#implied/referenced eating disorders

[cookies-over-yonder]

home

Young adult Lincoln Li-Wilson gets a call in the middle of the night from a friend he hasn't talked to in years: Taylor Swift.

ao3

please heed the warnings in the tags. thank you! <3

Link stares at his phone.

His phone with an incoming call from a friend he hasn’t properly spoken to in at least three years.

Taylor Swift.

He swipes to answer, hand shaking.

They didn’t have a falling out, just… drifted.

But to be frank, Link misses him constantly.

“Taylor?”

“Link?”

“Yeah, it’s me… uh… what’s up?”

“Can—um—can you come over?”

What.

Link hasn’t even seen Taylor since graduation.

Why would Taylor want him to come over right now?

It couldn’t be for a hook-up either—Taylor knows he’s ace.

But then he hears unsteady breathing on the other end.

“Is everything okay?”

“Um—I—”

Link hears a sob. His stomach drops.

“No. I—I need help… I didn’t know who to call. Sorry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, Taylor, just breathe.”

He doesn’t follow that instruction, because Link hears more sobs and gasps.

“Okay. Listen to me, Taylor. Text me your address. I’ll be there soon.”

“Mmkay… my back door is unlocked.”

“That seems unsafe.”

“I know. Anyway I—I’m in the… the bathroom. You’ll see it when you walk in.”

“Okay, I’m coming, just keep breathing.”

“I’m trying.”

Link gets Taylor’s address and drives over right away.

The backdoor is unlocked, and Link locks it once he’s inside.

This place is big .

It’s a condo on the bottom floor of the building, and it looks expensive .

Link isn’t surprised.

He finds the bathroom easily, and knocks before turning the knob and opening the door.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, laying eyes on Taylor, curled up sobbing next to a shit ton of pill bottles scattered across the floor. “Taylor, did you take something?” he asks, kneeling down in front of Taylor and brushing his much longer hair away from his face to get a look in his eyes.

He shakes his head quickly. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I called you instead,” he says between gasps. “I—I—I can’t breathe—”

“Taylor, Taylor, hey ,” Link cups his face with his hands and looks him in the eyes, “it’s gonna be alright, I promise. You’re sure you didn’t take anything?”

He nods, sobbing again.

“I’m gonna pick you up and take you to the couch, okay?”

He nods again.

Link scoops him up just as easily as he did way back when. In fact, Taylor seems slightly lighter than before.

He kicks some clothes out of the way and sets Taylor down on the couch, sitting across from him.

“Sorry I— fuck —I know we haven’t talked in years I just—I haven’t been as close with anyone since you,” Taylor says, wiping his tears and trying to steady his breathing.

Link grabs hold of Taylor’s hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing. “Taylor, what happened?”

He can’t help but cry himself asking it.

“I—I just, I kept feeling like there was no point anymore. And—and I couldn’t shake it. I’m all alone, and I don’t know why I did this to myself. I miss Mom, I miss you, I miss everyone, and I—I just…” he pauses to catch his breath, and fails but barrels on, “I’m so fucked up in the head, Link. I keep having nightmares about sophomore year. I dropped out of college because I wouldn’t stop having panic attacks during class. I—I wanted it all to be over. I still do. I still do . That’s why I—I needed you.”

Link doesn’t know what to say.

Holding back a sob, he hugs Taylor as tight as he can, thankful he’s still here and alive .

“I miss my mommy ,” Taylor sobs into Link’s shoulder. “I miss her. I miss her. I miss her so much.”

“She still live at your old address?”

Taylor nods.

“Come on,” Link says, getting up.

“Where are we going?”

“My car. I’m taking you home.”

Taylor nods with a wobbly, “Thank you.”

[faraway-sunshine]

School Uniform and Growing Up

By Sunny Kanemaru

I tried on my uniform today and looked myself in the mirror, and felt small.

When I mentioned visiting the school, I didn't mention the uniform tryout, and that's because it was awkward. Mom and the store clerk had to try and find a balance between what was long enough to fit over me and what was tight enough to not be too baggy.

It's taken the past few months to realise what my own body had become, how it grew upward and awkward and yet my habits and fears and general depressed state made it turn deprived and weak and scrawny. One doctor diagnosed how this had delayed most of my puberty developments as 'failure to thrive'. That feels like an accurate name for the past few years, how I was surviving but not really living.

Trying to fix it all has its ups and downs. Days where I eat almost normally or I hang out with friends and my worries slip away, days where Mom gives me the sad eyes as she begs me to at least swallow a few forkfuls without gagging, one day where she took me to the hospital to make sure I was alright and they dismissed me and said that I was just trying to beg for attention.

When sorting out the uniform, the clerk suggested buying the clothes extra big in case I grow into them with a sort of pointed look and I wanted to fall into the ground.

The only part I liked of my old reflection was the constance of it all. I was maybe getting a bit taller, and my hair would either grow with time or fall out from sickness, but I still looked twelve years old and that was the only thing that made me smile. I didn't intend to pause time on my own body like this, but I wasn't exactly scared of the changes when I should have been. I was at a point where growing up scared me, where I'd rather die young than live properly without her.

Today, I put on my uniform after my bath to make sure it's fine for school. I gingerly removed the eyepatch; my eye isn't fully healed from the cataract surgery yet but I still wasn't used to seeing through its battered lens. I felt like a child in adult clothing, but I saw myself finally how everyone else does. I think today was the day it really sunk in that I'm not twelve anymore. I'm older than before, older even than Mari ever got to be. It hurts, knowing how long it's been and how much I missed in the room and knowing that I was never supposed to be older than my big sister.

Today, I finally let myself begin to grow up.

(Sunday 3rd September, 2000, 8:05 PM)

[wangxianficrecs]

Ice Dust by raininyourblackeyes

Ice Dust

by raininyourblackeyes (@raininyourblackeyes)

M, WIP, 64k, Wangxian

Summary: When Wei Ying was thirteen, he debuted at the international scene and learned that figure skating was beauty in gravity defying strength. When Wei Ying fell in the warm-up at age of fifteen, the only thing he could think of was "What have I just done?" When Wei Ying was eighteen, he knew that the ice was just frozen water. When Wei Ying was twenty-two, for the first time in his life, he felt free. Or, a figure skating au spanning four seasons long journey of a boy who was told he'd never be able to skate again. Or, Wei Wuxian left the sport at fifteen and then came back, because of Lan Zhan. Simple as that. Kay's comments: The figure skating AU that has my heart in a tight grip featuring all of figure skating's ugliest sides and a messed up Jiang family and damn, Madam Yu was born for the role of messed up figure skating coach who ruins generations of kids. Heed the warnings with this story, but also give it a try, because it's really well-written and I live for Wangxian's relationship in this story. Excerpt: Later that evening, after Wuxian had managed to smuggle a snickers bar into the room without Madam Yu noticing, Lan Wangji returned with a bag for his skates and costume hanging heavily over his slumped shoulder. The only other sign that he had ever competed was evident in the way his hair stuck to his nape and a few bangs sticking out of their place. Other than that, Wangji looked ready to run a marathon. Good shape! Wei Ying practically jumped over the bed. “Lan Wangji! You got all the key points! Not even seniors do that!” He bounced over to the other boy with a grin trying to shove Luo/Lan’s paper protocol in other boy’s face, “You truly are amazing, Lan-ge!” Lan Wangji’s brows furrowed, mouth corners lowering for barely a moment. “Shameless.” He lowered his bag at the end of the bed, slamming the bathroom door behind him. There was really no reason for him to be in a bad mood, Wei Ying thought left standing in the middle of a room with his hands still raised. There was no reason for him to fight with his partner, all their levels were extremely high and the performance actually managed to impress even him! There was really no need to be that rude. The moment Lan Wangji opened the door again, Wuxian stopped with his sulking. “Wangji-ge, I truly meant it! You looked like you wouldn’t know fun if it stared into your face but you do skate so well.”

pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern no powers, ice skating, eating disorders, emotional/psychological abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, physical abuse, not jiang cheng friendly, not yu ziyuan friendly, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, non-linear narrative, time skips

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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[spncompostheap]

These Days

(Inspired by Misha Collins’s poem of the same title)

Cas Novak meets Dean Winchester two weeks after his sixth birthday in first grade. Having never been terribly good at making friends, Seeing Dean on the first day of school inspires Cas to try getting it right that much harder this time. Although their friendship starts off a bit rocky due to Dean’s general unfriendliness, Cas quickly learns that Dean’s whole tough guy routine is mostly just a cover for his overwhelming shyness. 

One day during lunchtime, when Cas tracks Dean down on the playground, he is unsurprised to find the other boy sitting alone. With a rehearsed monologue playing inside his head, Cas musters up the courage to approach Dean, hoping to convince him why they should be friends.

After reciting the words under his breath a few more times, he approaches Dean. He almost misses what the other boy is doing until they're suddenly face to face.

“Hello, Dean, I’m Cas Novak and-”

When Cas looks up to greet his potential new friend, his broad smile fades quickly upon realizing that Dean is elbow-deep in the trash can, trying to snag someone else's sandwich. Dean ducks his head, clearly embarrassed, until Cas offers his lunch box as an alternative.

“Here, have mine,” Cas says.

“Dad always packs me too much, anyway. Or at least that's why Mom says I’m getting so fat-”

“You're not fat, Cas,” Dean says, his voice unexpectedly gentle as he peeks inside Cas’s lunch box.

“But this is a lot of food… Could we maybe share it?”

“Certainly, Dean,” Cas says, scooting up close next to the other boy.

Together, they share peanut butter fluff sandwiches and Capri Suns and talk about comic books for the rest of recess. From that day on, Cas brings food for himself and Dean to share every day, and before long, the two have become inseparable.

***

Third grade is challenging for Cas when his parents’ marriage abruptly falls apart without warning. By mid-November, the yelling, screaming, and slamming of doors gets so intense that Cas is beside himself over how to cope. Sneaking around the kitchen at night, Cas steals as much food as he can carry. Eating becomes the only thing that helps him feel more in control, calming some of his inner chaos, if only temporarily. 

For the next few months, whenever his parents' arguing becomes too loud, Cas goes on autopilot, and his stomach becomes a black hole until he’s so full that his worries evaporate. Soon, Cas’s mindless eating becomes a nightly occurrence. But even when whole loaves of bread, jugs of milk, and cereal boxes go missing overnight, no one seems the wiser. 

By Springtime, everyone in Mr. MacLeod’s class notices how chubby Cas is getting and feels the need to point it out to him. Dean is the only one who focuses on the more subtle changes in his friend's behavior, like how uncharacteristically quiet, sad, and withdrawn he’s become. 

As time passes, Dean becomes increasingly determined to help his friend and invites Cas over to his house after school. The two spend hours watching movies, playing video games, and enjoying each other's company. Dean is relieved that Cas doesn't comment about his small, dingy apartment or complain about his younger brother Sammy constantly being underfoot. Dean is relieved when he sees Cas starting to relax a little until John comes home early and ruins everything.

"Jesus, Dean, can’t you do any better than hanging out with this fat loser all the time?" John slurs, hovering in the doorway and reeking of alcohol.

Biting down hard on his lower lip, Dean feels caught in the middle. While he wants to defend Cas, he's also keenly aware that any kind of talking back will make matters worse. He knows firsthand what a mean drunk John can be. 

Cas looks down and remains silent, but Dean can see the hurt in his eyes. Slowly standing up, Dean feels a surge of anger and wants to say something - anything that might make Cas feel safe again. Instead of lashing out, Dean turns to Cas and watches him closely. At the first sign of tears, Dean realizes there's nothing he can even do because the damage is already done.

After a tense moment, John grumbles something unintelligible and retreats to his room, leaving Dean and Cas alone once more. Dean sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. He hates seeing Cas treated this way, especially in his own home. Turning to Cas, he offers an apologetic look.

"I'm really sorry about that, Cas," Dean says softly. 

"It's okay, Dean. I'm used to it. My mom says the same kind of things all the time." 

They stop hanging out as much after the incident with John, but Dean remains fiercely protective of Cas at school. It becomes widely known all across the playground that anyone caught teasing Cas about anything will have to deal with Dean personally.

***

Although his parents officially separate at the end of fifth grade, Cas’s appetite only gains momentum over the summer. Snacking almost non-stop from June through August, Cas is officially the biggest kid in middle school by the time fall hits. 

On the first day of sixth grade, Cas gets bullied in the cafeteria about his ever-expanding waistline.

"Hey, piggy-piggy, did you eat the entire lunch lady today?" Gordon Walker says, oinking and grunting in Cas’s direction.

Cas tries to brush it off, but Gordon physically blocks his path, so Cas can’t walk away. 

"He’s almost too fat to function," Kubrick Jones says, grinning like an idiot while all the other kids giggle.

Feeling embarrassed, Cas retreats to the boy’s bathroom to be alone. Dean notices his absence almost immediately and goes looking for him. When Dean finds him, Cas has locked himself inside a bathroom stall and is already bordering on inconsolable.

"Please, tell me what's wrong?" Dean asks, leaning in close enough that their foreheads touch.

"Everyone’s making fun of me, Dean," Cas says softly, averting his eyes to tug down the hem of his t-shirt self-consciously.

"You can’t let them get to you like that, man. They're all just assholes who thrive on being as mean as possible," Dean says, wrapping an arm around his friend.

"And besides, I like your new look; you're kind of turning into a tank," Dean says, smiling. 

"I mean it, seriously, Cas. You're so damn sturdy these days, I bet nothing can stop you."

Cas looks up, surprised by Dean’s words. He had always believed that his weight made him weak, but hearing Dean's reframing of things fills him with a newfound sense of empowerment.

"You really think so?" Cas asks, the hint of a smile flickering across his face.

"I know so," Dean says, pulling Cas into a quick hug.

"You're my best friend, and I wouldn't want you any other way."

Cas feels way more confident in his skin for the rest of that year. He doesn't let the bullies' words bring him down anymore, and he even occasionally starts standing up for himself.

***

Once his parent’s divorce is finalized in eighth grade, Cas's dad, Chuck, attempts to reconnect with him using fast food, baked goods, and candy to win his son's affection. Always encouraging Cas to overindulge whenever they spend time together, what begins as a novelty quickly loses its appeal. 

One day after school, Chuck drives them both to an all-you-can-eat buffet. Cas hesitates, getting out of the car, remembering how much he’s already eaten, but doesn’t want to disappoint his dad. Looping around the restaurant, Cas loads up his tray with a mountain of french fries, chicken strips, and miniature desserts. But the moment he sits down beside his father, Chuck's mood changes as he looks over at his son and frowns.

"Don't tell your mother I let you pig out so much, okay? She won't let me hear the end of it about how fat you're getting," Chuck says.

Cas feels a pang of hurt inside his chest; he already knows he’s overweight without Dad reminding him. He just wants to enjoy this time together without being made to feel guilty about something beyond his control.

"Sure thing," Cas says while shoveling food into his mouth.

"Have you ever considered going out for any sports, Cas?" Chuck asks, his tone filled with misguided concern.

"Sports?" Cas asks, tilting his head to the side out of confusion.

"Yeah, you know, like football, basketball, soccer? You'd probably be pretty good at it once if you slimmed down a bit.” Chuck suggests.

"Umm, I guess so," Cas mumbles, looking down at his suddenly empty plate. Despite feeling uncomfortably full and the painful sensation of elastic biting into his waist, Cas forces himself to stand. Because maybe just one more serving, regardless of what will distract him from the unpleasantness of their conversation.

As they finish their meal and leave the restaurant, Chuck nods, pleased with himself for offering his son such valuable advice. Meanwhile, Cas can't shake off the feeling that he failed to meet expectations again. Longing for a simple way to make his dad proud that's not contingent on his physical appearance.

***

Cas becomes increasingly fixated on his size and appearance. He spends numerous afternoons at the library, immersing himself in research about nutrition, diet, and weight loss, desperately hoping to uncover some way to shrink himself just enough to impress his dad. Unfortunately, the more Cas learns, the more overwhelmed and discouraged he becomes. Finally, the information overload of conflicting advice leaves him spiraling into a destructive cycle of binge eating and shame. 

Cas surrenders to his cravings without restraint, seeking the comfort only food can provide. Before long, he’s outgrown most of his wardrobe, and seeing his own reflection fills him with dread. The person staring back at him has become an unrecognizable stranger, constantly reminding him of his failures and everything he hates about himself. As his body continues to expand without consent, Cas’s self-esteem suffers a devastating blow. Consumed by a profound sadness and despair, he withdraws completely, unable to face his dad, let alone anyone else.

Despite all of this, Dean refuses to give up on their friendship. When Cas stops answering his calls, Dean knows something is wrong. So, armed with the spare house key given to him for emergencies, he takes matters into his own hands. Showing up uninvited, Dean forces his way into Cas’s personal space. Ignoring how much his friend has changed, Dean snuggles beside Cas under the covers of his bed. They lay together in the darkness, not saying a word, every day after school for a week.

Eventually, when Cas does find his voice enough to speak, Dean listens without judgment, trying to understand the depths of his friends' grief. After another week of hiding in bed, Dean gently suggests they go outside. 

“Because it’s springtime out there, Cas and all the flowers and birds are doing their thing, and I know how much you used to enjoy it.”

"I don't know, Dean,” Cas says, unsure if he's ready to face the outside world again.

Dean looks at Cas reassuringly and says, "Hey man, I get it. Shit can be scary, but I'll be right there with you. Who knows, maybe trying something new will make you feel better."

After a moment of contemplation, Cas nods slowly. "Okay, but please understand if I need to return inside."

With Dean by his side, Cas finds the strength to leave his room and go for short walks outside. Cas notices a subtle change in his mood with each step they take. The fresh air and gentle movement help him feel a little better each day. 

[storytellersumayyah]

and grief said goodbye

tw: implied disordered eating, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, negative self image

Tristan could count on his hands the number of real conversations he’d had with his parents since the fire. Most of them had taken place after he walked away from Camilla- and even just thinking of her name made his heart hurt- because they had wanted to know everything. They had accused him of being involved, and that had stung more than anything else. Once they went back to the manor, the conversations centred on his new school.

And after he started, they stopped. Almost completely.

He left before his parents showed their faces. When he returned, he went straight to his room to do his work, and he never saw them in the living room working together. They would eat dinner together, but words were never exchanged. And their seats had changed. Victoria sat at the head. James on her right. Tristan two seats away. He knew why they still sat together. No matter how much his parents hated him for what he served as a reminder of, they would not let him get physically worse.

It made him angrier than if they had just left.

When they did speak, it was short sentences. Brief questions. One word answers. Victoria never called him by his name. James never called him Laurie. He never reminded them of what they were supposed to be for him. His father, who had once been grateful that Tristan was there, if only so his wife remembered they were married, seemed like he couldn’t wait for Tristan to leave. His mother didn’t even acknowledge his presence enough to despise it.

He didn’t ask them for anything. When he got an email saying his bank statement was ready to view, he took a deep breath and opened it. The balance had increased. The money was from James. Not Victoria.

He didn’t ask for anything because he would not be given it, and everything he needed, he worked out himself.

But there was something he couldn’t do alone. No matter how many hours he spent trawling the internet, no matter how much research he did, he couldn’t find the information. Anywhere. It was like the details had been wiped. For all he knew, they probably had.

He needed to ask.

So he waited. Until his mother switched on him again. Until his father called him Laurie. Until they asked what the letter had said. Until they told him they had filled in the documents for his college loans. Until they did something. But they didn’t.

He had stared death in the eye once and he had lived.

Maybe he could do it again.

“I need to talk to Mr Carter,” he announced at dinner.

Both his parents stopped eating.

“No,” James said, completely flat.

“It’s important.”

“I don’t care how important it is, we are not communicating with that man ever again,” Victoria snapped. She hadn’t recovered. She blamed Mr Carter for what happened more than she blamed Camilla. In her eyes, Camilla was just a girl. Mr Carter had encouraged and aided her project and nothing would undo that. Not even the testimony he had delivered in front of everyone who mattered, vouching for them.

“I need him.”

“You don’t,” James said. It was sharper. Almost like he knew what Mr Carter had been to his son.

But Tristan did. Mr Carter told him that he’d taken certain information from everyone’s files before they physical ones were destroyed in the fire and the digital ones as a result of the closure. He said if there was ever anything they needed, he would tell them.

He had sent the photographs taken at the dance a few months after Christmas. Tristan had hidden them from his parents. He’d told himself he would destroy them, but someone had captured the moment Camilla lit up as she told him how things had changed. And in that photo, he was smiling.

That was the version of them he wanted to remember. So he kept them all.

“I need him to tell Camilla-“

“You will not mention that girl if you want to stay here,” Victoria cut in.

“Mom. Please. Just this once. I just- I need him to tell her, I need him to try and tell her that I was wrong. That it was never her fault. And I shouldn’t have said it was. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t because she is good and she is loving and I forgive her for what happened because my actions were not her fault and she needs to let go of the fear because it doesn’t deserve and-“ he took a deep breath.

“Tristan?” James kept his voice level.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I need her to know. Please.”

“Tristan,” Victoria said.

“Mom. Please. I will never bring either of them up again. Please.”

She didn’t reply.

“Dad,” he whispered, trying to remind his father of who they used to be.

“Tristan.” Victoria said his name again. Tristan hated it. His name felt like a death sentence. A prophecy he was doomed to fulfil. Sadness. That was his name.

“Please,” he tried, one last time.

“Just this once, I will allow it.”

He couldn’t believe her. “What? Why?”

“Because you need it. Because Camilla does as well. Because that is a heavy thing to carry. Because you have forgiven yourself, and you have forgiven her, and she deserves to know. Because nobody deserves to feel guilty or ashamed when they did the best they could,” Victoria said, and she looked at James as she gave her final reason. James looked down. Tristan knew they were both thinking of the summer, and sentences they couldn’t take back.

“Because you are our son. And this is the only thing you have asked us for since you came back,” James added.

Even though the manor was not home, and even though it wasn’t enough to make up for any of their mistakes, Tristan smiled.

And in that moment, grief wandered out of his room.

Two weeks later, and an ocean away, Camilla unlocked the front door to her first and real home with a deep sigh. Things at school were still tense and she was growing tired of it. She hadn’t been able to warn anyone she was returning, which had led to a mix of reactions, but Ari was trying her best, even as she kept him at arms length.

She’d broken him once. She wouldn’t do it again. Not after Tristan.

But there was no time to think of Tristan. Her A-Levels were just around the corner (well, they were a few months away, but same difference) and she needed Cambridge more than they needed her. Which meant meeting her grade requirements as a bare minimum.

She was going to go straight to her room, but then her mother called her from the living room. She had been so caught up in wondering what had happened to Tristan- she sometimes wished she had his number, but it would’ve killed her if he’d blocked it so perhaps it was for the best- that she hadn’t even noticed the pair of shoes next to hers.

She went into the living room. Her mum was sitting on the sofa, phone in her hands.

“Hey mama.”

“How was school?” She asked, almost nervously.

Camilla shrugged, awkwardly standing in the doorway. Her parents had forgiven her for her role to play in Tristan’s downfall. They had forgiven her for her role to play in the destruction that was caused. She would forever be grateful that they didn’t hate her, and forever scared that she would never be good enough to make them forget.

“I received a message today. From Mr Carter.”

Everything around her froze. Mr Carter had helped her. He had wiped away the tears that spilt on her eighteenth birthday. He had read her personal statement and had faith in her and told Tristan to run and let her slip away. But he had also broken her. She had cried the first time Mr Kennedy told her it was okay she got something so easy wrong because she was convinced he would call her stupid. He had knelt down before her and the image still terrified her.

She never wanted to hear from him again. The photo of her and Tristan, both realising they could be soft and accept who they were, was tucked away in her room, but that was the only thing from him she would keep. All the lessons he taught, all the lies he told, she would forget.

“What did he say?”

“Tristan-“ and that name still hurt but she couldn’t let her mother know how much they had meant to each other so she just kept her face as neutral as she could, which wasn’t very but it had to be enough.

Her mother wasn’t continuing.

“Tristan?”

“I don’t understand what it means. But Mr Carter said that Tristan needs you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and it was never your fault. He said he crossed a line when he told you it was and he’s sorry.”

Camilla did something she hadn’t done in what felt like a lifetime.

She cried in front of her mother.

She couldn’t help it. But she had been carrying the secret since she returned. Her parents hadn’t heard the conversation. Jonathan and Adelaide had assumed he was acting on pure emotion, but Camilla had heard the things he wasn’t saying. She had heard the way it was more than just a way to hurt her. She had heard the belief.

To know it was false, that he hadn’t meant it, that it was never real, convinced her that she could be good again. She could be soft. She could move on.

And so could he.

But then her mother did something that she hadn’t done in a lifetime either.

She stood up, and she walked over to her daughter.

And she hugged her.

And she didn’t let go, even as Camilla’s knees gave out because of the pure relief she was filled with.

“Come on babu. Just let it go. It’s okay.”

She didn’t bother wiping the tears away. Camilla needed them.

When she calmed down enough to talk, she sighed and pulled away slightly. “Can you tell him I said thank you?”

Her mother’s initial review of Mr Carter had been glowing, but when Camilla accidentally let slip that he had called her a stupid girl, she became his biggest hater. So it was a long shot, but she nodded and Camilla smiled.

It was the first real one since they’d come back, and for her mother, it was like watching her baby’s milestone all over again.

“Do you see what this means? Tristan has forgiven himself. He has forgiven you. Your father and I have forgiven you too. All that is left is for you to forgive yourself. You are allowed to do that Camilla. I promise.”

Camilla nodded. “I know I can.”

And for once, she wasn’t lying. She forgave herself, on the floor of her living room. In the original uniform she was meant to wear. With her mother, in her shalwar kameez because she didn’t let anyone take anything from her, hugging her.

And in that moment, grief walked out her front door.

-

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[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Dec 3rd

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1. I’m looking for a specific fic. It’s was on ao3. It’s book cannon compliant but from LWJ perspective. It’s less than 15 chapters (I think 11 is the number but I’m only 60% sure on that) (unless they’ve added more for the special chapters).

Thank you for the work you do ❤️💙 @smnthncl

FOUND? 🔒 The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) might be this one, although it has more chapters than mentioned

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2. Hi! I recently noticed one of the fics I had bookmarked has been deleted and I, foolishly, had not downloaded it! I suppose i was hopeful someone might have a copy, if the author is okay with it. (Though if I recall, it was either an orphaned work or by Anonymous, so not sure how that would work!)

It was a fic where wwx is an artist and lwj is a famous musician. He commissions art from wwx for his album and then hires wwx to give his son, lan yuan, art lessons at his home on this huge CR compound kind of thing. They cook for each other and lwj writes a song for him and they fall in love! (I think there was a small sequel about food too.)

The name of the fic is escaping me entirely! If anyone has copies they are willing to share, I would much appreciate it. @annerbhp

FOUND? I believe #2 might be 'light travels faster than sound' (Anonymous). It's been deleted but it's on the wayback machine (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328495?view_full_work=true&view_adult=true) The sequel about food's also there too (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110269?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true)

Number 2 is definitely “light travels faster than sound” by Fruitys (now deleted) - I dl’d it when I read it but if you would like options that have the same vibes I can recommend: “paint smears on sunny days” tho lwj is not a musician, and “Sonata, Acrylic on Canvas” in which LWJ is a music student & WWX is an art student

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3. looking for a fic i read a while ago where wei wuxian is a voice actor/barista living in a little new england town and lan wangji is an author looking for inspiration who moves to the town with his little son lan yuan, and wei wuxian is disabled after an accident on a movie set when he was 16/17

FOUND? Ornaments Under the Stars by trippednfell (M, 62k, wangxian, Modern, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, the wangxian Hallmark Movie AU no one asked for, plot and title were randomly generated, Kidfic, Disabled Character, debilitating injury as substitute for missing golden core, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Guest starring Lan Zhan’s sky blue coat, The Coat deserves its own tag, disordered eating habits - not a major plot point, WIP)

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4. Hi! This is fic finder. A little warning, this fic is R-18. There was a war between the wen and lan (i dont remember if its with lan only or with other clan too). WWX is the wen general. Because of him, LXC's golden core gets crushed by WZL. That makes LWJ hates WWX. And then WRH died and WC (I dont remember if its WX or WC) send WWX and others as a "bed warmer" (Sex slave) to lan. But only WWX that are treated worse because he was suspected as WRH killer. LXC tells LWJ to be kind to WWX, but LWJ is consumed by his hatred did not kind to WWX. WWX is sent to the lan, bounded with talisman and some object insertion locked with talisman. I dont remember how, but the jin sent someone to lan to "teach" WWX to became a good bed warmer. It was cruel. At first LWJ ignored the cruelness because of his ignorance but after he knows, he put stop of that. I think the wen invite the lans ro attend something to qishan. Thats all i think. I honestly dont remember what tag i used to find this fic in the past. Thanks @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND!🔒Captive Prince by Aquadrazi (E, 19k, WangXian, LXC/JGY, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Angst, Slow Burn, Implied Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Torture, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Sexual Slavery, Bondage, Dom/sub, Top JGY, Top LWJ, Bottom LXC, Bottom WWX, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Crack, Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe, Smut, Shameless Smut, Sex Magic, Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, WangXian Endgame, Hurt/Comfort)

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5. Hi! Can you help find this fic for me? All i remember is a scene, lan zhan is wandering the world and when he arrives back home, lan xichen is waiting at the gates and lz thinking something like ' my brother has aged' he has white hairs etc. But lan zhan didn't change, didn't age a day, may be immortal?

Thank you so much💙

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6. Hey if you really don't mind, I have a favor to ask! Some trying ro fina a banger fic tht I cannot remember the name of foe the life of me. O read a lot of fics so it's a struggle. It's about Wei Wuxian being disowned by the Jiangs in the modern day bc he started dating lwj on a bet (jc bet that lwj would say yes if he asked him out and wwx was like "no way" And so he did and lwj said yes ofc) they then turn into boyfriends and jin zixun reveals to lwj that wwx only started dating him on a bet. This severely hurts lwj and angers everyone around him, to the point that madame yu just disowned wwx, leaving him no contact with anyone anymore. He becomes homeless and struggles a lot (including a traumatic dick sucking for money) and ends up being adopted by the Wens at a cafe. He stays there for 13 years, (while also attending classes I think) until lwj (who is now a famous musician) comes in for a tea 13 years later. They meet up, fall back in love, and clear up a lot of things and jc and jyl reconnect with wwx via lwj. It was a really sweet fic with feels and I need it in my veins.

FOUND? 💖 love wakes me by dea_liberty (E, 46k, WangXian, Happy Ending, Angst, Childhood Sweethearts, Misunderstandings, Famous LWJ, Coffee Shop Owner WWX, Finding each other again, Found Families, lots and lots of feelings, so many feelings, Stupid Grand Romantic Gestures)

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7. Hi! This is for the fic finder.

I'm looking for a modern au. It started in lxc's pov. Lxc & lwj were having dinner with lqr and they are supposed to not use their phone but lwj is getting constant calls which he doesn't receive and then lxc gets a call and it turns out to be wwx. He receives it and it turns out that wwx is at some sort of club where he was drugged and and he's stuck in the washroom while some man is banging at the door to try assault him. Lxc and lwj go to the club and I think lwj punches the the dude. Lxc also makes wwx puke up the drug by inducing vomiting with his fingers. Hope it helps @aristocraticteacup

FOUND! Please Let Me Take Care of You by incidentallyWangxian (G, 9k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Sexual Assault, ish, kinda assault, drugged WWX, big brother LXC, Nightmares, the horrifying ordeal of being known, Modern, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt WWX, crying WWX)

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8. looking for help finding a fic!

wangxian based on a tumblr post (a witch offers a challenge to retrieve a key from her cat's neck, only one person tries to make friends with the cat, the cat is the witch)

the yiling laozu has offered a challenge to retrieve a bell from a pet crow and become his partner/husband(?). lwj is in the area to look for something and makes friends with this crow. eventually the crow offers the bell, and lwj must decline because he's in love with wwx. eventually he takes the bell and the crow is revealed to be wwx.

FOUND? ❤️ chasing you by jaws_3 (T, 10k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, WWX isn't found au, Shapeshifting, Pining, Identity Porn)

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9. This is so helpful! I'm looking for a long modern AU oneshot where Wei Wuxian is a doctor, and he's just gotten off shift when he witnesses a car accident. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were in the car (LSZ's arm is broken, but they're both okay). WWX has been away for 10(?) years and has recently moved back to the area to work at the local hospital. I'm not sure if I've forgotten to bookmark it, or if it has been disappeared. Thank you!

FOUND? plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by fleurdeliser (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Non-Explicit References to Injuries and Death, References to Addiction, Doctors & Physicians, Falling In Love, soft romance, background 3zun, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by knight_tracer, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by exmanhater)

~*~

10. Hello, hope you're all having a good day and thank you for your time and this iniciative.

For the fic finder: I lost sight of a fic a long time ago, set during the study arc.

In the morning the disciples wake up to find their swords have been stolen and they blame Wei Wuxian for it since he is missing. Later, though, they find Wei Wuxian in the forest where he has been badly hurt by someone (YLLZ Wei Wuxian, I believe?).

FOUND? For the Dust and the Dirt by Nyxelestia (M, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Cloud recesses study Arc, It gets worse before it gets better, WWX Whump, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending)

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11. i am looking for a fic that i can’t find. it’s been a while since i read it but basically i remember wwx sends jiang chang on his way against his will so he can kill wen chao. the whole murder is very graphic and brutal but it was written very beautifully and it takes a lot out of wwx @sunshinepkjm-blog

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12. Hi I've been looking for two fics that should be on ao3

A) First has deity wangxian but they got seperated, WWX get captured by the Wens which maybe starts the Sunshot Campaign? and Jin Ling is like a spirit demigod thing that picked Jin Zixuan to be his father. I think Wen Popo and Wen Ning were also deities or some kind of nonhuman being and Wen Ning had something about eyes

B) Second one I only remember had a scene where WWX rides on his sword broomstick witch style and gets teased about it?

Thanks if you can find them <3 @nyankokoko

Hi hi I'm #12 from the Dec 3rd fic finder

Just letting you know that someone has found A)!! It was Black Jadeite by Tysis

I'm still looking for B) but I've realised that it have been a twitter/X thread fic so who knows where someone will stumble upon it but my search shall continue on!

Thank you mods and community members for all the help! <3

12A)

FOUND! Black Jadeite by Tysis (G, 27k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, 3zun, JC/NHS, Immortality, Fix-It of Sorts, LWJ Will Cause Problems On Purpose, Qishan Wen Catches a God, Patron God AU, LWJ Will Also Solve Problems On Accident, Non-Chronological, Everyone Lives, If it looks like character death, just wait a few hundred word and they’ll get better)

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13. Hiya! I have a ask for a finder! I'll try my best but I switched hyperfixations for a year so it is lost to my mind palace and before I was able to make a account on AO3. It's a fic that gives Firefly feels. Wwx is a consultant for looking at Resenment in ships and meets Lwj while he's supposed to go around in hiding.

The main thing I remember the most, stupidly enough, is the fact that the chapters open up with verses from songs. The song, as I started to listen to it religiously, was Follow Me by Written By Wolves in one of the chapters. "You've spent your whole life living by every rule they gave you. Don't you think it's time that you cut out all the lies, boy" <- That was the lyrics. I know that the first part is complete, but it was going to be a series, and now I can't find it. I humbly ask for help!. @skylar-lei1634

FOUND! Follow Me by unbirthdaydance (T, 37k, WangXian, Science Fiction & Fantasy, magic cats, Ghost Hunters, Supernatural Elements, Secret Identity, Emperor LWJ, Royalty, Necromancy, Magic, YLLZ WWX, BAMF WWX, Spaceships, Flirting, Awkward Flirting, Familiars, Worst Fanboy XY)

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14. Love this blog! Usually my bookmarks don't fail me, but it has this time. Help! I'm trying to find a (very well known, I'm certain) Yilling Wei fic where wangxian build traditions and rituals of their own, and Yuan comes up with spinning as a symbol of turning a new leaf. The scene wangxian get married has everyone invited, including Zewu-jun and other sect leaders, spinning and all find it adorable. I know this is a really well-loved one but my search-fu is failing. Thank you in advance!!!

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15. Hello! I'm looking for a fic, it came out a while ago(over 2 years).

In it, the lans the nies and the jin (well, lxc nmj and jgy)are all united and LWJ is the emperor. They r at war with the jiang and WWX is one of the generals for the jiangs. He's really smart and clever and LWJ fell in love with him across the battle field bc of how he kept outsmarting his generals (the polycule). LWJ and WWX only met one time on the battle field and LWJ had his face hidden even though he was present as The Emperor.

Sometime down the line LWJ sends over a peace treaty saying they'd cease hostilities(or something like that) with the Jiang in exchange for wwx to come to the capital. Everyone assumes including wwx that this means hed be like a political prisoner and wwx decided he's just gonna go bc even though he's a super awesome general with several victories , the situation at lotus pier is still shitty with madam yu still hating his guts. So he accepts the proposal and heads out in the dead of night only there's factions(?) Of people that keep trying to kill him to prevent him from meeting up where he's supposed to(the letter said to be by a specific bridge by a certain date).

Little does he know that LWJ actually wants to marry him and make wwx his empress, so bc he's a simp he left to go wait at the bridge in disguise(reg lwj not emperor lwj) and he brought a lot of stuff that could be used to make wwx s trip to the capital easier(like a tea pot etc). Lwj sees fire in the distance and rightly assumes somethings gone wrong and goes to investigate.

Its people who r using wwxs battle strategies against him(I think it was called the gauntlet or something) but in the fic it was really funny bc the ambushers set the forest on fire and wwx and some of his troops who followed him in secret to help him bc loyalty keep being like "but its raining?!?!"

I think wwx gets shot at one point and his troops hand him off to lwj to get him outta there bc they r all exhausted from running around trying to avoid dying.

Lwj is all mushy on the inside bc he gets to hold wwx, but wwx doesn't know who he is(I think he thinks lwj is like, the emperors personal guard sent to retrieve wwx?) and they r trying to get back over to lan territory to avoid getting killed and wwx is like "I doubt it'll stop once we cross the border, it's probably people on both sides who want to keep the war going and to do that they will want to sabotage me getting to the emperor who's just gonna hold me hostage." And lwj is like "the emperor wouldn't do that" and wwx is like "well ofcourse you'd say that u swore loyalty to him."

I remember early in the fic nmj was talking about how awesome wwx was bc nmj had these elephants he set onto the field and wwx just ordered his troops to spread out so they'd go in between the space between the war elephants. And nmj was like "that was some cool shit no lie"

Any and all help is appreciated with finding this fic, thank u so much!! @hilariousseagoat

FOUND! Veil by a_single_step (Not Rated, 96k, WangXian, WIP, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, War, General WWX, Emperor LWJ, Romance, Angst, Falling In Love, Pining LWJ, Misunderstandings, WWX doing his best, Sweet, Fluff and Humor) sounds like this fic especially the elephant part. It hasn’t updated in four year tho (´；ω；`)

~*~

16. Hi! I am looking for two stories:

A) The first is a modern AU, no magic. WWX is in the process of adopting A-Yuan and never mentions this to any coworkers, so come time for the summer company picnic, he decides (maybe prompted by NHS??) that the only thing to do is gas light all his coworkers that he has absolutely had a child all along. LWJ then returns the favor by speed running ‘pining from a distance’ to ‘in a committed relationship, next Tuesday is our wedding anniversary.’

B) The second is much less clearly remembered. AU of canon. LWJ meets WWX on a night hunt (I think on a farm??). LWJ was too young to have participated in the war and therefore doesn’t know WWX is the Yiling Patriarch, since LXC was the Lan who fought the war. The Burial Mounds Settlement is more established when the fic starts.

Thanks for all your hard work!!! @agedsolarwhisk

16A)

FOUND! Let’s Play Pretend and Live Our Lives by Tassos (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern, On Purpose Baby Aquisition, Accidental Husband Aquisition, Idiots in Love, WWX Has Self Esteem Issues, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, Light Angst, the Lans and Jiangs make an appearance, NHS Gives Great Advice, Pining, Getting Together)

16B)

NOT FOUND! Awaiting Your Return by Karmiya (E, 126k, WangXian, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, the opposite of slow burn, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Age Difference, discussions of wwx's canonical abusive childhood)

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17. Hiii. Thank you so much for your time. So i definitely have this fic downloaded but I’ve lost it amidst hundreds of downloaded books. So all I remember is that LWJ is an omega, he has to look for a mate. WWX is the demon? If yiling Patriarch and the two are close as in he came in for tea lan Zhan pours him tea etc think WWX is dark in this fic, all i remember is him pushing lan Zhan against a tree and taking a bit if advantage and lan Zhan obviously liked it. He says marry me somewhere as well @ruyipavillion

FOUND? Sanctuary by lunarvelle (E, 153k, WangXian, WIP, A/B/O, Bottom LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Demon WWX, Intersex LWJ, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Feminization, Pack Dynamics, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, Breastfeeding, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink) maybe? it's been a while since i've read it, so i'm not sure, but it sounds similar

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18. Hi! This is for fic finder. Its omega wwx. Set in burual settlement days. WQ is omega too. There are pregnant wen remnant. She, WWX, and WQ bonding together. She asked wwx that if she didnt survive he will raised the child. There are childbirth but the woman not survived. That baby is a-yuan. WQ and WWX takes turn taking care a yuan. Between the two, WWX produced milk that WQ says an omega sympathy if i remember correctly. Thats all i can remember. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! The Unrestrained Love by orphan_account (T, 60k, WangXian, LXC/JGY, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LXC, Omega JGY, Alpha LXC)

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19. Hi! My gosh I've never done this before so I hope I'm doing it right but I am desperate?? I'm searching for a very specific wangxian fic that had Wangxian as established couple, married even I think, and Wwx was contemplating what to wear to some sort of event (i think it was a conference of some sort) and because he wasn't happy with his own robes he chose to wear lwjs robes and when he went in lwj had heart eyes and it was all really cute and incredibly well written (also it wasn't the one where lwj gave him his own gusu robes, I know that one!!) Pls pls help?

Much thanks for being a lifesaver anyway! @yes-i-guess-nevertheless

FOUND! Lord of Joyous Flowers by stiltonbasket (G, 2k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Married WangXian, Wardrobe malfunctions, or the one where WWX has a closet full of clothes but nothing to wear, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, Parenthood, Introspection, Happy Ending)

~*~

20. im looking for a modern fic where wwx and a-yuan move in next ro lwj. wwx is running from the wens and goes by mo xuanyu. pretty sure that jiang cheng/wen qing is a side pairing, wq is working at a hispital and jc is looking for wwx?

FOUND? Stop and Stay by Fantazy_Eyeland7 (M, 98k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/JGY, SL/XXC, WIP, Blood and Violence, Hurt WWX, Kidnapping, Torture, WWX discovering weighted blankets, Pining LWJ, Modern, FBI Agent NMJ, Protective LWJ, Emotional Manipulation, Toxic JGY, not JGY friendly, LWJ learning how to communicate, WangXian have competence kinks, adopting children, Bad Parent YZY, Protective JYL, Protective JC, Protective NMJ, Past Child Abuse, Precious LSZ, Baby LJY, Warning: XY, Blind Character, slaps top of WWX: This bad boy can fit so much trauma inside, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everyone is ending up in well-needed therapy, Child Abandonment, Genius WWX, Obsessive XY, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Eventual Smut, Bad Parent JFM, Junior Quartet Dynamics, (As Babies!), Implied/Referenced Suicide, sort of a slow burn, but not really, because they KNOW, they just can’t, Good Uncle LQR, eventually)

~*~

[fatliberation]

oh wow im really interested about your review of glp-1 agonists study. can't waut to read it if you ever publish it!

also have you seen those studies about calorie deficit prolonging life in mice? i'vr been thinking for a while what to say to people that bring it up besides obvious "we are not mice and our metabolism is different, etc." i wonder if you have any thoughts on this topic

Thank you, it's basically one big summary of all of the studies I've been referencing on this blog but in formal paper mode! I will let y'all know when it's up on my ko-fi soon.

So, I just did some reading and the evidence for calorie restriction prolonging lifespan is not very strong, even in mice, so it's definitely not something that a human (or any other mammal) should take as fact. We also know that calorie restriction is the leading cause of eating disorders in humans and leads to weight cycling, which is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function.

Some quotes I pulled from two separate mice studies:

"In summary, our initial belief that the rate of aging is directly proportional to caloric intake (with obvious limits at the higher and lower ends of the spectrum) has now been shown to be incorrect. DR (Dietary Restriction) works through a variety of mechanisms, as evidenced by the fact that its pro longevity and pro health effects vary based on several modifiable study design factors including: the diet composition, age of onset, feeding regimens, and genetics and sex of the organism. The fact that nutrition influences aging in many animal models is nevertheless valuable, and given our incomplete understanding of aging itself, it continues to provide an avenue of investigation that is not even close to reaching its full potential."

"Despite repeated claims in the literature implying that ER (Energy Restriction) extends the life span of virtually all species (3), there is considerable evidence that this effect is not universal. ...In cohorts of mice derived from wild-caught ancestors, Harper et al. (7) did not observe a significant extension of life span following ER. Notably, the effect of ER on longevity of different strains of inbred mice is also selective. For instance, whereas the life spans of C57BL/6 and B6D2F1 mice are extended by ∼25–30% in response to a 40% decrease in energy intake, the same regimen has no demonstrable effect on the longevity of DBA/2 mice (8), suggesting that genetic background is a factor in determining the longevity extension effect of ER."

[bobalegsanji]

Masterlist 𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡

BobalegSanji

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Are you there? -> ‘’This didn’t happen.’’ ‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’ Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

Modern Zosan AU. Fluff/Angst. Words: 11,824.

Trigger Warnings: disordered eating, anxiety/panic attacks, depression, self-worth issues.

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Trust me -> Late night talks between a certain cook and a swordsman. Or, Sanji feels the need to learn more about Zoro after Thriller Bark. Or, Zoro needs to learn more about Sanji after Whole Cake Island

Zosan. Words: 7,806. Chapters: 2/2,

Trigger Warnings: mentions of anxiety.

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I've got you -> Sanji closes his eyes, leaning into the feeling of the warm hands on his face. ‘’Please…’’ he whispers, ‘’I… Please. Promise me you will if I ask.’’

Zosan. Words: 3,976. WCI spoilers!

Trigger Warnings: self-worth issues, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced childhood abuse

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Umakemenotwannadie -> Sanji just needs a little love in a world that couldn’t care less

Modern magic AU. Zosan. Chapters: 6/?.

Trigger Warnings: depression, substance abuse, implied drug addiction, past childhood abuse, panic/anxiety attacks

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Paranoid (again) -> Sanji can’t move. The arms around his neck keep him trapped in place. He can feel a wet spot on the side of his neck, but he can’t offer Nami any support right now. He’s too busy fighting back his own tears. 

Zosan. Modern AU. Words: 5,401.

Trigger Warnings: gender dysphoria, depression, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced to self-harm, substance abuse

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Don't fight that feeling -> Sanji's insecure about his dreams. Usopp reminds him it's not just his dream.

Sanuso. Words: 2,486

Trigger Warnings: anxiety, implied/referenced depression, self-harm

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Take me out of my mind -> Zoro thought he knew everything about Sanji. So why hadn’t he noticed Sanji slipping up? The answer is obvious. It swims around in Zoro’s thoughts, day and night, for the past few days. He had known. He had just hoped Sanji would be able to solve the problems himself. But as it turns out, Sanji couldn’t.

Modern Zosan au. Words: 2,910.

Trigger Warnings: suicide attempt (aftermath), substance abuse, drug abuse, refereces to depression

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Erstwhile (Bruce Wayne's Teenage Years)

by Forget_Me_Snowdrop “What do you mean Bs been ‘de-aged’?!” Tim’s voice chimed in his ear. “I mean he was here and now there’s an unconscious kid in his place!” The resemblance Bruce had to Damian trying on the batsuit was bordering on uncanny and it set confirmation in Dick’s mind that he had been correct with his assumption this was some sort of de-age situation. Or; While on patrol, Bruce got de-aged to his teenage self that had yet found the outlet which is Batman. It's up to his kids to get him back to his actual age; not without learning that the Bruce they know is so far different from the young Bruce they're with. Words: 2273, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Everyone Additional Tags: De-Aged Bruce Wayne, Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Background Case, Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Bruce Wayne, Teen Bruce Wayne, Young Bruce Wayne, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Acts Like a Sad Wet Cat, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, not beta read we die like Thomas and Martha Wayne, Emo Bruce Wayne, but not battinson, Batfamily (DCU), Metahuman Duke Thomas, Depressed Bruce Wayne, not every batfam member lives in the manor, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Bruce Wayne Whump, POV Third Person via https://ift.tt/LquTZ7n

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Three

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 14.9k

Release date: March 24, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: Now that Seokjin has agreed to come over and help you practice for your streams, you find there's a lot more you want to do with him than actually prepare for this stream.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety and panic attacks HEAVILY referenced in this chapter, familial verbal and emotional abuse that might be triggering to some (slamming of doors, manipulative behaviors), references to puberty, implied chubby/fat reader, references to disordered eating (not main characters), references to oral (f), mention of sub drop, Seokjin is STRONG and the king of consent, lots of little domestic moments idk let's hope I didn't forget anything

a/n: Ahh finally, I'm so sorry it took so long to get to you. I have been very busy in my little corner of reality so I haven't had a chance to really dive back in for a while. I hope you enjoy more of the backstory to the characters in this one, I found pulling away from the spicy bits a little necessary so I could learn more about my characters as they grow.

I'll be in South Korea these next few weeks for my birthday, so I might be mostly offline but I'll enjoy looking at your comments, tags, questions, etc, while I'm away! Thanks for your patience. Enjoy! -h

This, she thinks, is goodbye. Her body sprawled in the silk sheets of August’s chamber, head thrust back onto the plush pillows. Never again in her life did she think she would see the dark beams of his ceiling again, yet now, her legs bent and open for him, his lips eagerly suckling her inner thigh, she couldn’t imagine life any other way. 

How many times had she counted each knot in the wood above her, her eyes tracing the swirl and swell of the grain while August swirled the swell of her sex? Perfectly matched in this way, as if he were reading her like a map he’d crafted himself. He knew her. Knew all of her, how the heady moan leaving her throat now was a sign she was becoming impatient with his thorough ministrations. 

She dared to risk a glance down, only to see him watching her intently, devilishly choosing that moment to latch himself onto her, a wicked smirk flashing across his face as she elicited a hearty gasp. 

“August,” she breathed, instinctively tangling her fingers through his newly-raven hair, dyed dark now to comply with his family’s request. While his once-bleached locks were the definite sign of his rebellion, a sign that he would fight against the ruling state and their convoluted and asinine laws that prevented royalty from marrying a commoner, she admitted his natural hair suited him more. He looked less harsh this way, his delicate skin creamy and soft as she skimmed her fingertips across his cheek. 

“No,” he breathed into her sex, sending a delightful shiver down her spine. 

Something about the glint in his eye as he feasted upon her spelled out more than simple lust. No, she forbade herself to think that this was more than a parting gift, a transaction before she would be cast aside for his betrothed. 

“Please,” she begged, though she knew she was asking for many things in that request. Please end the hunger between her legs, please end his engagement. Please take her to bed tonight and tomorrow and every night after. Please love me. 

“Say my name,” he growled, sitting up to wipe his mouth with the back of his robe sleeve.

“August,” she called but he only chuckled darkly, the cool blue of the fabric cascading around him. 

 She felt so exposed. Here she was, completely naked, and yet he hadn’t even begun to undress. It felt cold, final, and sickening. Her eyes roved his body, looking for more skin, anything to keep her close to him at this moment, but he was so carefully tucked away. 

“August,” she said again and he shook his head. 

“That’s not my name,” he argued. 

Her eyebrows knit together, and she reached forward, needing now more than ever to touch him. She was drowning fast in the night, the blue robes sweeping over both their bodies as he leaned closer, finally letting her grip his forearm as she groped around. He was drifting from her in one way or another, his body a boat on the water that was capsizing her under his waves. 

“I–I can’t. I can’t see you. I–.” A rush of white hot panic surged into her throat, constricting her words. As she began drowning, August moved quickly, disrobing himself and pulling her into his embrace. She gasped for air as she wrenched out a heavy sob, her nipples stroking the soft hairs on his chest, yet she ignored the sensation instead for the thing she needed more: his heartbeat. 

There, in his chest, was the melodic thrum that sought to calm her erratic one, calling her home to him in the cold night air. 

“Breathe, Petal,” he commanded, and she felt a rush of air fall from her lungs as she remembered once more to do the most simple of human tendencies. His arms laced around her back, where the soft tracing of his fingers along her spine brought her back into herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried, a prick of tears falling despite her best efforts to appear unaffected. 

He hummed in response. 

“Stay with me,” he whispered, and she felt her joints loosen as she molded herself further into his embrace. 

“I want to,” she replied, voice unsteady. “Sugar, please just hold me.”

He melted into her, a pool of warmth overtaking him as he absorbed her nickname. He kissed her forehead, her temples, everywhere his mouth could spread some of the sweetness.

After long, she hummed a satisfied sound through her lips, and her hips began rocking against him. He laid her back down, his eyes searching hers before the corner of his mouth ticked into a smirk. 

“You with me?” he asked, his smirk becoming a full grin as she bucked further toward him, desperate and wanting. He was back, the ever-changing prince who within a blink of an eye could transform the room into his sensual paradise. 

August’s hand skimmed up her calf and back between her thighs, resting up against her heat. 

“August,” she panted, and he chuckled darkly, the scar over his eye almost glowing in the moonlight. 

“I told you that’s not my name,” he warned, sliding his fingers into her wet folds. 

“Seokjin,” you said, his name caught in your throat as he continued moving.

“Good girl,” he coaxed, two of his fingers covering the edges of your clit as he began rolling it under his touch. 

“Fuck.” 

The wooden beams were gone. Now it was the familiar white plaster that you often looked at, trying to remember what constellations were above during what season, though you could never see the stars anyway in this part of the city. 

Seokjin pulled himself up off the chamber bed, though the chamber was hazy, almost pixelated as you realized around you it was not the chamber of August and his beloved, but your small bedroom. 

“Focus,” he commanded, and your eyes flashed over to Seokjin, who was naked and sweaty, his chest flush like it was when you’d seen him before. His fingers roamed over your calf and he lifted you leg at an angle, exposing your pussy to the cool air. 

Seokjin licked his lips and began swirling his fingers around your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. 

“You gonna be good for me?” he asked and you moaned an affirmative as you felt the first of his fingers tip into you. 

“Nuh uh, use your words, Y/N.” 

You opened your mouth to beg but found no words could come out. He cocked his head, confused. Seokjin reached over to touch your face. You felt nothing. 

“What–”

The plop of the book hitting the floor jars you awake. At some point in reading, you must’ve dozed off, your world and the book world merging into a hot, overwhelming dream that has your heart racing. 

He’s in your mind again, Seokjin. And it really is all your fault. Because you’ve spent the rest of your weekend and the first half of this week texting him with a plan to put this After Dark stream into place, an idea that you hadn’t really thought through before proposing to him. 

You know you want this, to feel at ease in your body and confident to hold your own on streams. Especially since the option to quit is becoming less and less of an option. This week, your university confirmed your withdrawal, meaning that for the next few months you’ll be focusing on streaming and working more shifts at the restaurant to try and replenish your income for the summer term. 

And that also means you’ll be seeing Seokjin a lot more often. Your stomach does a tiny flip just thinking about it. 

Now with him being around you everywhere, all the time, your subconscious has been drifting to dreams of him, and every waking thought is somehow finding a way to wiggle him in. At the market this morning, you were walking through the produce section where you noticed a large pile of mangoes on sale. Does Seokjin like mangoes? you’d wondered. That shirt on the mannequin would look good on Seokjin. That dog looks like the one in the old picture in Seokjin’s office. What would Seokjin think about this recurring ad? 

It’s becoming relentless. So much so that you also find yourself asking him random questions to take the edge off. 

Me 1:47PM: Thoughts about fruit on pizza. 

Seokjin 1:50PM: Are you asking because we are having pizza later?

Me 1:51PM: No I was just wondering

Me 1:51PM: Unless you want that later? I can get us some 

Me 1:51PM: I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:51PM: No you will not! I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:53PM: Also depends on the kind of fruit

Seokjin 1:53PM: Never had blueberries on pizza. 

Seokjin 1:54PM: But I would maybe try it. Pineapple is fine though.

Seokjin 1:55PM: I’ll pick up the pizza on the way over. Be there at 6. 

Seokjin agreed to stop by today to do some roleplay exercises for you to practice before your stream later tonight. He thought it was important that you run through the full scale of situations you might be presented with so you could say no firmly but without risking losing your viewership, two things equally at odds with each other for you most of the time. 

You look for your phone in the mess of your couch cushions, assuming that at some point in your impromptu nap, it slunk down between the crack. Sure enough, you find it nestled between two cushions, the comfort of its weight in your hand dismissing some of the panic when you see it’s only 4:30. He hasn’t texted, which means he hasn’t canceled.

You remember from his stream last week that he maintains a tempered persona, never giving too much or too little away to his viewers. He’d exuded such self control. Is he always like that? 

You know he mostly keeps it together at work, but that amount of restraint shocks you. You’re always wondering what it is that will make him snap. Sure, you’ve seen him annoyed, or occasionally yelling at your coworkers, but never rageful. Never out of control. That just isn’t Seokjin. 

Determined to keep your hands busy while you wait for him to arrive, you busy yourself tidying, though your apartment is scarily clear because you’ve been frantically cleaning all day. You walk into the kitchen, a small, narrow room that has never been very welcoming as a cooking space. Your old, banged up fridge has dents from where the door has opened too quickly and rocketed into the oven handle, leaving a jagged, metal scar on the surface.

When you’d first moved in, you didn’t understand how something could be so damaged, but within the first week, it became apparent how heavy and quickly the door swung into it, probably because the floors, and thus everything else, doesn’t sit exactly level in the space, meaning that everything that you bake comes out at an angle, and everything else always falls to one side of the pan, making things uneven. Every time you use your rolling pin, you have to place it on an oven mitt or else you risk it rolling into the large gap between the countertop and the wall. 

Your apartment is one that you’ve done your best to uplift. While your kitchen is somewhat of a hellhole, with a buzzing fluorescent light that sounds almost like it’s mocking you when you dare to cook anything in it, the rest of your space has some sense of charm to it. 

There’s a large window facing the back parking lot of the building, which some may find less exciting because it isn’t exuding some Instagram-worthy backdrop of urban living, but you benefit from the fact that there’s a large, undeveloped lot in your view, with some plum trees that will bloom in the next few weeks, and the soft chartreuse green that ushers in the early spring grasses is slowly starting to brighten in hue. 

Some summer nights, you crack your window and hear the loud chattering of cicadas and birds as they rustle through the trees, and it helps to distract from the usual traffic noises that ricochet off the other buildings around you. 

You have some small herbs growing on the windowsill, as well as some salvaged green onion ends you’d tossed into an empty yogurt pot with soil and let take off. A sad excuse for a dining table is propped against it with two mismatched chairs. 

An oversized, well-loved, brown couch you got for a steal from one of those local posting groups takes up a large chunk of your living room, which will probably have to be sawed in half to get out of your space if you ever move. It weighs a ton and you can’t even shuffle it into a better angle toward your television, which has resulted in one side of the couch being further worn-down and frumpy from the creases of you sitting in the same spot day after day. The other side usually houses a variety of character plushies and a large pink knit blanket you swaddle yourself in regularly. Today, everything is given a place, and the blanket is folded and resting on the back of the couch. 

The rest of your apartment is a collection of stuff: some mismatched bookshelves shoved into one corner with all your smutty reads and figurines, postcards and repurposed mailers you’ve collaged into some type of wall art, and Barry, your Big Mouth Bass that knows one song and one song only: “Take Me to the River”. 

Due to your lack of space in your cozy apartment, your desk and gaming set-up are in your room. During streams, you tote out a collapsible green screen to give yourself at least some privacy, but behind the screen is your bed you’ve cluttered with some throw pillows, a dresser whose drawers are so warped they don’t fully close, the nightstand which hides your collection of sex toys, and that’s about it. As the months have progressed, your schoolwork has moved from being the main event on the desk to now being crammed into the shallow drawers beneath. Beyond that, your PC and streaming supplies take up the rest of the space in your room. 

After fussing with everything for a whole ten minutes, you retreat from your bedroom, heading into the hellscape kitchen to stare at the groceries you’ve just bought. 

A jar of kimchi, some beets, and a comically large bag of carrots you impulse bought greet you. You sigh. Yes, this is what you’ll have to do to make time pass. Pulling the items from the fridge, you shuffle around to gather your cutting board from its slot next to the microwave, and find your good knife set in the drawer. 

One of the conditions you were given upon being hired at the restaurant was to purchase your own set of knives. “It teaches you how to respect the tools before you. Having pride in your knives ensures you’ll serve food with pride,” Mr. Kim had told you. 

When you shared that knowledge with Seokjin he snorted. “It ensures you’ll not damage our own knives that he’s too cheap to replace is what he means.” 

Regardless, you now own a decent quality set of cutting knives, perfect for what you need them for. You scrub and lightly peel the carrots to trim away the dirt and uneven shapes adorning the outside.

Then, you begin your setup, placing your cutting board with a kitchen towel near the end to catch any rollaway carrots you’re bound to encounter during your task. You snag a large bowl, a rubber jar grip to keep the cutting board in place, and your Chef’s knife from your knife set. You chop up the kimchi and beets, doing a tiny bit of prep by cutting those for later in the week. Then, you begin with the carrots. 

You pull from the washed pile and grip your knife, and remember what Seokjin taught you: cut the rounded edge off the carrot so it sits flat on the board. You slice again, then again, stacking the pieces before cutting in the next direction until a pile of neat matchsticks lay before you. 

No chaos erupting in the kitchen, no pieces flinging to the floor or a semi-concussion. Just you, the yellow glow of the humming light, and your carrots. You begin the next one. Then again. It’s almost addicting, like the affirmation that you are capable of this, of anything, has started to warm something inside of you. 

When was the last time you felt this confident and assured? Felt like you were growing in the right direction? In school, you were used to doing fairly well and understanding the material, but this is different somehow. This is you seeing the results as they pile higher into the bowl. You reach for another and another, washing the rest of the carrots and scrubbing them before continuing. Your hands are now properly stained, the beet juice, gochugaru, and carrot juice making your hands look like you are bleeding, but you don’t care. The ache from your grip, the loud thumping at the door, they don’t mean anything in this moment when it’s you feeling the give of the vegetable as it splits into finer pieces. 

“Y/N?!! HELLO ARE YOU OKAY?” 

A familiar voice bellows from the hall, another sharp thunk hitting the metal door. Seokjin. 

Your eyes rip to the clock on the oven. It’s already five minutes past six. You’ve been cutting carrots for about an hour. 

Hastily, you rinse your hands, ignoring the sting as the cold water spurts from the faucet. You grab the kitchen towel off the oven handle, and rush to the door.

You barely have it unlocked before Seokjin barges in, two large pizza boxes and a six pack of beer in his hands as he steps over the threshold. He smells faintly of mint and eucalyptus. 

Seokjin whips in your direction, scanning his eyes over your face and down your body. 

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out as he fervently looks you up and down, gasping as he takes in your hands. “What happened?”

“What? No, no I’m fine!” You hold one hand up in his direction, taking the kitchen towel and rubbing it into your palm for good measure. “They’re stained. Um, I was cutting vegetables.”

His eyes flit to the direction of the kitchen, where the light is still on and buzzing, and you can just make out the chopping board on the counter. Now assured you’re not injured, Seokjin recovers, stepping out of his shoes and padding into the kitchen.

“Whoa, you really were going to town in here with the carrots weren’t you? I thought I could smell it on you.” 

Your cheeks flood with heat. “Well, you said I had to practice.” 

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head in amusement before holding up the six pack. “Uh, I brought beer. I don’t know if you like it or not but I feel like it goes really well with pizza.” 

You smile. “I’m not sure if getting me wasted is the solution to setting boundaries with my stream. Doesn’t alcohol lower your inhibitions?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you planning on finishing off this entire six pack by yourself and getting trashed? Much less beer that is…” He squints at the packaging. “...four percent alcohol?” 

You laugh. “No, I suppose not. Thank you.” You take the case from his hands and pluck two bottles from the cardboard before putting the rest in the fridge. Holding the cold bottle in your hands, you grimace. 

“What’s wrong? Do you not like this brand?” Seokjin asks. 

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. Um, I don’t really drink often so I don’t actually own a bottle opener.” 

Seokjin frowns and looks around your kitchen, grazing his hand along the chipped laminate counters. Then he takes the bottle in his hand and whacks it down on the counter edge on an angle. The cap pops off, a subtle wisp of fog puffing from the top. He smirks, proud. He gestures for you to hand him your bottle. 

With ease, he pops off the second cap and deposits it back into your hands. 

Your jaw hangs slack. “Wh-how did you do that?” you ask. 

He chuckles. “There’s a science to it, angles. I’m just glad I didn’t take a chunk of the counter with me. I’ve done that before.” 

“And you risked my counter top just now?” 

He snorts. “Come on, did anything happen? A little bit of trust would be nice, Y/N.” He glances at the giant bowl of cut carrots. “Well, you’ve certainly improved. What are you going to make with all those?” 

You pull your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t thought about it. Your silence seems to tip Seokjin off to that as well, because after a sip of beer, he sets his bottle on the back end of the counter, rolling up his sleeves and scooting over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Cooking,” he replies simply. “Do you have flour? Green onions?” 

You nod. “Okay, get those. I’ll also need some soybean paste if you have it, vegetable oil, salt, and sugar.” 

You furrow your brows. You know this recipe from the restaurant. “You’re making jeon? But, we already have pizza.” 

“We can have the pizza as an appetizer. Jeon will be the main course.”  

You laugh. “How much do you think I eat?” 

“Not much. But you see, I am very hungry.” Heat shoots to your core. You glance over at Seokjin, who is looking at you amused as he squeezes the carrots between his hands to wring out the excess juice.

You didn’t really notice before, but Seokjin looks effortlessly cool, a loose pink linen button down framing his broad shoulders. He’s left the top two buttons undone, exposing the white t-shirt he wears underneath. Lighter wash jeans cover his strong thighs. If a stranger ever passed him on the street, they might think he’s too cool for them, too serious or vain.

But, there are notes of him everywhere in this outfit that suggests the break in the persona. One of the buttons in the middle of his shirt has popped open, a few hairs on the back of his head are cowlicked out of place, and on his feet are a pair of neon green Chikorita Pokemon socks. You find it impossible to hide your amusement. 

“Ah, got it. Nice socks by the way,” you joke, trying to distract from the singing heat and close proximity. You can’t help but think about the last time you and Seokjin were in such confined spaces and how that ended up. “Didn’t know you were going to use your feet later to guide an airplane into landing.” 

“Well, I figured it was a necessary backup in case your hands weren’t bright enough.” He nods toward you. You laugh. 

“Touché.” 

You open your upper cabinet. The paper bag of flour sits on the middle shelf, which you usually climb onto the counter to reach, but with Seokjin in the kitchen, there’s even less space than usual. You stretch, lifting onto your tiptoes. Your fingertips brush the bag, but it’s not enough to move it. As you try to angle yourself better, you see two large hands come above yours, Seokjin easily grabbing the flour off the shelf to set down onto the counter. 

You feel his body heat behind you, his shirt brushing the small of your back from where your own rode up during your stretch, and a swell of goosebumps rise on your arms from the gentle tickle. 

“There,” Seokjin says softly into your ear, almost breathless. “Don’t want to have any more kitchen related incidents, do we?” Too soon, he moves away, his warmth, the subtle note of his cologne fading into the smell of the green onions he’s set next to your not-so-glorious prep space. 

Suddenly, he scoffs. You turn toward him. “What?”

“Really, Y/N? Have you learned nothing?” The heat in your core immediately dissipates, welcoming a familiar sour stroke of shame as you try to put together what you’ve missed. How did you fuck this up? What haven’t you learned? When you focus on what he’s pointing at, you realize he isn’t angry. He’s teasing you. 

Your knife is unsheathed on the cutting board, abandoned in your haste to let him in. “When are you ever going to learn basic kitchen safety?” he laughs. The prick of embarrassment dissolves, Seokjin’s laugh soothing the ache.

You smile and shrug. “In my defense, I didn’t have the time to put it away or in the sink because you were disturbing the peace by practically breaking my door down.” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Well excuse me for wanting to ensure your safety. Now where’s that soybean paste?”

Seokjin had been sitting on, or practically in your couch for the last twenty minutes as you ran through various scenarios and questions you were likely to experience while streaming. Your old couch was comfy, but as you’d practiced longer, he felt he was shrinking, the cushions settling further and further down. That, he thought, was probably going to hurt to climb out when the time came. 

Despite the size and outdated condition your apartment was in, he was fascinated with how you’d chosen to decorate it, as if everything had its own place. You had an impressive collection of colorful books on a bookshelf, framed in with little knick-knacks and figurines of your favorite characters or collectibles. One large sunny window was decorated with stickers that acted as prisms, sending rainbow beams across your floor at a certain point in the day. A photo of a very young you and two people he assumed were your parents leaning against a guard rail over a canyon was framed and hung next to a giant plastic fish. 

No, you didn’t have much. It was clear you’d thrifted or trash picked most of the furniture in your apartment, with the exception of your computer setup. You’d taken him into your bedroom to show him what system you used, how you’d built your system based on the specifications of your mod, who Seokjin now knew, was also your best friend Wonwoo. 

But Seokjin couldn’t help but revel in how well cared for and cozy this small place was, so different from the cold floors of his own apartment. It reminded him of the tiny place he used to live in with his parents. It was familiar, safe. 

When he’d come in, he did worry something was wrong. You weren’t one to not answer, attentive in the restaurant to everyone, often whipping your head in someone’s direction the second you heard the first sound of your name slip through someone’s lips. When you didn’t answer, he’d wondered if you’d been injured or worse. As much as he tried not to judge your building, he was a little concerned about the safety precautions put in place. He’d walked straight in, no lock on the front door, no door man. Everyone’s names were blatantly listed on their mailboxes. If anyone wanted to find you, it wouldn’t be hard to do so. 

But you were fine, and the acrid worry that had bloomed in him during those five minutes of you not answering had dissolved once he saw your bright smile, and the even brighter colored stains on your hands. 

They were still blotchy, though a few runs under the sink with dish soap was helping them fade. As you feathered a hand through your hair, he found himself grinning. The fact that you had acquired a bulk bag of carrots and used them for practice was so endearing to him. He never doubted your dedication to work, but the fact that you were using the techniques he taught you in your kitchen had brightened something in Seokjin he hadn’t even known felt dark. 

And he also couldn’t ignore the sense of pride he had as you practically moaned into the jeon you two had made together, the crispy texture and roll of hot oil over your tongue invoking something in you Seokjin couldn’t help but be drawn to. You loved to eat. It was one of the first things he noticed about you, and as creepy as it sounded, also what stoked those first wisps of attraction. 

You loved food the way he did, without care, or at least without care the way most people who he was raised around cared. No, you didn’t eat a lot, but when you did, you were all in, bare hands sticky after eating peaches, their juice dribbling down your chin and forearms, joyful hums when you bit into your favorite crunchy snacks from the convenience store. 

He remembered growing up the ways in which women, even his mother, were almost afraid of food, afraid of how they would spend hours in the kitchen making heaps of it, pounds of fresh kimchi, grilled fish, decadent soups with tofu and mushrooms and packets of ramyeon, and yet when it was time to eat, they were too busy too or suddenly not hungry, or they would eat a few bites and excuse themselves from the table to clean up. 

It was sad, really. Because Seokjin ate and ate fully, and maybe because he wasn’t a woman he didn’t need to worry about his body that way, or maybe because he always had some insane metabolism that didn’t impose weight like it did with others, but it never hit him the same. He loved food. 

And clearly so did you, delighted in the meal he gave you, even eliciting a groan as you washed down a bite with your beer. It was like you were grateful for every bite of food that ever entered your mouth.

“You were right. This does taste better together,” you said. He was practically beaming. 

He glanced down at the pile of jeon. They weren’t bad, but they were a little uneven. While cooking, he’d noticed that something was a bit off about your kitchen. Your oven and everything else were a bit titled, and it pooled the jeon batter toward one end, making them thicker on one side and harder to cook properly. Your fridge door also was dented, having the similar issue of the weight pushing things to one side. He made a mental note to shove some cardboard under the floor pegs later to help level the appliances. 

Your counter situation, though, he couldn’t help. You would just have to keep with your barricade at the end to avoid rolling. But you seemed to be savvy in how you solved the various erroneous features of your apartment, making the best of what you had. 

In fact, as Seokjin sat in the crook of your massive couch, he noticed why this side was so sunken; it was the only spot you could actually see the TV from this angle. He wondered if he could shuffle it a little bit more in a better view while you were streaming later, or if you would even notice. 

You hovered next to the couch, your bottom lip worried between your teeth. You were nervous about something. 

“What is it?” He asked. The time for your stream was growing nearer, and he’d promised he would stay for at least the first half, setting up his laptop in your living room. 

“What am I doing?” you groaned and flopped down on the floor, a frustrated wail muffling into the carpet. 

“Testing yourself and growing. Listen, Y/N, you know you don’t have to do this, but we’ve been over it daily at this point. You want more money and this is what you’ve decided is the most viable option. After-Dark type streams do make a lot more money, you want to exercise more freedom with yourself, do I need to go on?” 

You shook your head. Seokjin chuckled. 

“Okay, so–yah, sit up!” You bolted off the carpet and folded your legs underneath you. 

“So, you know I’m going to be out here if you need anything. If you need me, I’m just on the other side of that door. Also, we’ve been practicing, right?”

“I know, I just…I’m not like you. I’m not confident, I’m not really easygoing or likable like you are. I can’t dom–command a room or everyone’s attention with my charisma how you can. I’m worried that if I don’t give people what they ask for, they’re just going to leave.”

Seokjin scoffed. He knew that on the outside, in the context of work that you were used to seeing him in, he appeared in charge and control at all times. It was part of the job, to be well tempered and fair and even, maintain a sense of friendliness but firmness, it was common sense. But much of his advice today wasn’t coming from that version of him you knew. A lot of this was insight and experience he’d gained as Jin, who he needed to be to ensure he was meeting his tip goals, or needing to remind everyone he was the one in charge, not them. 

Even at work last week, when Seokjin needed to call the distributor because there was some issue with a shipment of produce, it was Jin he was channeling to make the call. If it were Seokjin, he would have been a sweaty, nervous mess. Jin was business, Jin was the one who laid down the law. Seokjin himself? 

He was the youngest Kim son, the one who, when his parents’ friends and family members thought he wasn’t listening, gossiped about. Why wasn’t he married? Didn’t he have that fiancée for a while? Oh she had a baby with another man? His boss? Well surely that has been long enough now, right? He had another girlfriend, or found some other salaryman career. At 30, it would be kind of sad if his life wasn’t going anywhere. 

And that’s where Seokjin was, after all. Single, a sex worker, or temporary restaurant manager. This morning he’d received a text in the family group chat from his brother with a photo of his nephew kissing his sister-in-law’s bump. He loved his nephew, he loved his brother and was happy for their little family. But he also felt hollow as he opened that picture, like some part of him knew he was never going to truly get to have that for himself. 

“Hey,” he said, and your eyes flitted from the floor back to him. “First of all, if they leave they leave, right? Those aren’t the people you want to be on your streams because their energy sucks and they’ll just keep asking more of you. Second,” he cleared his throat, “you are likable. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, having viewers and subscribers. There has to be a part of you that is genuine there, otherwise everyone will know you’re lying and move away from you. Don’t they say something about how all the best lies are rooted in truth?” 

“But I’m not trying to lie to them,” you said meekly. 

Seokjin internally kicked himself for saying that. Perhaps suggesting that you lie to everyone wasn’t the best move. 

“I know, I mean, that you don’t offer all of yourself, but offer the parts of you that you know are there that are stable. And for the rest of it, fake it until you make it. Until you can feel confident as a streamer, able to set boundaries. Pretend you’re someone else. The person you want to be.” he amended. 

Jin was some of the best parts of Seokjin. Maybe even better. Self-assured, knowledgeable about sex and sexuality in ways he hadn’t been when he was with Soon Yi, he could say no to things he’d never been able to say no to his boss about, and things he couldn’t say no to now because the restaurant wasn’t technically his. There were things he could do, ways he could slip some power in there or make decisions, but nothing was really his. Not the way streaming was. That was all for him. And while yes, his friends knew he did it and supported him in their own way (thankfully most of them did not tune in but on occasion Jungkook and Taehyung would hop on when completely wasted to goad him to “release the beast”), it was still a success that couldn’t be shared publicly, even though he didn’t really want to share it anyway, and didn’t really feel successful. 

“Is that what you did? Faked it until you made it? Until you were the person you wanted to be?” 

His blood ran cold. Were you reading his thoughts? Did you know? 

“W-what?” 

Oh god, what if you knew? Seokjin would rush out into the night and dig his own grave. Because if anyone else knew what he did, if his parents found out or his brother or you, he was sure he would become the worst parts of himself. A failure again. Once more someone to be quietly gossiped about in rooms when he was in full range of hearing what they had to say. He couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than you seeing him, your own boss, with a bright pink dildo shoved up his ass as he pandered to thousands of people with whimpers and cries. Especially when he just spent the better half of an hour telling you that you didn’t need to pander to anyone. 

Would you think less of him for it? Would you ask him why he was doing gay streaming of all things? His face flushed, probably turning incredibly red with embarrassment. 

“With the restaurant,” you said. 

He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat and coughed. 

“Y-yes,” he stammered. “What you see there. It’s not really me all the time. I’m not always all that confident. But I want to be.” 

You nodded quietly and stretched your arms over your head. “That makes sense,” you said as you began to pace. “Okay.” 

You still had another two hours before your stream was set to start, and Seokjin could tell you were still on edge. He took a deep breath when you turned away, letting the rush of air into his lungs help cool his face.  

“Seokjin?” you asked.

“Yeah?” 

“Will you stay until it’s over? I know it’ll be late, and it’s a big ask, but maybe we can eat leftover pizza and debrief?” 

He smiled. “Of course.” 

He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his night, and probably early morning if he was honest. Your streams could go well into the wee hours of the morning, and while tomorrow while opening he’d probably be kicking himself for this, right now he didn’t care about anything except the warm tug he felt in his chest as he imagined the two of you sitting on the floor with cold pizza and laughter at 3a.m. 

“Thank you. Also, do you think we could have another beer or something? I need to take the edge off. I know I’m overthinking it but I need something to distract me before this stream or I might not show up.” 

You didn’t wait for his permission, probably because you weren’t asking for it. You slid into the kitchen and back out with two more cold beers. 

“Will you show me how to open these again? I want to try.” 

Seokjin struggled a bit against the dip of your couch, but eventually found himself level and close to you, so close in fact that the soft scent of your shampoo was once again permeating his nostrils. 

You were intoxicating to him, honestly, and he found himself unable to help himself as he squeezed behind you in your tiny kitchen, inhaling partially into your hair as he walked you through the process. 

You fiddled with the bottle for a second, holding yourself at an awkward angle. 

“Like this?” 

If you did it at this angle, you would be sure to cause the beer to explode, the cap wouldn’t get enough traction to pop off easily. 

“Not unless you want to participate in a wet t-shirt contest,” he joked before he even realized how sexually charged that comment was. 

You inhaled a little sharply. 

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re a little stiff here.” Then, very carefully, he rested his hands onto your hips, gently maneuvering you so you were able to prop your arm up and out of his way so you wouldn’t elbow him in the ribs when you slammed the bottle down. 

He kind of hated himself when he had to let go of your waist. His fingers were tingling simply from brushing them along the seam of your shirt, from feeling the warm curve of your hip under his fingers. Why did his hands feel so at home on your body?

Your sharp movement pushed him out of his reverie as you launched the bottle down onto the counter top, the soft plink and your sparkling eyes confirming you were successful. 

That’s my girl, he thought. Only you weren’t his girl. You couldn’t be further from his. And as soon as he thought it, he also felt the soft ache in his chest knowing that you would probably never be his. Because you couldn’t. Because you were without a doubt too good for him, and Seokjin knew all that stood between you and the right guy was time. An opportunity. You walk into the right place some day and then boom, there he will be. 

He fucking hated that guy already. 

You popped the second cap from the bottle and turned around, shoving your body directly into him as you beamed with pride. “See! I did it!” You looked so adorable, your eyelashes long and fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

A smile cracked through his gloom. You were like a little sunbeam to him. 

“You did,” he acknowledged, and he took the bottle you offered, taking a swig. He waited for you to make the next move, to dislodge your body from the cramped corner of the kitchen, for the magnetic pull of your body to signal it was too close, too intimate so one of you would break away. 

But neither of you did. In fact you sighed and moved closer to him, forcing the small of Seokjin’s back to rest up against the handle bar of the oven. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but he didn’t dare move. 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked quietly after a while, staring down at the bottle. 

“Sure,” he responded. 

You nibbled your bottom lip then sighed again, unsure. He felt your warm exhale hit his forearms. Did you really not realize how close you were to him? The smell of you, even that tiny hit of beer breath, was starting to drive him insane. 

You shifted yourself even closer. 

“Um, it’s going to sound embarrassing to ask this but I just have to.” 

Your voice was low now, a tiny whisper coming out of you. Fuck, you were perfect. 

“Go ahead,” he whispered back, smirking. “I won’t judge you.”

“Okay, um. Are you…are you bi?” 

“Am I by what?” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably and pulled back slightly. You raised your eyebrows. 

“No, not by as in near, I mean bi as in like, you know, bisexual?” You shifted your gaze away, and then Seokjin felt the question sink in. 

He was such a fucking idiot. 

God, this is one of the most awkward interactions you’ve ever had in your life and you feel yourself getting hotter and more embarrassed by the second.

Standing in your tiny cramped kitchen, you decided now for no good reason was the best time to ask Seokjin if he’s bisexual. Or really if he’s gay. Because you need to know. Need answers. Or a confirmation that will help kill this crush for good because as of tonight? It’s much, much worse. 

Something about watching him cook earlier, specifically in your kitchen, did something to you. The way he touched your hips to show you how to do that beer opening trick, how he looked slumped into your couch, the way he hovered over your bookshelves and belongings with curiosity, and laughed hysterically over Barry once he pressed the button. 

He fits here. In your apartment. It isn’t just some stupid fantasy version of him you could imagine. He is real and beautiful and fits into this corner of your life like a perfect puzzle piece. 

And if he’s gay, if there’s no chance that he can give you even the fantasy of this, then it all needs to stop. But it’s also so unfair for you to ask this of him. What if he’s not out? What if you’re forcing him to come out and no one knows and all because your insatiable horniness led you to a gay streaming site where you found him now his livelihood and privacy are technically in jeopardy?

Fuck. You can’t do that to him. And suddenly you’re aware of what you just did, how uncool this was for you to just out and ask. Heat claws into your throat as you sit in this shock of silence, clamping down on your airway and leaving your voice in a reedy wheeze as you try to take back your inquiry.

“I–I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer! I’m out of line. Really, I shouldn’t have even asked. Jesus, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you splutter, heart beating erratically, a line of perspiration beginning to form at the back of your neck at an insane speed. How humiliating. 

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay. Relax. Breathe,” Seokjin says. You force a ragged inhale but find yourself coughing, gasping to try to find air in this room that is too small and a million degrees warmer. 

You are standing in the hallway outside of the bathroom, rasping for air into your lungs. Your mother has just come home from work, shouting about how you haven’t remembered to take the chicken out of the freezer or done any of the chores she’d asked you to while she was gone. 

The day has gotten away from you, a hot summer that is so oppressive no one even wants to go outside. You would get all she asked of you done and more before she returned home. The chicken would be thawed, you’d vacuum and mop the floors, would even wipe down the bathroom sink from all the hair she and your father left in it during his morning shave. 

And then you would go to your friend’s house tonight, for the sleepover you’ve been dreaming of, eat lots of candy that her father would bring home from work that yours never let you have. You could tell her about the boy whose parents own the convenience store at the end of the street, and how all summer you’ve been finding an excuse to run up to the shop with your allowance to get a pack of gum or snacks or a can of iced tea you would have to chug outside before you even walked home anyway. 

You start junior high this fall. Your period started this spring. Everything around you is changing. Your legs are stocky and getting fuller. Hair is starting to grow everywhere. Your breasts are no longer flat on your chest and while you know all of this is happening, you know why and what is going to happen, that doesn’t change how awful all this feels. Your baby fat isn’t baby fat anymore, and the oils of your skin, your hair, your smell? It all is changing so fast and you hate it. You want to hide. And at least having this boy down the street to talk to, Wonwoo, who makes you feel less like you want to crawl outside of yourself. 

Him, and all the books you’ve been reading. Ones where they’re older, girls who you’ll be like soon. Who go to school, and date and have families with problems just like your family has problems. Who run into the woods and fall in love with other families. Who find belonging. There’s comfort there, and that’s why despite all your promises to make the house clean for your mom this morning, you forgot. Because you’d fallen into the world of your book. 

And now, your mother has told you that you can’t go to your sleepover anymore. Can’t get away from the house and the heat and your body and the ongoing argument you know your parents are having about finances that they shout about when you’re in the shower and they think you can’t hear them. You can’t eat fun secret snacks or talk about boys or pretend for a second that this isn’t your life. Because it is.  

Your throat closes up, the dim lights of the hallway outside the bathroom feel like they’re flickering. 

“I told you. I reminded you multiple times! Now we don’t have dinner. Unless you’d like to think of something?” She strips off her stockings, balling them up in her fist. “Unless you want to go out there and buy some expensive meal for us tonight?” 

Shame. This is it in its purest form. How wrong you are for not helping. For spending the whole day in your fantasy world with your new friends, ones who aren’t real. All your mother asked for was such simple things, and yet you are unable to just do what she asks. 

“When your father gets home, you can tell him why there’s no dinner ready.” 

Hot tears sting your eyes and you gasp for air. Your father? If he’s having a hard day today, if his boss or his co-workers didn’t recognize him for that presentation he spent all those late nights at the dinner table preparing, you know how this will end. Your father is a fair man, but even he has his limits. 

And sometimes that means that the things you love, the things that you covet, they go missing. Precious dolls that you’ve had over the years have disappeared when you were being careless with them, leaving them around in the hallway for him to step on. Once,  you left your birthday gift from your aunt, a purple Skip-It, on the sidewalk during a Spring rain shower and when you went to bring it in, it had vanished. 

You’d found it in the garbage bin, the ankle loop and cord snapped into pieces. 

When your father gets home, he’ll go for your book. He knows just which one it is. You had started it last night and he asked you about it. 

You push off the wall of the hallway, swallowing the bile down your throat. You have to hide it, to take it somewhere. 

You want to leave. Your eyes dart around the room. Anywhere but here, you can’t let him see how much more embarrassing it is now that he knows you’re anxious. A lump in your throat continues to constrain the air. You can feel your pulse in it, pulling acid up from the depths of your stomach. 

You rip another breath from your chest and try to propel yourself across the room, across the universe, but your feet won’t budge. Your muscles are locked in this bump of panic, leaden and unyielding. 

Somewhere in the fuzziness, Seokjin has moved but already returned, and you feel a set of cool hands on your cheeks as he comes into focus, gently stroking behind your ears and saying something to you. 

“–ow that it’s hard but I need you to breathe, Y/N. Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

His face is concerned, and it twists your stomach even further. He shouldn’t be doing this. You should remember how to fucking breathe on your own. But then again, isn’t that why he’s here anyway? Because you can’t do shit on your own? Can’t hold boundaries, can’t stay in school or keep it together. Can’t live somewhere nicer where you don’t smell the stomach-turning stench of the sink’s old plumbing next to you, metallic and stale. And definitely can’t even remember how to mind your business or breathe like a person. 

You rush down the hall, into the living room, snapping the book off the couch. You shove it behind a cushion. 

Your father walks in the door, and from the look on his face, you can tell the presentation didn’t go well. 

“What’s all this?” he snaps, and gestures to the left-out vacuum and the bucket of water you’d gathered earlier. All the bubbles from the soap have long popped, leaving a heavy, sickening floral scent in the room from the solution. 

“I, oh–”

“Your daughter spent all day reading instead of doing her chores. So unless you have a McDonald’s hamburger in your briefcase, we have nothing for dinner.” Your mother interjects, huffing as she heads into your parents bedroom and slams the door behind her.  

Your father’s eyes narrow, and this is how it begins. He and your mother slamming, stomping, hitting, and crashing in every interaction they have with an inanimate object around you.

He chucks his suitcase onto the table of the small dining area, then whips open the fridge door a few feet away. 

“Y/N, come here.” 

You tiptoe in behind him, needing desperately to do the opposite of him, to show that you aren’t mad that they’re mad. That you understand exactly what you did wrong. 

But it doesn’t matter, does it? They’re going to show you anyway. He moves aside and you peer into the fridge. 

“What do you see in there?” he asks, restrained. 

“Um, some celery, lettuce, dressing, milk…”

He growls, indicating that this isn’t the right answer. You’re wrong again. “Food, Y/N. This is food. That your mother and I work hard to put on the table so you can sit around and read your books. Food that needs to be eaten. Do you understand?” 

You say nothing. You know the question is rhetorical. 

“So, when we ask so little of you to simply take the food out of the freezer or fridge and thaw it, how can it be so hard? Hm? Here let me show you.” 

He reaches in, and begins pulling and pulling the veggies, marinades, dressings, milk, eggs, cheeses and meats, and crowding the counter top. You’re frozen, unable to walk away, to ask him to stop. 

When he’s done, he looks at you. 

“See? Not so hard, huh? And if you were helpful to us, none of this would have happened. Honestly, your selfishness sometimes,” he says. “Now, go get me that book of yours. I think you know you haven’t earned it right now.” 

You should go peel it out from under the couch cushions. Should hand it to him, then put all the groceries back away, because you know he’s not going to do it with you here. You should apologize. Accept punishment.

But instead, you’re nauseous and shaking and sobbing. 

He waits expectedly. And then he shoves past you to your room, beginning to hunt through your clothes on the floor, under your bed. 

“Where is it Y/N?” 

You don’t follow him. Instead, you run. You grab the book from behind the cushion, shove your shoes onto your feet and run into the heat of the ending day with it in your hands, the heat from the sidewalk still boiling up underneath you. 

Your parents don’t run out the door or into the street behind you. They stay in your home, possibly putting it back together. But you don’t care. You run, until you see the light of the convenience store and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse. 

Inside the cool air, Wonwoo is helping his father place drinks from their crates into the refrigerator. His eyes are wide as you plow in. 

You have so much you want to tell him, so much worry in your chest. Your cheeks are hot and your body is sweaty. Nothing is coming out. Just the hum of the fridges, and Wonwoo’s father rushing to get his mother. 

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can’t do anything to answer, just stare at his soft face as you well up with tears. You shove the book toward him wordlessly. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asks again, and you inhale steeply but choke on the air. A bubble of saliva clods your tongue. 

“Please, take this. Hide it,” you urge. He holds his hands out and takes the book. 

“Um, okay. Tuck Everlasting, I’ve never read this one.” He looks back up at you and winces. 

“Hey, hey, breathe Y/N. You need to breathe.” 

Seokjin is standing in front of you, coaxing breaths from you, wasting his time after cooking you dinner like it’s something you deserve. Like you’re not just doing all of this anyway because you can’t control yourself to not have feelings for him. Tears singe your eyes and you gasp another shallow breath. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise I’m not mad.” Seokjin breaks through your thoughts, his voice gentle, and almost like he hears you in this silent exchange, some constant that is numbing this spiral. You feel yourself inhale a little more fully as you understand he’s not upset or annoyed. “Good, you’re doing good. Let’s breathe another breath, okay?” 

You can’t look away. Even if you wanted to, Seokjin’s touch is keeping you focused completely on him, his soft and kind eyes, his plush lips that he’s holding in a slight frown that won’t shake. One that you can tell is worry. 

“Another breath, sweetheart. Good, good girl. That’s really good, Y/N. Okay, keep doing that for a second okay?” One hand releases from your cheek, and you find yourself pressing harder into the other, needing him to touch you and keep guiding you back, needing that security of him. 

He doesn’t move it away, in fact he pushes himself closer, holds the weight of you in his palm tenderly, and then you see in your periphery what he moved to get: a glass of water. 

“I want you to take three small sips of this for me, okay? Slowly.” He holds the rim of the cup up to your lips, tilting it slightly. You open your mouth slightly, letting a trickle of cold water flood into the hot cavern of your mouth, extinguishing so much of the tight, fiery panic that moves through the rest of your body. 

You do as he says, sipping and swallowing slowly until he pulls the glass away and sets it down behind you. 

“You with me?” he whispers, and you breathe. 

“Yes,” you say. 

“Can I touch your arm?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking, so you knit your brow and gaze up at him, confused. 

“What?”

“Can I touch your arm? I want to move us out of the kitchen and into your bedroom if that’s okay?” His voice is still quiet, and you realize that the hum of the light is so loud it’s almost drowning him out, almost drowning you again. 

Your eyes flash wide and you nod. You see him relax a little, and slowly Seokjin untangles the web of your bodies away from the kitchen, into the cool air of your living room. Why is it so cold? 

Seokjin guides you through it, and through the doorway to your bedroom. Before you even realize it, he’s unbuttoning his pink shirt and draping it over you. 

“Is this okay? You’re shaking.” 

You go to tell him yes, of course it’s okay, and then notice your teeth are gritted tight from trying not to chatter. 

You take another breath. “Yes,” you squeak. 

He pulls down the duvet and gestures for you to sit. “I’m going to put this blanket on you so I can help you warm up.” You feel the soft, heavy weight and start to feel a little better. But without Seokjin holding you, tethering you back into your body, you feel like you might float away any second. You shoot him a panicked look and he seems to understand, drawing the blanket back so he is also swaddled in it, the two of you knee to knee as he pinches the blanket closed with his fist. 

“You can touch me if you’d like,” he says, and this, you realize, is what you need. 

You immediately shift forward, putting your face into his white t-shirt, inhaling that minty, fresh cologne he wears. You can feel his chest rising and falling slowly, evenly, and you match your breathing to his, hoping soon your heartbeat slows to the same rate. Your hands twist into his shirt but it’s not enough. You find one of his hands and take it, lacing your fingers together and resting them in your lap. 

The heaviness is nice, stabilizing, but you know you still need something more. 

“Seokjin?” Your voice sounds foreign to you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you hold me for a minute?” 

His hand untangles from yours and he moves to place it around your back, but with you two cross legged and facing each other, it’s an awkward embrace. 

“I’m sorry, this is such a weird position. If you’re okay with it, you can sit in my lap? If you want? And then I can just hold you for a second?” 

You nod and sit up, unfolding your legs and wiggling yourself up so you are on his lap. You wrap your legs around his back, then your arms. And then you feel his arms around you, his fingers lazily tracing the length of your spine. 

You feel yourself sinking deeper back into the safety of your body. 

You both sit like this for a long time. So long that you feel yourself starting to grow hazy and sleepy. Seokjin is warm and soft and so soothing. You feel like you’re untangling from a sharp web that has been trapping you for a long time. And when your alarm for your stream goes off, you turn off your phone. 

“You okay?” Seokjin asks and you huff out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for all the dramatics.” You slide yourself out of his grip and flop back onto your bed, propping yourself up on your elbow. 

“What do you mean? You weren’t being dramatic, Y/N, you had a panic attack.” 

“Yeah, over asking you a highly personal question I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for that too.” 

“I’m not-it’s-look. Panic attacks aren’t ever just one thing. It’s always a compounding of stress and anxiety and other thoughts and feelings. You just came across the one thought or feeling that forced everything to collapse. And I can guess based on how much you’re apologizing, it was probably you doing that shit inside and beating yourself up that knocked all the rest of this stuff down. I told you, I’m not mad. Or insulted that you asked.” 

He goes on. “Which, by the way, I’m not bi or gay. I’m very straight. But that’s not the point. The point is, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You asked me a question. I have a right to choose to answer it or not. So there’s your answer. And also, you are never dramatic to me. Panic attacks are fucking scary; you felt like you were dying, right?” 

You nod. “Drowning, yeah.” 

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, those things are no joke. But you came out on the other side of it.”

“Not without your help though. You seem like you know a lot about these when they happen. Do you get them too?” 

He flushes. “Uh, no, I don’t personally. My friend Yoongi has them sometimes. He taught me a lot about how to help him with them. The cold water trick really is from him. And then also when Soon Yi and I were together, she would have them, but those were a bit different.” He looks down at his hands. 

Soon Yi. So that’s her. The person Seokjin has often stopped himself talking about. The one who his parents would occasionally refer to as “that woman” during shifts when he wasn’t around. No one ever said her name, almost like she was some kind of curse and you always were curious why. You assumed she must be the devil incarnate the way his mother would sling a bunch of insults after she was mentioned, but the way Seokjin now says her name so casually, so personally, you aren’t entirely sure if he sees her that way. 

Parents usually carry a greater grudge than their child who was hurt. Your own father has told you on various occasions that the guy you dated for one summer in undergrad, who coincidentally is his barber’s nephew, will never be allowed in his house ever again. Forget the fact that there’s no reason he would be invited over in the first place. Whenever you’re catching up with your parents on the phone, if he has recently visited his barber, he’s sure to bring it up. “Scum is never allowed in my house! He will just drag his filth in with him!”

Thinking of your father and mother right now forces you to wince. Maybe it’s the freshness of these memories, of you realizing now that what happened to you that day as a child wasn’t you being dramatic, as they had insisted even after you’d gotten home. Everything had been put back into place when you’d returned after the sunset, even the bucket and vacuums put away. Your parents never apologized or talked about it again. 

And your friend, she didn’t talk to you after that either, claiming you were flaky and rude for blowing her off. 

Your father doesn’t even refer to your ex by name, similar to Seokjin’s mother. “That Woman”. “Scum”. If there was ever a name tied to these people, it’s clearly gone in the haze of whatever angry frenzy your parents carry. “Scum” also didn’t even do anything wrong. You broke things off with him, but because you came home crying after the breakup, now that is his legacy. 

But Seokjin’s mother, how she behaves, you’re not sure that it’s for the same reasons. You’ve seen firsthand how much she adores her children, and “adoration” is a word you aren’t so sure applies to your family.

Soon Yi, too, it’s clear she was not just a blip on the screen in Seokjin’s life. The hushed, angry chatter between his parents, the way his mother would often get so worked up she would start punching her shoulder and clicking her tongue, saying she needed to go sit down. That’s not a Scum-level relationship. You wonder how close she was to Seokjin. Closer than you two are becoming, clearly. 

“Soon Yi,” you repeat to yourself, still lost in the haze of putting things together.

“Um, my ex.” Seokjin says, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks as you realize he heard you. “We were engaged. For a while.” 

“Oh.”

You want to ask how long he means by a while? Did they break up right before you joined the restaurant? Or was this from many years ago? It’s odd in a way to think of how Seokjin has lived a completely different life from the time before you knew him. He loved someone, enough to marry them, to start a life together, to know she had panic attacks and how to help her. 

Did he place her in his lap the same way he did with you? Did he sit with her in the dull winter light of their bedroom and talk like this? 

He had to have. Why wouldn’t he? Your stomach dips. Were you under some impression that this thing you’re experiencing–the closeness of his body, the soft thrum of his heart, that tiny whistle in his throat that breaks through the room as he speaks–would be special?   

The dim light of the lamp on your bedside table makes the deep browns of his eyes look even darker, and he watches you as you stretch your legs out in front of you, your foot shifting a bit to rest up against his thigh. His eyes flicker toward it and then back to you.

“How, when did you guys break up? I didn’t know you were engaged,” you ask gently. He sighs, and then slumps a bit, the careful, rigid posture he was holding for so long finally loosening a bit with his exhale. He bends his knees and pulls his legs up, glancing to the other side of your bed. 

You pat the spot next to you, turning over so he knows it’s no imposition. 

And it’s not, not in the slightest. If you weren’t so fried and exhausted after that panic attack, your brain might try to imbue some innuendo into this moment, but for now, this is all you can do, and you want that ache in your stomach to go away. You want to feel like this is special. 

Seokjin flops down into the pile of oddball plushies and pillows next to you and you snort, smiling as he carefully tucks the plushie he smashed in his landing into his arms. 

“I’m sure my parents have talked about her enough times for you to know everything,” he scoffs. 

“Not really. I didn’t know her name. I just thought she was some girlfriend you had that she hated because she was keeping you away from her. You know, the same way your mother also says that the really old lady down the road who sells flowers keeps your dad away from her.”

He smirks at this, and his fingers rove over the marble eyes of the plushie. 

“My mother would blame the sun if it kept her family away from her. She’s been messaging the group chat nonstop for updates from my hyung’s wife about the pregnancy. And she’s supposed to be somewhere in Iceland right now on a cruise. Honestly I wish she would just enjoy herself.” 

“Well, she cares. About you especially. Which is maybe why she didn’t air all of your business to me when I was mopping the floors and she counted down the drawers. She just would say that I would be better than “That Woman” but I think she might think anyone would be better than her.” 

“She said that to you? Ugh, eomma.”

She did, one late night, when Seokjin left early for “something urgent”. His mother alleged that he was dating a secret new girlfriend that he kept under wraps. 

“Honestly, he acts as if I’m going to eat her alive or something. Tsk. That son of mine, both he and his brother are going to send me to an early grave. Behind my back like this when I’m getting older by the minute. Ever since he and that woman broke up, he shut down. I tried to set him up with someone and he kept saying no! That he would find someone. But if she was any better than the others, wouldn’t he have brought her around by now,” she’d said.  

She slammed some coins back into the register. You jumped at the sound. 

She sighed. “You know what he needs? Someone like you. Someone with vision! That woman never had any of that. So much more focused on status. You’re not like that Y/N. I can tell. And that’s exactly why I hired you. You can’t teach someone that as an adult. They either have it or don’t, and you. You’ve got exactly it.” 

You didn’t really know what “it” was, but you didn’t argue, and soon she moved on to complain about something else. 

Now, knowing Seokjin’s secret, you think you know where he went that night, and it definitely wasn’t to go hide in his lover’s house. Chances were, he was streaming. And that also would explain why he shut down on her so quickly. You can’t imagine Mrs. Kim’s reaction if she found out Seokjin was a gay cam streamer. Despite being straight.  

It dawns on you. You’d been so distracted with that panic attack that you forgot already that Seokjin is in fact interested in women. Solely. Enough to have been engaged to one. 

“But, back to your story,” you prod, trying to distract yourself from the fact that now none of this feels like just friends sharing. Seokjin hisses in some air as if he agrees. 

“Right. Well, Soon Yi and I were together really in college and on. We started dating really young. Just two kids. And then we just kind of stuck together? She and I were together for a long time before I got the nerve to propose. And then…” He trails off, his face now a deeper blush. Is he embarrassed? 

You lick your lips, ready to tell him he doesn’t have to share, but he waves his hand to quiet you. 

“She cheated on me. With my boss. We were in the midst of planning the wedding and everything. I was supposed to get this big promotion at the end of some large conferences. But, I don’t know. We had grown apart. Suddenly we didn’t see eye-to-eye on anything.”

Your jaw drops, caught on that larger detail. “She cheated on you with your boss? After all that time? God, Seokjin, I'm so sorry. That’s awful.”

He smiles and nods. “That’s not even the worst part,” he says. His smile grows bigger, like this is some huge joke. “She cheated on me multiple times with him while I was away. And I caught them. Uh, you know. On my dining room table when I came back early to surprise her. I did not get the promotion by the way. But, she actually has a baby, or I guess a toddler, with him now. I heard she’s pregnant again, they’re married. It’s all some surreal life. And now I’m here.” 

“Um, you’re right, it was worse than that.” You’re really not sure what to say. Seokjin’s becoming harder to read by the second, turning this conversation into some big joke when it’s not really funny to you on your end. Maybe he’s processed it enough by now, but based on how tightly he’s now squeezing your alpaca plushie, you would wager that he doesn’t really find it funny either. 

“Is this,” you take a breath. “Is this why the other night you said you were a failure? Because of what happened with Soon Yi?” 

“Partly. I mean, it’s not like I did too great of a job keeping her satisfied. She clearly found other ways to do that.” He laughs darkly. 

“That’s not how that works you know,” you say. His eyebrows lift. 

“What do you mean?”

“What you just said. Keeping her satisfied. Isn’t it the job of being a human to keep ourselves satisfied? Find things with meaning and joy? It’s not your fault that she chose to do that. To cheat on you, to not be honest when she started feeling differently. She could have told you at any point. Did she?” 

He sighs. “Not really, no. Soon Yi wasn’t great at communicating with me about things like that. For so long, we just knew what the other person needed. Because we’d been together since we were so young, we had come up with some other kind of language. And my friends, too, they were in on it. She was not always going to tell someone how she felt but she would show them. For Jungkook’s 21st birthday she threw him an “American Stereotype” themed birthday which he was always obsessing over from the videos. Bought a bunch of red solo cups, they played that Miley Cyrus song and bought a bunch of discounted Fourth of July partyware. She was one of us.”

Even now, despite everything, Seokjin is speaking so kindly about someone who hurt him. And honestly, it throws you. You are so used to the men you’ve been around talking so poorly of their exes that you didn’t know someone could experience such a negative thing and not immediately resort to extreme name calling. 

That’s just how good Seokjin is. Enough to not be mad at you for asking questions, for panicking. Enough to speak kindly about others even if it might be eating at him. 

“That doesn’t mean it was your fault though,” you stifle a yawn. He cocks an eyebrow. 

“Maybe we should shelve this conversation for another time,” he says. 

“No, no, I want to hear. I want to know all of it.”

“You were supposed to start your scheduled stream an hour ago.” 

“Change of plans. I’m not streaming tonight.”

“Do your subs know that?” 

“Don’t call them that. They’re subscribers not subs. Sub is something you do.”

Jesus. Please don’t let him cling to that. Please don’t let that give away that I know. 

“Pfft. Okay, do your subscribers know you’re not streaming anymore?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s created this distance on purpose and now the moment has passed. 

Fine, you’ll get more from him about this eventually. You need to understand how Soon Yi impacted him. You don’t really know why, but you can’t help but feel like knowing more might make you feel less uneasy about all of this. About you and Seokjin and what this could all maybe mean someday. 

“I can post about it,” you say softly and he nods. 

“That might be a good idea. You’ve had a big day. A big panic attack, you probably need some sleep.” 

Your stomach sinks at the idea that he might leave after this, and you’re still not sure you want to be alone. You chew your lip.“What I really need is some pizza,” you say. 

Seokjin smirks. “Good thing for you, I know exactly where we can find some.”  

“Thank you again for the pizza,” you said, nibbling on the edge of one crust. “I didn’t think I could be that hungry after eating so much earlier.”

Seokjin took another swig of beer, shrugging. “Well, you’ve had a big day, and you burned energy and probably calories earlier.” 

Your panic attack may have seemed to you like it was coming out of nowhere, but to Seokjin, it wasn’t. He had noticed your embarrassment the second after you asked him that question, saw you spiral inside yourself as you tried to huff air. He wasn’t sure what really triggered it, but he also knew he didn’t want to leave you after that. 

He wasn’t unfamiliar to them. Yes, Yoongi had his share, and it took a little while to learn what ways he could be soothed. Soon Yi’s were different, though. A lot more similar to yours. 

When they had started experimenting sexually, there would be times in which she would fall so quickly into panic, like she couldn’t give up control. And from that point on, sometimes she would spiral deeper, into some pit of shame where whatever they were doing, even if it wasn’t super kinky, led to these shaking, sub-drop-like breakdowns. They were more rare, but they did happen, especially earlier in their relationship. 

At the time, Seokjin didn’t understand what was going on, and neither did Soon Yi. Just that she sometimes would flip on him during foreplay when he would get a little more confident and dominant, or if he started falling into a scene that she had asked them to do, using the script the way she asked, it would happen anyway. Almost like she was fighting between what she wanted and who she expected herself to be. 

And that’s in a way how you seemed to be too. Maybe you weren’t like this sexually, and he would unpack that idea later. But in this intimate space of your home, it was like Seokjin was experiencing some type of whiplash as you went from being so uncomfortable about asking about his sexuality to you lying next to him in your bed talking about his ex. 

He wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. He understood that especially after a panic attack, people were desperate for closeness and intimacy, and whatever reaction he had to your panic, you felt soothed and safe with him. He was being let into your world little by little, even if you were fighting yourself to let it happen. 

He wanted that. He wanted this: you two eating cold pizza on the floor of your living room, you chewing happily and Seokjin warm and full of life watching you do it. 

You even let him make adjustments to your space, laughing and applauding him after he ripped some of the clean cardboard from one of the pizza boxes and made shims to prop up and balance your oven and fridge. He found if he scooted the couch slightly to the left and your entertainment system got turned a few inches, you could completely see the TV from anywhere on the couch. You dove to the other side almost immediately, whooping when you realized you wouldn’t have to strain yourself to see anymore. 

You were comfortable. He made you comfortable. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” you said, your hand caressing over the soft roll of your stomach to demonstrate how full you were. Then, a deep burp echoed into the room. Your eyes widened. “Oh, wow, sorry. Excuse me,” you said suppressing a chuckle. 

But Seokjin was already laughing, his body shaking at the sound. “So polite for someone who made that noise.” 

The tenseness in your shoulders fell and you gave in, laughing next to him. “Listen! It was good, and the carbonation of the beer is making me have to burp!” 

“Sure, sure. That’s what it is. You know I’ve seen those memes about how women don’t fart or burp or poop and I’m onto you! You have one strike. If you fart or shit I’m going to prove that meme false.” 

You scoff, tears leaking out the side of your eyes. “Well good thing for you, I will not deny those allegations. I don’t just poop, I shit.” 

Seokjin choked on his next sip of beer, spluttering some of it out of his nose. “Oh shit.” Tears flowed from his eyes from the sting, and he grasped for some napkins near the pizza. 

You weren’t much better off, coughing heavily into your shirt as you tried to recover. This, this was everything he could ever want. Afterward, you both cleaned up the kitchen and pizza together, finishing off the six-pack of beer until your yawns were impossible to ignore. 

“It’s really late, Y/N. You should go to sleep,” he said. He hated himself for suggesting it, almost wishing that you would extend the invitation to stay. Even then, though, he would have to decline.

“Or we could, I don’t know, play a game or something?” As you said this, you stifled another yawn. 

He chuckled. You were stalling, he could tell. And he wasn’t strong enough to say no. “Hm, okay how about this. We can hang out in your room and I’ll tell you more about me. But you have to get ready for bed first, otherwise it’s no deal.” 

Your eyelids were heavy, but you beamed anyway. “Yeah, okay.”

You went into your room, grabbing some clothes before shutting yourself into the bathroom to get ready. Seokjin paced your living room, scanning the book shelves, a variety of titles he’d never seen before in the stacks. But there was one, a smaller and thinner book that had more wear and tear than the rest. He slid it out carefully and held it in his hands. Tuck Everlasting, a book he’d read in elementary school about a teenager who met a family that drank from a tree’s magical spring and lived forever. 

Based on your copy, he could tell it was well-loved and read many times. How old were you when you read it, he wondered. Did you want to run away into the woods like he did afterward, trying to find a magical spring of your own? 

The bathroom door opened, and he carefully slotted the book back onto the shelf before turning to you. You were wearing an oversized T-shirt and some very, very short pajama shorts. Your legs looked so soft to touch. His hand twitched.

“Okay,” you said, “I’m ready.” 

Seokjin wasn’t. But he followed you into the darkness of your room anyway, laid himself down next to you on the bed as you tucked yourself under the blankets. Your eyes shimmered as you looked at him, now way more awake than you had appeared just ten minutes ago. 

Were you hustling him? 

“You need to crawl under the blankets too. Otherwise they’ll constrict me and I will absolutely not fall asleep like you have clearly planned,” you tease. 

You were hustling him. He liked it. 

He chuckled and obeyed, folding back the comforter and sheets to get in. But in doing so, he revealed you with your shorts already bunched up on your thighs, exposing your lacy panties at your hip. Your shirt was riding up, and he could see a tiny bit of your stomach peeking out. 

God fucking help him. He managed a deep breath, begging himself not to get hard, or for his body to at least wait until you wouldn’t see him getting hard and he was under the covers. This wasn’t the time. Not after all the emotionality of the day. But his dick didn’t know that. 

Your covers smelled like you, soft and even a little sweet and you really had to be fucking with him because you shoved yourself even closer to him under the covers, so that there were just a few inches between you two. He felt your body heat radiating from you. 

“There,” you sighed, and he smelled a hint of your mint toothpaste. His mouth watered. “Now, where were we?”

No, but where were you really? He didn’t remember, didn’t know where to start. And then it clicked. 

“Mmm, you were going to go to sleep I think,” he said. 

You frowned, your nose wrinkling. “No, that’s not true. Or it was. I’m not tired now.” 

“Give it a minute, I’m sure soon your eyelids won’t be able to stay open.” 

“Sure, but yours are heavy now too. So you must be tired. Now it’s a competition.” You were right. His eyelids were heavy, and he was tired. But he knew his body, especially as keyed up as he was getting, wasn’t about to let him fall asleep any time soon. 

“I think I’ll win that one,” he laughed lightly. 

“Doubt it,” you challenged, and you shifted your legs, now a little less comfy and more antsy. You slowly released a breath. 

“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” He asked, and you didn’t hesitate to nod. 

“I want to know more about you. It’s nice to put the puzzle pieces of you together in my head.” Your voice was growing husky.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. A beat passed. Neither of you moved to say anything, just looked at each other. 

Shouldn’t this be awkward? Shouldn’t all of this feel wrong? Somewhere in his mind, the logical response was yes, this is weird and he should leave. But then he would be leaving you after a hard day, when you clearly were trying to avoid him leaving by going so far as to keep yourself awake to stare at him. To try to get to know him. And that’s what rooted him now. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Maybe you were only being needy. But he also felt needy right now. And for the moment, logic could fuck off. 

So he pushed it away, letting the parts of him he liked most bubble to the surface, the parts that led without overthinking and just acted on what he wanted. 

He moved slightly closer to you, and you blanched, a little taken aback, but you recovered quickly. “

I’m cold,” you said. He knew it was a lie. He could feel the heat of you. 

“Here,” he replied, and he pulled the blanket open slightly so you could wiggle forward, resting yourself against his chest. 

He angled himself carefully, trying so hard to avoid the rest of your bodies touching, but it was impossible, so he pulled you closer, letting every part of you rest against him. 

“Tell me,” you muttered.

“What should I tell you?” he whispered back. 

“I don’t know. Anything.” You were fading quickly, and he was relieved. Sad that he would have to go soon, but relieved that you were finally resting. 

“Okay,” he said, even softer. “I think if I ever drank from a magical spring, I would do a better job hiding it than the Tuck family did.” 

You hummed in response, and then he felt your head nod into his chest as you fell fully asleep. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[faraway-sunshine]

This probably sounds super weird. But I bet your voice cracks sound pretty.

It feels very upsetting when something you say doesn’t sound how you expect it to, your words getting potentially overshadowed by something you didn’t internet, that part is really distressing.

But…. It also means, despite the past, despite your best efforts, you’re finally growing! And that’s a little beautiful. I would probably smile if I heard it.

...

I hadn't really thought about it like that properly. Or at least when my head was quiet, like it normally is right after waking up, like it is now.

Feeling myself change is still a work in progress. I don't keep a mirror in my room and I duck my head at the bathroom one. But I'm feeling my uniform get tighter around the right areas, my hair brushing my collar, the soft fuzzy downy hairs that alarmed my doctor falling out to be replaced by what I know with time will be the same dark body hairs most people get. It's so much harder by knowing that I am older than my sister ever got to be. Every change hurts.

But you're right. It does show that somehow, I made it out of my self-imposed solitary confinement. And that I'm trying not to fall back into being a selfish dreamer ever again.

Thank you for that reframing.

(Thursday 5th October, 2000, 6:50 AM)

[beelzebby666]

Chapter 8: in bloom

Chapters: 8/?

Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters: Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Meryl Stryfe, Milly Thompson, Livio the Double Fang (Trigun), Razlo the Tri-Punisher of Death (Trigun), Millions Knives (Trigun), Tesla (Trigun), Roberto (Trigun Stampede), E. G. Mine (Trigun)

Additional Tags: Beekeeping, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fuckbuddies, Friends to Lovers, Trans Male Character, Trans Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Trans Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Canon Disabled Character, Cooking, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Grinding, Clothed Sex, Sharing a Bed, Skippable Sex Scenes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Switching, Strap Ons, Self Esteem Issues, Cat Dads, Japanese Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Outdoor Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Vash the Stampede's Disordered Eating (Trigun), T-Dick Penetration, Clit Pumping, Tattoos, Bugs & Insects, Sex Toys, Meet the Family

Summary:

Sad and lonely chain-smoking line cook Wolfwood meets a weird guy at the bar who keeps bees for a living.

[ao3feed-nanago]

Mouth to Meat

by NanamiNeedsTherapy Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him. Words: 4839, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M Characters: Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Reader, Getou Suguru, Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Toji, Higuruma Hiromi Relationships: Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna/Reader, Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna & Reader, Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento Additional Tags: Cannibalism, Manipulation, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna is a Little Shit, Reader-Insert, Dark Psychology, Yakuza Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Serial Killers, Psychology, Psychological Horror, Mind Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Child Murder, Murder, psychological profiling, Psychological Evaluation, dark themes, Horror, Psychological Manipulation, Violence, Obsession, Power Dynamics, Yandere Characters, Torture, Death, Twisted Romance, Dark Romance, non-con elements, Blood and Gore, Psychological Thriller, Stalking, sadistic behavior, Torture Porn, Mental Health Issues, Narcissism, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychopaths In Love, Alternate Universe - Psychopaths, Yandere, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Unreliable Narrator, Partners in Crime, Crimes & Criminals, Hate Crimes, Thriller, double homicide, Alternate Universe - No Curses (Jujutsu Kaisen), Alternate Universe - Jujutsu Kaisen Fusion, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, psychopathy, Sadistic Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Morally Ambiguous Character, I'm Bad At Tagging via https://ift.tt/c50fdvq

[hd-tarot]

🔮 [FIC] Rusty Cage (E, 20.5k words) by Anonymous 🃏

Harry Potter is not okay. Someone else who’s not okay? Draco Malfoy, but he's doing time in Azkaban for his heinous crimes.

But what if Draco isn't as guilty as he's been made out to be? Everyone knows that Harry is a sucker for righting injustice, including Hermione, who is more than prepared to meddle in order to help her best friend.

Or, when Harry visits Draco in prison and things don't go quite as expected.

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue, Post-Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is Not Okay, POV Harry Potter, Harry Potter is Not Okay, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Harry Potter Needs Therapy, Draco Malfoy Needs Therapy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Agoraphobia, Eating Disorders, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Neglect, Smut, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Happy Ending, Inspired by Tarot, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Sentient Magical Houses, Sentient Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Cooking, Wrongful Imprisonment

Tarot Card(s): Eight of Swords

Notes: Eight of Swords Upright: imprisonment, entrapment, self-victimization Reversed: self acceptance, new perspective, freedom Thank you so much to the fest mods for organising this fest. I knew exactly which card I wanted for my prompt, the story was just there waiting for me! Thank you P for stepping in and beta reading for me, particularly for cracking down on my cavalier use of commas. Sorry to Draco and Harry, I put you through it in this fic but you know I ❤️ you both! 'I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run' - Soundgarden

✧ Read HERE on AO3 ✧

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

May 19th

~*~

1. Hii! For the next itmf I was wondering if anyone had anything with wwx resorting to cannibalism after being thrown in the burial mounds?

🔒 the aftertaste of desperation by moonshine (princemin) (M, 4k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Cannibalism, Corpse Eating, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Trauma, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, welcome to my agenda: let wwx have a breakdown, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

🔒 Three Months, but One Day Shy by mondengel (M, 1k, Angst, Gore, Cannibalism, Horror, 🔒 PodFic by flamingwell)

🔒 my eyes got used to the darkness by curiositykilled (M, 4k, JC & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Body Horror, Implied Cannibalism, Dehumanization, Sunshot Campaign, YLLZ WWX, Demonic Cultivation, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Ghosts, Disordered Eating, Referenced Animal Abuse, 🔒 PodFic by flamingwell)

a kind of emptiness by ScarlettStorm (E, 11k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Eating Disorders, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorder Recovery, low angst, Happy Ending, seriously in spite of the tags this fic is very soft, Tender smut, Frottage, Praise Kink, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

💖 the absence of hunger by parsnipit (M, 27k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Starvation, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Body Worship, Praise Kink, ft. WWX's really fucked up relationship with food, PTSD, Flashbacks, Blood and Injury, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Cannibalism)

~*~

2. Hii! For the next itmf,

A. I was wondering if there are any fics of wangxian during the opium war? Or any fics set in that time period?

B. Concubine wwx who already has children/yuan falling in love lwj? (Who is not the current emperor/king) @songtaegguk

2B)

Red Lotus Blooming at Sunset by janewritesstuff (Jane_de_Plaine) (E, 18k, WangXian, LXC/WWX, LWJ/WWX/LXC, implied LXC / Other(s), Royalty, Historical, Female WWX, Concubine WWX, Harem, Threesome - F/M/M, Porn With Plot, Consensual Infidelity, Voyeurism, Angst with a Happy Ending, extended tags in author's note, Dark LXC) mind the tags

all rivers flow safely to sea by GenerallyBookish (E, 140k, WangXian, WIP, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Royalty, Historical, Historical References, Ancient China, Historical Inaccuracy, Happy Ending, Oblivious WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Soft WangXian, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Strangers to Lovers, Concubine WWX, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Jealous LWJ, Amnesia, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Fluff and Angst)

~*~

3. ITMF!! Any modern au/college au fics where the ensemble( wwx, nhs, wq, lwj, lxc, jyl , jgy etc) is just one cracky friend group that does dumb shit that likes to fuck around and find out @yesibest

if you ever feel alone, don’t by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 25k, wangxian, Modern, College/University, Texting, group chat au, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, everyone is chaotic but especially wwx, disaster bi wwx, Matchmaking, Bad Matchmaking, maybe a splash of light angst just for fun, the most dumbassery u have ever seen, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, an unholy amount of miscommunication really, chatfic, now with a bonus valentine’s day chapter, Podfic Available)

Carefully Orchestrated Plans (no strings attached) by Maledictius (T, 101k, WangXian, SongXiao, ChengSang, XuanLi, MianQing, NingYu, Modern AU, Chatting & Messaging, Orchestra, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip)

~*~

4. Hello, love an appreciate what you’re doing it’s amazing. For the next itmf, There was a fic finder that was asking for wangxian Addams family aus, and I read all of the suggestions bc I love Addams family aus, do you know of any more in the same vein?

~*~

5. Hi all I hope you are doing well and recovery fast this is a request for ITMF I’m looking for a fic where lan zhan is the flirt to wei ying and not the other way around ❤️ @red-spacekitten

Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground (E, 22k, WangXian, PWP, Getting Together, Road Trips, Modern, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Humor, Banter, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Hand Jobs, Car Sex, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Coming Untouched, Sexual Tension, Come Eating) #5 is a hard one in that I can't think of fics where Lan Zhan is overtly flirtatious like Wei Ying is, so here are some ones where Lan Zhan is pursuing Wei Ying in his own way lol

gotta get lost (if you wanna be found) by Spodumene (E, 27k, WangXian, Modern, High School via Flashbacks, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Underage Kissing, Identity Porn, Dubcon of the Phoenix Mountain variety, Eventual Smut, Overstimulation, Mild CNC Play, Getting Together, Happy Ending)

Love 'em and leave 'em fast by danegen (E, 23k, WangXian, Modern, Set in America, POV WWX, meet creepy, rough but fairly vanilla sex, Bisexual WWX; LWJ FUCKS, not a coffee shop au, not NOT a coffee shop AU, but a secret third thing that sometimes involves a coffee shop)

🔒 Take my heart by LadyKG (Not rated, 22k, wangxian, Fix-It, WWX POV, Time Travel, WWX is oblivious but not THAT oblivious thank fuck, JC is done with Wifi’s shit, LXC is an angel, but when isn’t he lbh, author is biased because of love for characters)

Back up and dream again by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 3k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Fix-It, Time Travel, Fluff, Flirting, Cute, Embarrassed WWX)

~*~

6. Hi, 👋

Itmf

Are there any works where

A) WY parents prepared him for emergency (if they die). May be survival skills or maybe survival kit and alert to a friend.

B) WY parents taught him not to allow others belittle him (abuse)

C) WY parents told him to not become a Jiang disciple

Thank you!

6A)

Forked Path by nirejseki (G, 3k, WWX/WRH, Sect Leader Nie/WRH, WRH & Sect Leader Nie, WWX is more mentioned than appearing, Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, despite it being about him, Canon Divergence, WX Not Raised In the Jiang, Somewhat crack) I'm not sure if this one counts because it's a rare pair (Wen Ruohan/Wei Wuxian) where Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze make a deal with Wen Ruohan for him to take Wei Wuxian in to the Wen Sect if they die, specifically because they don't want him to be raised in the streets or by the Jiang sect.

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7. Hi 👋🏼 Thanks for your amazing work . For the next itmf can you plz recommend some fics where the Jiang Cheng (or both Jiang Siblings) are older than Wei Ying . Like at least a few years, 3 to 5 or more , and they protect him .Preferably a complete work ❤️

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8. itmf some didn't-know-we-were-dating type fics! any where one of wwx or lwj think they're dating or engaged and the other one doesn't know. any manner of we're-just-hanging-out or fwb or it's-just-casual-between-us is good. thanks!

without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, (there is so much sleeping in this fic), mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX's Love Language is Physical Touch, Guess what: even more non-sexual sleeping together, the plot of the fic is just… co-sleeping, call it the Nap Fic ™, Podfic Available, WWX isn't so much 'oblivious' as he is wilfully blocking some feelings subconsciously, WWX 'idk how I feel' to 'I'm gonna marry him' pipeline)

so hot you're hurting my feelings by isabilightwood (E, 40k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, Modern, Oblivious LWJ, Didn't Know They Were Dating, no moms were harmed in the making of this fic, mama lan took LQR in the divorce, LWJ Has Friends, all wwx characterization decisions were made to make lwj pine harder for his own boyfriend, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Halloween, WWX's birthday, Sub LWJ, Light Dom/sub, Spanking)

be still, my foolish heart by mirrorofprinces (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Misunderstandings, One innocent rabbit who did nothing wrong, based on a reddit post, Getting Together)

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9. looking for fics where wwx didn't die and was soon made aware of lwj's punishment. wwx going mad about it? sure. wwx nearly wiping out the lans? sure. wwx kidnapping lwj? sure. Any recommendations please

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10. Hi! For the next ITMF post, can you recommend some fics where after wwx gets resurrected by mxy he is in pain and doesn't know what happend and then lwj shows up with the juniors and he's like 'lan zhan, help me' and he falls into his arms. Actually I don't really remember if it's a specific fic or just in the mood for something similar, but thank you for time ♥

🔒 they do not fall to earth by LtLJ (G, 2k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Episode Related, CQL canon, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst)

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11. Hi all! In the mood for post-canon fics with a focus on Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling bonding? Thank you!

singing through the dark by twigofwillow (G, 13k, JL & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, Yunmeng bros reconciliation if you squint, angst with a tiny bit of fluff)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

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12. Do you know of any wheelchair use wwx that isn't thread of love? Thank you so much mods for being amazing 🩵🩵🩵

How did I end up with this Frozen Heart? by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 53k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, YP!WWX, twin prides of yunmeng are horrified at the relationship between their future selves, YP!WWX has short hair, Canon Divergence, Self-Indulgent, wangxian get together early, Songfic, JC Bashing, LXC Bashing)

Gentians of Yesterday by KobaltBlu (G, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Paralyzed WWX, Lan WWX)

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13. hi for itmf do you know any fics where wwx knows lwj doesnt love him back? but in the end lwj does love him back. similar to sarah-yyy’s rebuttable presumption verse. thank you sm!

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending)

Blooming You a Garden Inside Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 66k, WangXian, WIP, Hanahaki Disease, LWJ's inability to understand his feelings, LWJ being a meanie, WWX's first life, Angst, Happy Ending, Pain, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Sibling JC, Jiang siblings, One-Sided WWX/WN, Good Friends, everyone loves mr. sunshine, POV Multiple, JC & WWX Talk About Feelings, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Sibling LXC)

Regret Blossoms by piecrust (G, 7k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease)

For you by 10thNoNamePerson (T, 17k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Canon Divergence, No War AU, Teen Wangxian, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jealous WWX, Soft LWangXian, No Sunshot Campaign)

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14. Hi!! For the next itfm: does anyone have anything with Wei Wuxian getting triggered? I would prefer if it's post canon but everything is fine tbh! Thank you ♡ @menimimimeni

Home, Family; a Safe Feeling by Thinking_of_Wolfie_Fluff (T, 6k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Bittersweet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Gusu Lan Sect, Post-Canon, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, WWX Loves LWJ, WangXian in Love, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

The most dangerous thing is to love by KatAnni (E, 113k, WangXian, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Hurt!WWX, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Golden Core Transfer, Golden Core Transfer Fix-it, Medical Procedures, Fainting, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Asexual JC, homophobia doesn’t exist here, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, Wedding Night, Whump) It's divergent rather than post-canon.

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15. Do you know any fic where, when Wei Wuxian dies, his Golden Core (in JC) vanishes?

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16. heyy admins how are u guys? itmf more longer fics like twelve moons and a fortnight by stiltonbasket? thank you! ❤️

The River Runs Forever by Cerusee (T, 257k, wangxian, JYL & WWX & JC, NHS/JYL, WWX & NHS, character death, BAMF WWX, inventor WWX, sect leader WWX)

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17. I wanted fics where wangxian are killers or partners in crime. It could be every type of fic you know. I just want some where they kill and are loving @quwieiidkd

silhouettes to steal this night by moonsteps (T, 51k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Modern, Assassins & Hitmen, Roommates, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Identity Porn, Violence, Blood and Injury, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Secret Identity)

🔒 For good by apathyinreverie (M, 6k, WangXian, Modern, mafia, everyone is a little darker, lxc really needs to practice those people skills, general warning for JGS, Domestic WangXian, Praise Kink, Simp LWJ, BAMF WWX)

So Full Of Love (Wouldn’t Know Where to Start) by witchupbitch (M, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Blood and Violence, Idiots in Love, Humor, Mafia AU, Modern AU, Flirting, shameless WWX, Confident WWX, Explicit Language, Mutual Sexual Tension, dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Exhibitionism Sex, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[steddieunderdogfics]

I Can Wait For You At The Bottom by Atalia_Gold

@ataliagold

Rating: Mature

57,524 words, 16/16 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, He Gets Many, Updating tags as I go, Supportive Wayne Munson, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Vomiting, Steve Harrington Has Body Image Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Slow Burn, Disordered Eating, Hand Jobs

Summary:

“Leave me!” The boy repeated, insistent now, and Eddie’s hand felt wet against the boy’s face now. He realized with a pang that he was crying. From his position in the doorway, Eddie could see into the lounge, and his stomach dropped at the sight of several empty pill packets on the coffee table, moonlight glinting off them. “Nah, I’m not gonna do that,” Eddie murmured to him, and he pulled the boy closer, ignoring his weak protests and guiding his head into his lap. “S’alright, I gotcha.” ***** Steve drives to an isolated cabin intending to end it all. He wasn't counting on a desperate boy breaking into the cabin on the same night.

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