s not over. You may think you've pushed him away with your performance, but all you did was reel him in more. Zoro had his suspicions, but now he's sure. 
Someone is messing with you. And though his brain is telling him that someone is connected to Lucci and the store clerk, his heart is trying to push that possibility away. Because that fucker is dangerous, and Zoro's hoping against all hope that he didn't set his eyes on you. 
Or Zoro’s going to have to murder someone. 
Zoro's jaw keeps clenching as he drives towards the station. Even though he has the night off, he can't stay still. He's going to present his suspicions to Captain Mihawk and then forge a plan to protect you. Even if he has to drag your ass to the station and lock you in a cell. 
He'll fucking do it. 
Anything to keep you safe. 
You're not going to spend another fucking day terrified of something you won't even tell him about. 
‘You don't matter.”
Like shit, he doesn't. You can lie to him all you want. 
He'll never give up on you. 
-*-
It's barely after midnight when Usopp and Kaya drop you off at home. They have to get up early in the morning, so they couldn't party  late, and you told them you weren’t feeling very well. 
Neither of them pressed because they could clearly see the tears you were trying so hard to fight back. And you're sure they both know that you're crying because of Zoro, seeing as it was him who told them to give you a ride. 
They just don't know that you were the asshole who brought the pain to both of you. 
As Usopp’s car disappears down the driveway, you bolt the lock on the front door and place a chair against the doorknob, knowing deep down that it won't keep the stalker away, but still aiming for a sense of safety you know you won't achieve. 
You do the same to your room, discard your club clothes, and finally look in the mirror to see the mark he left there. Your eyes widen as your trembling fingers run over the bruise: you can clearly identify the teeth marks, there's still caked blood around the wound and it's already turning a dark bruise colour.
You choke back sobs as you disinfect the wound and dress in your pyjamas. Outside, the weather seems to match your mood as you start to hear the gentle pitter-patter of the soft rain against the window. 
You feel drained and exhausted. You were, once again, pushed into a corner. Never have you felt so trapped, helpless, and lonely. All the earlier fight, the will to try and find ways to get out of this predicament, left your body along with the hurtful words you delivered to Zoro.
‘You don’t matter.’
Gosh… he’s everything! But if it takes breaking you both apart just to save him, then you’ll do it over and over again.
Tomorrow is another day, and maybe after some serious consideration, you’ll know what to do.
As you curl up in your bed, trying to stay awake, but already knowing you'll succumb to exhaustion after having cried your heart out, you glance at your buzzing phone before closing your eyes. 
Unknown: Such a good Kitten. My beautiful Princess. My love. Sleep. I'll watch over you. 
-*-
You wake up with a jolt, feeling that something is amiss. You look around, your eyes darting to every shadow and every corner because your room feels wrong. Yet, you find everything in the same place. The shadows are still, and the room is quiet. 
Your heart thrums against your chest, and you take a deep breath to try and calm down. It must've been a nightmare. 
Patting your nightstand, you grab your phone. 01:15. It's still so early. Why did you wake up so suddenly?
And then you notice it. At first, it's just a red blur standing in your nightstand, but then, as you focus your wet eyes, they widen in fear, and you clasp your hand over your mouth. 
There's a single red rose in the nightstand. He's been in your room. 
He was near you. 
A sob disturbs the quietness of the night, and almost immediately, it gets drowned out by a loud thunderclap. And then, you see something else. 
Trembling fingers reach out, and you grab the small paper: it's a photo. And when your eyes adjust to the image and your brain processes it, you stay frozen in place, your breath held in suspension as more tears flood your eyes. 
It’s a polaroid of you sleeping. Your brows are furrowed, and your cheek is wet, but what steals your breath is the huge, veiny, tanned hand that's gripping your hair in possession. The word ‘mine’ is scribbled in red across the picture in a distinct claim. 
He was in your house. 
He was in your room. 
He touched you. 
And you didn't even notice.
Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall
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asheronangel · 2 days ago
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THIS LOOKS SUPER FUN!! I wasn't tagged, but I'm taking advantage of that "and anyone else who wants to join" offer...
A - Alas, it turned out his brothers could not consent to a blood draw at the ripe ages of ten, eleven, and twelve, Purple, even though he had prepared a local anesthetic so they didn't feel even a pinch of pain, and each of them were rewarded with the colourful, patterned band-aid of their choice afterwards
W - When Donnie himself had confirmed they were two different species, that it was highly improbable that they actually had the same birthday (not that it mattered, really, since the four of them all shared the same date for their mutation day, one that was left to the turtles to remember and celebrate), he still insisted and insisted that they shared this “sixth sense,” (which, again, Donnie himself argued the accuracy of, seeing as humans had far more senses than five) supposedly meant for actual twins.
A - And when Donnie came up with a powerpoint presentation of how ghosts would be real if they were real, with a bonus fifteen page essay linked as an epilogue that none of them bothered to read, Leo had been left with Mikey crying into his room for nights afterwards, a shivering body pressed close next to his own, like Leo’s blankets were any more effective at warding away these hypothetical creatures.
R - Raph stared, stared, having taken a step with the intent to stop him from falling, but ultimately useless, as he didn’t trust his trembling arms to do much more than hug the precious precious cargo shakily to his chest.
D - “Donnie?!” Mikey finally shrieked, full of the the horror Raph couldn’t quite find it in himself to reach -something that was there, should be there, following him, but just hadn’t caught up yet -and squirmed in Raph’s arms, which tightened weakly in response because please, Mikey, if Raph let’s you fall now I don’t know if I could hold you again.
the first A is from one wip, w and the second a are from another wip, and r and d are from a third wip :D
My word is hmmm... CASUALTY
Tagging the moots that come to mind when I think of writing, sorry if I missed you!!
@ajthepeach @maymaymayonase @carrots-bear (we're moots I believe, you just followed me on my main blog...) @bagels-and-cream-cheese3333 @conartist170 @imagionationstation @barnowlbookworm and open tags for anyone who wants to join with this word :D
Word Ask Game
Rules: You are given a word - share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of that word!
Thank you @mistresslrigtar for tagging me 😊 (I love tag games! They're an outlet my tendency to ramble endlessly about things I really love). My word is SWORD! All sentences from the current WIP chapter of On My Honor.
S - Sliding silently inside, he quickly locked the door behind him.
W - "Where are you going so fast?" A hand grabbed Link's shoulder, jerking him to a halt.
O - "Only one way to know for sure," Link said.
R - "Right." They never would, though, Link already knew.
D - Distantly, the clock in the center of town chimed the late hour, and a surge of panic told him he needed to leave, and he needed to leave now, but his feet were fixed to the floor.
As for tagging others, I'm not sure who has already played, but I would love to hear from @poposusz, @silvrash-797, @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet, or @fan-girls-r-us with the word LOVE (in honor of my love ❤️ for you all!)
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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 11 months ago
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posting this with absolutely no context
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why-the-heck-not · 3 months ago
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me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))
#but after my thesis me & brains have been on a break bc got tired reading abt them during that (bc I had a topic that sorta allowed me to#sidetrack to brain stuff also) but seems I'm over the brain overload now#yay? i guess#also no one who actually studies medicine/brains/etc. yell at me abt wikipedia and like ''why are u studying that like that''#I'm just going through the wikipedia & reading article abstracts path; nothing serious#also my procrastination has reached inhuman levels like it's a full-time job now#bc I have like a chill week's worth of work to do and then I've done the courses for my bachelor's degree#but sending in that ''heyy i'm done with the courses let me graduate''-thing fills me up with sO MUCH anxiety & dread I'm working so slow#now (even tho couldn't send that in for like a month bc gotta first wait the courses to be graded and stuff so in actuality I should#not be slowing down even a bit bc I need to finally be done with this damn degree asap; gotta move on and should've ages ago (it's actually#super bad how late I'm with it (1.5 mf years jesus christ; I'm not even like a little bit proud abt getting a degree anymore like I'm sorta#just embarrassed if I have to tell ppl like ''yea I graduated'' bc dude ?? only now?? u were supposed to be done with that 1.5year#ago what have u been doing (fuck if I know) so I'm keeping it like ''if anyone asks'' basis)))#(the tags and parantheses started a life of their own lol sorry abt that)#studyblr#studyspo#bookblr#booklr#study#november 2024#2024
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sovaharbor · 1 month ago
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actually am i the only person who finds it so fucking weird that varric of all people was the one to die for solas. like. varric? varric??? they didn't even get along half the time lmao... like there's an entire part of cole's arc where him and solas are diametrically opposed and whoever "wins", the other is very much not happy about it. what the fuck happened between trespasser - where varric is literally viscount of kirkwall and kinda fucking busy with that!! - and suddenly him giving this much of a shit about solas????
okay, yeah, he's in the comics. okay, yeah, he's working for the inquisition in the comics. but honestly
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i'm gonna be so for real, i don't really think i'm going to listen to the comics when this is apparently a plot thread in knight errant lmao. VARRIC got an invitation to SEBASTIAN'S birthday party?? varric, the guy who literally hated sebastian???? who would be hated by sebastian, in turn, especially if hawke saved the mages - which i'm 99% sure is what happens in bioware's canon? so like???
i dont know. it's just so weird. varric being in inquisition makes sense. cassandra forces him into it, there's a lot going on, man he just works here. whatever. but his role in TV just does not to me. him choosing, apparently, Apparently, after this, to continue with the inquisition, when he's busy being viscount (and hates it, yeah, sure, but he's still doing it because kirkwall is his home) and doesn't really care about solas except now he DOES, actually, to the point that when he is confronted with solas actively doing the ritual he's supposed to stop, he thinks he can talk him down. when EVERYTHING he knows about solas points to the opposite. he knows he is stubborn and obstinate and yeah, he cares, but that is why he is doing this. he knows solas cares to a fault. knows he will do anything to fix what is apparently a wrong by his own hands.
so why talk to him? why DIE for him? varric is smart. varric knows people (or so he thinks). that's his entire fucking schtick. you're gonna look me in the eye and tell me he's gonna sacrifice his life for SOLAS?????
it's so weird man. i don't even know if any of this made sense. but it's so weird to me.
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bagheerita · 5 months ago
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So I read A Stitch in Time and one result of that which I was certainly not expecting was that I feel so much sympathy for Enabran Tain. Garak's life is a tragedy, but Tain's is a fucking black comedy.
I mean, he's a terrible person and an absolute shitbag, but can you imagine? You have this kid. You go to all the trouble of arranging for him to be raised in a family situation where he won't be rejected from society for being your bastard. You get him into the nicest indoctrination school where he can hobnob with plenty of uppercrust kids. You get him a job in your Order and all the proper training. And he's actually, like, really good at it. But he has this fatal flaw of being completely incapable of not making stupid, short-sighted, emotional decisions.
A scene I imagine has to have happened just prior to Garak and Tain's confrontation at the end of part II:
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Like goddamn. When Tain asked "what's your plan for getting rid of her husband?" and Garak's just like "plan what plan." Dude. I'M disappointed, I can only imagine the guy who's job it is to know and plan for everything isn't at least as disappointed.
I know he didn't actually, but do you think there was ever a time when Tain wanted to be like, You know what. Just go back to Tolan and become a gardener. Join that illegal hippie cult. It's fine.
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dreaming-of-barbi · 6 months ago
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That's so fucked up that people are romantizing Franco, because even Red Barrels are showing him as a total creep and disgusting person. In Outlast Tag I have a feeling that some artists are making him completly different character, making him charming/safe/lovely. I even have seen some people who were drawing him with normal face (without big forehead) and you couldn't tell them that it's the right character design! I feel like Franco enjoyers are more agressive than fans of other Outlast character. Even with Coyle/Eddie simps they seem to understand that they are evil and they murder others, but with Franco I feel like they can take it when someone tell them that he's grown up, murder people in very brutal way and his voice lines are just disgusting... it really seems that people are getting agressive only because someone tell some shit about 🎀✨️Franco🎀✨️. I know his fans isn't the only one that have stick in their ass (cause I seen a lot of shit bout Coyle/Big Grunts/Easterman etc.) but yall need to understand that FRANCO IS A GROWN ASS MAN and you would run for your life if you'd meet someone in irl as 1% fucked up as he is. Saying that he's just a Baby and he made nothing wrong is just 🤮 and problem is in yall if you justificate him and things he made.
idk how to tell you this ,,,, but this game is fictional. The characters are fictional. You're free to feel however you want about them, just like I and anyone else is.
I partially agree with the part about changing his appearance to make him look more "normal" or whatever, but at the same time people are allowed to interpret their favs however they want to. They can draw / write for him however they want to. I don't like "fixing" his face, just because it (personally) feels like saying "he's too ugly", but again, that's just me. As an artist, I know that people are going to have different interpretations of a character I like. It's just part of other people existing in the world. Not everyone thinks like you do, and that's okay.
Do you know how many posts I saw (and STILL see) about Eddie Gluskin, doing essentially the same thing as what you said people do with Franco?? That man would cut you open to "make a baby in you" no hesitation and people still ""romanticize"" him (me fuckin included I LOVE YOU EDDIE). Its just part of liking fucked up characters, some people are going to want to make them more "normal".
Personally, I see the normalization as more like wanting to give him some normalcy in his life, because of his past / lore. I love the idea of letting Franco have a normal life, be a normal person. A life where he never had to deal with the stupid Mafia stuff, had a decent father and never ran into Murkoff, having a normal, happy life. But, I also seriously adore his original, fucked up character.
Honestly, who actually cares if people are "justifying" his actions??? None of them are real. He is not real. I have never understood the sentiment that you have to make sure people know you don't justify a fictional characters actions... they are not real. It's not a real person. None of the things he did happened.
Maybe it's just me, but I would not run from someone like him. That's not some edge lord "im so evil and dark" bs but because of my real life experiences. Been with and around people in my life / family who are quite like him and I didn't run.
I imagine some of us are using it as a sort of coping mechanism, because (at least for me) some of us dealt with people who treated us like he would. Though, that's getting into personal territory, and I won't try and speak for others.
All I can really say is either learn that not everybody's going to have the same ideas as you or block the tag. Sorry if that's too harsh a response, but life is too short to really give that much of a fuck about someone /something other people like.
And I've said this before but this is literally Outlast, all of the characters are this fucked up, it's not just him.
Like does no one remember Outlast 2??? Does no one remember the pile of dead burnt babies, or the hundreds of other fucked up things in that game?? I really feel like Franco does not compare.
So, can we please just be over with this now? I mean, drama is totally fun and I love it, but I can imagine others don't.
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kanonavi · 1 month ago
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2024 XVX Fic Recs!
Hi everyone, I hope you're having a lovely and restful holiday season! Last year around this time, I posted 10* xvx recommendations, and since I haven't gotten tired of this lovely ship, or meticulously tracking all of the fics I read in a year, I'm back for year 2!
As with any rec list, please keep an eye on the ratings and tags of any given fic. My tastes might not be to your tastes, and that's okay, just make sure to take care of yourselves first and foremost. This especially applies now because there will be a couple of explicit fics that I shout out this year. Now, here's 10** fics that I read this year that I think other fans of xvx would enjoy!
*Plus a few extras ;)
**With the return of a few extras, since I like y'all so much ;))
~
Lighthouse, by HuaFeiHua (@hua-fei-hua) [Ongoing, Teen, 20.3k, 5/15 chapters]
When one of Xiao’s endless battles against the remnants of old gods leads to the slaughter of an innocent child, the guilty adeptus knows he must pay penance for his crimes. However, upon meeting with his Lord, ready and willing to be executed, Rex Lapis refuses to terminate their contract before its due time. Instead, he sends the yaksha to the Land of Dreams, where he is to spend a human lifetime hunting nightmares to atone. Xiao expects it to be lonesome work, but then: enter Venti, a bard from Mondstadt whose dreams of a castle with a lighthouse by the sea somehow draw Xiao back to him time and time again. And while Xiao means only to spend the century executing his duty, Venti somehow manages to make their time spent together into something almost like a sweet dream. Now if only Xiao would let him.
HuaFeiHua is our first returning author from last year’s list, but now that they’ve not only emerged from the Anonymous collection but also started posting their love letter to xiaoven, I couldn’t not include it here. If there’s any fic that knows how to do atmosphere, it’s this one. The liminal unreality of dreams is captured immaculately in this fic, and it makes the perfect setting for Venti and Xiao to dance around their emotions and each other like the avoidant disasters that they are. It manages to read exactly like the fairy tales that it was inspired by while also feeling right at home in the centuries that exist before Genshin canon, and for someone like me who loves canon setting fics, that’s more than I could have ever asked for.
Now, I was going to make a joke about nepotism but then Hua told me that the correct term is– *checks smudged writing on my palm* “cronyism”, so actually I give up.
~
Extra Rec: While Hua has many fantastic fics that you can now find easily in one place after their liberation from the Anonymous collection, I want to specifically shout out the absolute full course meal of a smut fic that they posted for their de-anoning debut. Do mind the Explicit Rating, though.
~
Catching Air, by Sub_Reality (Twitter: @/sub_reality__) [Ongoing, Teen, 164k, 13/21 chapters]
“Your assignment,” Ningguang said, “Is to assist the Ordo Favonius of Mondstadt in dismantling a newly-surfaced criminal organisation that goes by the name of the ‘Abyssi Familia’.” Exactly one week into their new positions, the 115th generation of the Liyue Qixing’s secret elite forces are given their first assignment; to take down a major criminal syndicate that is surfacing in their neighbouring nation of Mondstadt. Consisting of 5 of the most dangerous personnel across databases continent-wide, their assignment will conclude when all five of their targets are arrested, subdued, or dead. However, of the five is an enigmatic mercenary by the name of Arsenic - holding claim to the highest current kill count, and without a single failed hit. They are notorious for their weaponization of toxins, their mysterious escapes from assassinations, and for their distinguishing feature of not having a single shred of information or data regarding them. Something which, the Ordo Favonius emphasises, is highly concerning. With the arcane nature of Arsenic and the Abyssi Familia, one could say the Yakshas have quite the unpredictable mission ahead of them.
If you’ve ever wanted to be blown away by worldbuilding in a fic, this is one to read. With an incredible eye for detail, the author has reconstructed Teyvat in a far-off cyberpunk future that offers just as much fast-paced secret agent action as it does cultural details of the futuristic Mondstadt that the story inhabits. In terms of xiaoven, the burn is slow with this one, but Xiao and his fellow Yakshas (reimagined with their own mortal identities and personalities) have more than managed to carry the story so far. The mystery just hit a big reveal in recent chapters, so if there’s any time to start reading this one, it would be now!
~
the memory department, by twomooncorner (@earlgreyhui) [General Audiences, 3k, One-Shot, Archive-Locked]
The site of the memory debris takes a bus ride and a half to get to, past a billboard with flapping holes torn through, an abandoned gas station, and a sign for an old water park standing on only two rusted legs. The mountains reach halfway around, and the lakebed which might have started as a meteorite crater and then filled with water and then went back to being a crater again is shiny and hard. Venti hops off the bus and opens a can of soda with his teeth. Let’s get to work, he says.
I told myself I was only going to include one of the fics from Moonlight Melody, but I just couldn’t resist this one. I love the concept of the afterlife as a deeply dull bureaucracy, so seeing Venti and Xiao working as reapers at the very bottom of the ladder was incredibly interesting. But then that premise was executed with some absolutely stunning prose that stole my breath away. This fic has an alluring quality that draws you in until you’re lost in the moment it encompasses just as deeply as the characters are. I’d linger for thousands of words more if I could.
~
If Any Lesser, I, by twodimensionaltrash (Bluesky: @/novelelitist.bsky.social) [General Audiences, 3k, One-Shot]
'A mighty paw swipes at him. He twists his upper body to evade and stumbles back. The demon’s leg passes through the spear like it’s nothing. Like he’s nothing. He hates it. Claws and fists. Teeth and nails. They push and pull, hunter and prey, switching roles on instinct. Andrius puts Xiao on his back foot. Xiao chases Andrius to the edge of cliffs. The laughter of children echoes in Xiao’s head, accompanied by the songs of a bard. Beneath the lowest notes there’s the roar of flames, the flicker of a candle before life burns out, and in the center of it, him. In the midst of a nightmare, Xiao is pulled into Venti's dreams.
The first thing that drew me to this fic was the characterization, which was both intimate and irreverent in a way that felt super refreshing to my thoroughly xiaoven-enchanted brain. Then it follows up with a super interesting discussion of karmic debt and erosion that puts a spin on the game’s portrayals of the phenomena and yet feels right at home in the setting all the same. This was my favorite fic from the Moonlight Melody anthology, and I’m just glad it got crossposted so I can sing its praises in this list!
~
collateral damage, by connections [Teen, 1.8k, One-Shot]
Another bite. Almonds carry only the smallest hint of bitterness with them that reminds him all the same of who he is, and of what he has done, and of how much it hurts. Another bite. He’s pretty sure he deserves this. Violence is the only language he has ever known.
This fic is more a Xiao character study with a dash of xiaoven for flavor, but I still wanted to include it as an example of finely-aged xiaoven vintage. Xiao’s desperation to be loved by Venti but also by Morax is palpable, an ever-tragic contrast against the weight of his karmic debts and the blood on his hands. It was a pleasant surprise to see the gentleness that this author gave to Xiao, especially with all the edge that the game characterized him with at the time. That gentleness has been important to me ever since I fell down the xiaoven rabbit hole, so there’s something nice about seeing it in a fic posted before I would have even known his name.
~
now i see (holding you close), by esperra [Explicit, 5.8k, One-Shot]
“Did that feel good?” Venti asks gently. He cups Xiao’s cheek; Xiao leans into the touch almost on instinct. “I don’t… I’ve never done this before,” Xiao says. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” “Whatever feels good, my love. That’s all that matters.”
As I’ve noted a couple times in the past in tag games and the like, xiaoven is actually pretty different from my previous shipping pedigree, and nothing reminds me of that more than the fact that a lot of xiaoven smut just isn’t to my personal tastes. This fic, however, managed to break that streak! If you’re looking for something steamy, this fic probably won’t do it for you, but if you enjoy the way that the relationships between characters can be explored through sexual intimacy, this is definitely one to read. I just think it’s sweet when two characters who love each other have sex that’s very deeply Okay and only love each other more for it.
~
carry my fears as the heavens set fire, by yanrans (Twitter: @/yanrans) [Teen, 25.6k, One-Shot]
“Dear Yaksha, do you remember me?” The boy wraps his hands around Xiao’s; even through his gloves, he can feel heat, thick and heady, sink deep into his skin. The fire licks his bones, clawing secrets in the cracks in its surface. Xiao knows better than to let himself burn, knows that Liyue is worth more than his scorched ashes, but this is a dream. This is a dream, so there are no battles to fight, no duties to follow. The boy can strike a match on Xiao’s skin, and Xiao can watch as all his armor dissolves in smoke. The boy tugs, and Xiao comes unmoored. In which Xiao and Venti meet in a series of dreams. Sort of.
There’s something quintessentially xiaoven about this fic that I could taste only a few thousand words in. This fic has it all, from Xiao’s desire to do good battling with his fear of hurting everything he touches, to Venti’s gentle insistence on working his way into Xiao’s good graces with his indomitable charm, all with a splash of corruption angst for a bit of extra spice. If you’re looking for canonverse fics, this definitely deserves to go on your list.
~
to be unbroken and brave again, by magicites (Bluesky: @/ellsyx.bsky.social) [Complete, Teen, 36.4k, 3/3 chapters]
“What could I possibly have to forgive you for?” Venti asks. What could Xiao say? There are so many answers. For trying to grant him freedom and only giving him the same power that’s doomed to tear him apart. For hearing that Morax died so long after he did. For starving for his touch so selfishly. For letting him be lonely. There’s so much; they tangle in his throat. “For making you wait,” he settles on. “Ehe, I'll forgive you, but only if you play a duet with me tomorrow." He has work to do, but— “Yes.” - How the duty-chained Anemo Archon and the Trickster Yaksha found freedom.
When it comes to a prompt as classic as a roleswap, it’s the details that really make a story, and this fic absolutely has it made. As the second returning author from last year, I’ve made it clear that I adore magicites’ work, but the way that she broke down Xiao and Venti’s characters and reconstructed them as a plausible Anemo Archon and Yaksha blew my mind as I was reading this fic. It’s the friction that arises from their roles that makes xiaoven a compelling ship: Venti as the Anemo Archon went out of his way to free not only his people but also himself from the chains of rulership that constrained them before, while Xiao as a Yaksha is bound to Liyue by his contract despite the freedom that he craves. For those roles to then be switched while having the conflicts that bind the characters remain is a truly impressive feat that makes this story totally worth the read.
~
A Surefire Guide to Wingmanning, by corviidae (@corviidaees) [Complete, Teen, 19.1k, 2/2 chapters]
Illuminated by the glow of gold-scorched parchment, the harsh lines of Xiao’s face smoothen into confusion, then resignation. He takes a steadying breath. “You aren’t leaving.” “I’m bound to you until I find you love,” Venti corrects. “Yeah, so you aren’t leaving.” “Wrong! I have a hot streak of success.” Venti claps his hands, the contract scrolling back up into non-existence. “Now that you understand, shall we start over? My name’s Venti, and I’m your assigned Cupid. Your wingman, if you will.” “... Xiao.” Or: Xiao is, maybe, a little in love with his Cupid. Venti does not catch on.
I first read this fic back in 2021 and had one particular line from it permanently branded into my memory (that you’re gonna have to read it to hear!), so I was delighted to find that it still holds up beautifully. This fic lives up to its “Sitcom” tag, because it managed to pull smiles and laughs out of me left and right as Venti tries (emphasis on tries) to find Xiao the perfect partner. It’s an incredibly sweet, comfy read, and I think that’s what we all need in our lives sometimes.
~
if these wings could fly, by MaximillianDelirium (@delirious-dove) [Complete, Teen, 145.7k, 35/35 chapters]
To Xiao, Barbatos was the embodiment of everything he was not: happy, free, fully confident in who he was. His music made the shadows in Xiao’s head retreat. They were all about living life to the fullest, having hope when the world was turned against you, and having fun (something that was almost entirely foreign to Xiao). And now he was going to have to give away all his albums, delete Barbatos’ songs off his phone, and never listen to his music again. Just looking at the albums lined up on the shelf made Xiao cringe. He’d thought that if he ever did get a chance to meet his idol, it would be in a controlled space. He would have said something normal, like, Your music means a lot to me. Then he would’ve shaken Barbatos’ hand, gotten an autograph, and lived out the rest of his life in peace. Xiao’s idol had watched him punch a guy in the stomach. Since Zhongli's early retirement, Xiao's life has been aimless. But a chance encounter sets him on a new and uncharted path.
It only took another year, but in the end I managed to complete the trifecta of xiaoven idol aus. This is one of those fics where you can blink and suddenly five chapters have gone by, because it’s just that engrossing. It has all of the drama and intrigue that one would expect from a celebrity au while still maintaining the typical, down-to-earth chemistry that draws Xiao and Venti together. You know a story is good when it has me pulling out the popcorn for miscommunication plotlines instead of closing the tab, and it’s not only xiaoven, but the entirety of the well-loved ensemble cast that come together to make this the enthralling story that it is.
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Extra Recs: Not only does this fic have a beautiful epilogue where xiaoven get the happily ever after that they deserve, but there’s also an entire series that features several of the side pairings from this fic’s universe, which are also worth checking out!
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That's a wrap on another year! If you got this far, thank you so much, and I hope I've given you some new fics for your to-read list! This year, I feel like I did a lot more reading back compared to the year before. Some of these fics I only read because they were recommended to me by fellow fans, which I appreciate so much, but it could also mean that there are fewer hidden gems this year than the last, so I hope you can forgive me.
I'm looking forward to what next year will bring, and hopefully I'll be back with even more fics to share! Happy holidays to all, and much love <3
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lunarharp · 2 years ago
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into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.
the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the witch.
for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.
the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.
but they were never whole to begin with, were they?
qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.
olly says nothing.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#sorry i wanted to make a new post for my fic since the first illustration is new.#*stands in the middle of a desolate field in the pouring rain* Please Read My Tale...Blease..Oh god please..*collapses to the ground*#someone asked if there's spoilers in it. Um...yes. Sorry...it's about everything#maybe i should describe it more? it's about qifrey becoming more and more disabled - as i feel is his canon trajectory#and both of them processing the choices that have been made. it was necessary for me to explore this in order to fully understand orufrey#and for them to have the cathartic conclusion-that's why this is important to me for my witch hat fanwork making life. this connects it all#and having dived into qifrey's mind and lived through oru's feelings i was able to get to a place that is possible for them.#the hit/kudos ratio is so pathetic idek what happened. ppl opening it realising its long and saving it for later or just bailing lmfao#idek any more i hate advertising my writing i hate trying to get more ppl to read my long fics it's so hard 🥲#i'm so much prouder of this than my art...i was able to sink deeply into the orufrey feelings i had always wanted to fully explore#so. it's there lol.........i reread the date/kiss segment today after trying to forget about it thinking maybe the fic is just BAD lol#and like.....nope! i like it very much and this is what i was trying to get across. and it's always there to be read by anyone who wants to#and i will always remember the bliss i felt while writing when i was just lost in their world and living as them. dear GOD i love them.#i'm grateful to myself that i put in the work and love to make this so that i can always come back to it. i wanna illustrate scenes properly#but i'm never satisfied with drawing things i've written because i just can't capture the vivid experience in my mind. maybe one day.
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antihibikase-archive · 1 year ago
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It is incredibly isolating to navigate through fandom as an aromantic person. Aro experiences are so varied, and there is no definite aro experience that encapsulates the alienation that fandom spaces cause for certain people.
Fandom is mostly built and structured on shipping. And if not, the blorbofication of characters, which tends to go down the shipping pipeline; where does that leave the romance repulsed aro person who genuinely does not want to see any form of shipping? Platonic dynamics, right?
Yeah, sure. But by platonic dynamics, it's only "best friends" or "family" right? Where does that leave the aro folks with undefined labels? No, qprs aren't a get-out-of-jail card.
And qprs- they have no rules or standards set upon them by society, not even having a clear definition for what it is, because not all qprs are the same. Yet, for some reason, it ended up becoming the "nonbinary" option to a lot of people- not romantic or "regular" platonic? Qpr it is, right?
But where does that leave the aro folk who don't want a qpr? Who don't wish to see characters depicted in pairs or trios or so forth- who embrace the lack of a partner?
And these concepts presented; when aro folk talk about them, do you care? And if you do, do you understand? Do you try to?
If you aren't aro, but wish to be supportive, are you a genuine ally? Do you raise the concerns of aro folk you share the space with?
Or do you take a look at these concepts- and decide you understand them "well" enough? Do you decide to speak for aro folks instead?
Do you depict relationships outside of romance because you believe in the importance of platonic relationships? Will you accept the fact that not all platonic interactions will be familial or "best friends"?
Can you accept depictions of qprs outside of "more than friends, less than lovers"? Are you willing to accept it is not just "best friends" or "romance lite"? Will you accept that nothing is inherently romantic- and characters in a qpr may fall under your standards of lovers?
Can you resist the urge to put every character in a pair or trio or group? Are you comfortable with the notion of characters finding more joy in being by themselves, outside of all those lenses you see them in?
It's good if you can.
And if you can't, at the very least, do you understand why some aro folk in your space are upset? Embittered by your favorite ships? Starving for representation?
Did you depict these characters with these concepts with the knowledge that aromanticism is fluid?
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johnnyy-guitarr · 22 days ago
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tagged by @futuristicdoormats789 for ' 9 books i want to read in 2025 ' -- thank you for the tag my friend 🖤 1 . in the kingdom of ice : the grand and terrible journey of the uss jeanette by hampton sides - currently reading 2 . sea of glory : america's voyage of discovery, the u.s. exploring expedition of the 1830s by nathaniel philbrick 3 . in the heart of the sea : the tragedy of the whaleship essex by nathaniel philbrick 4 . moby-dick by herman melville 5 . the annotated h . p . lovecraft edited by s . t . joshi ( along with more annotated h . p . lovecraft, which has peter cannon on it as well ) 6 . the worst journey in the world by apsley cherry-garrard 7 . endurance : shackleton's incredible voyage by alfred lansing 8 . i may be some time : ice and the english imagination by francis spufford 9 . madhouse at the end of the earth by julian sancton i'm tagging @aglaophotis, along with @sunlaire and @copperphysics106, both of whom i know have already been tagged by prev but well . i'm tagging you too because i wanna know your reading lists ( so i hope you don't mind 🙇 ) as well, i'll tag @lurakha and @laindtt, both of whom know me better as @playitagainmyjohnny, but well, hello from my fandom blog lol 👋 i'm not sure if either of y'all are much for reading but just in case, i'd love to know what you're looking to read this year 🖤 and lastly, anyone else who might see this, feel free to do it too if you'd like and tag me so i can see 🖤
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vtimbertiger · 11 months ago
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Big Fan of Arthur Bennet
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I have no clue what happens after Ep.5 because I'm a broke bitch but I will eventually
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maryasmorevna · 9 months ago
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why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip
#it's ridiculous. this ship is... stupidly cliché. like if you know fandoms at all#you could easily guess why people would be into it. hello?? have you tried to watch tfa without your hate-on-kyle-ron goggles?#did you watch their scenes together? you don't have to like something to recognize the hints#hell. at the time i didn't really like jonerys but i realized they were going to be a thing when i read agot in 2011#like folks. it's been nearly TEN LONG YEARS. let it go. LET IT FUCKING GOOOO#and for the lucy/cooper shippers out there who think reylos are (again) delusional when they compare the two ships:#no. *you* are being delusional only because you think reylo is unsexy and uncool (which is your right to think btw. obv)#if you can't see why someone would like both of these pairings for similar reasons... idk what to say honestly#people compared it to hannigram... honestly. again i see why they would appeal to anyone who's into both ships#i really do. but... unpopular opinion (since i'm more of a clannibal fan than i could ever be of reylo):#they are more similar to reylo than will/hannibal. there i said it#i'm not talking about the writing (admittedly the quality of it was questionable). i'm talking about tropes#never mind that imo the ghoul is more akin to vader than kylo but whatever#hannibal is an unapologetic kind of villain. he's not gonna have a redemption arc and that's okay#cooper is an antivillain who used to be a good man and became a disfigured cruel bastard. a parody of himself#lucy is him. him before the bombs dropped before he discovered the person he trusted the most wanted to commit genocide#nice. moral. polite. infused with the Good Old American Values™. he's basically her dark side#all of this is very hannigram/clannibal. i'm not denying it at all#but what'll likely happen is that lucy's actions will have a positive influence on the ghoul and remind him of what it means to be a man#and that's way more reylo-like. sorry.#beauty&thebeast/villain with some hidden good in him+morally righteous heroine/enemies to lovers etc.#i mean. hello??..... having said that. i'm not so much of a reylo shipper anymore and tbh never was. i really liked it at the time#but i was never fond of the st era. my fav characters are vader and leia and revan from the old eu. just saying#*and* it's also not impossible lucy gets darker with the ghoul as her traveling companion. in fact i wouldn't dislike it at all#if done well i mean#but i would still like for people to be intellectually honest and less puerile. god knows i have my notps#but i really don't give a fuck about the shippers. good for them i guess? i have better taste lmao but that's heavily subjective#val rambles in the tags#val speaks#txt
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