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jimilter · 7 days ago

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on the borderline — 05 | pjm. (m)

Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | drama | friends to lovers!au

word count: 7.6 k

— warnings: swearing + repeated mention & description of sex (some gets detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + mention of a past toxic relationship + perhaps a present toxic relationship? + the worst kind of emotional constipation + misunderstandings + lies and pretense +one-sided feelings + reader is a bigger mess + jimin is a mess too :/

— note: HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025, PEOPLE! <3 it was excruciating getting back into this one but it was also kinda therapeutic bec real life has been whooping my ass :( i have begun writing the sixth part too bec i truly forreal wish to complete this series without taking another year helP!

ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.

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𝐕 ⇢ 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 ♪ between heaven and disaster

07:03 AM | Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 hey sorry i missed all your calls and texts :( i figured u would ask abt seokjin and the date and i kinda didn’t wanna talk abt it not necessarily in a bad way just a “let me figure it out first” way which still doesn’t excuse ghosting u so i AM rly sorry :( how was your flight? and the dinner meeting?

07:16 AM ↳ SHE LIVES!!!!!! ↳ Good morning Grumpkincess <3 ↳ All that you said about your date has just made 1000x curious now yk ↳ Oh, and I had a horrible flight ↳ My partner drooled on my $70 shirt 😭 ↳ Barely had time to change it before our meeting at 4 UGH

Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 good morning WHAT now ? that better not be a new pet name park jimin

↳ Yes it is, Grumpkincess ↳ A grumpy pumpkin princess ↳ Adorable right?

Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 ykw your cringe ass deserved getting your shirt ruined karma 🖕

↳ Ihy 🖕 ↳ Ok enough of this can we pls talk???

Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 ??? are we not talking?

Jimin rears back from his phone almost violently. Did you, of all people, really just imply that texting is equivalent to talking? He is pretty sure that of the entire time that the two of you have lived in separate towns, you have spent more than half of it on video calls with each other.

That is talking for the two of you.

Or at least it used to be, before he got onto this flight which has apparently landed him in some parallel universe.

He immediately sits up in bed and calls you.

And you immediately disconnect the call.

What?

His jaw is still dropped when his phone vibrates in his palm again, indicating an incoming voice call from you. Scowling, Jimin nearly whines a what the fuck into the phone.

“I look like dogshit, dude, please,” you groan from your end.

“Seriously? You’re telling me you won’t show me your face because you look bad?” Rolling his eyes, Jimin reclines on his bed, a little assured at hearing your voice but also a little confused by your words. “Dude. I’ve seen you with puke all over your clothes, I’ve seen you with cum on your face, I’ve seen you with a black eye, I’ve seen you with—”

“Okay, I get it!” you interrupt with another groan. “I feel like dogshit, then. Is that better?”

Now he is concerned. “No. Obviously. How can that be better? Babe, what’s going on? You’re being…”

“Weird? Bitchy? Whiny? Annoying?”

“No, just…” He bites his bottom lip. “A little unlike yourself.”

“Wow, that's worse.” You give a small sigh. “I’ll be fine, I just need to recalibrate my head. Don't worry.”

How can he not worry when you sound this tired and timid? Jimin almost wants to ask if Seokjin has something to do with it. But then his brain starts to conjure up images featuring exactly how that man could have tired you out and that leaves a bad taste in his mouth, followed by a series of negative emotions that make his heart race and his head hurt.

He went through this same series of emotions last evening, too, when you didn’t respond to his messages. He doesn’t want to give himself enough time to analyze any part of it, though, because he isn’t ready to face what he might uncover.

“How can I help?” he ends up asking, because putting his mind to literally anything else would be better than self-introspection right now.

You don’t respond immediately and everything is so quiet that Jimin can hear your breathing on the other side. Then you hum. “Honestly? Just give me a little time, Min. I’ll be fine.”

“Time? As in…time away from this conversation?”

“Yes, dork. Some time by myself, with my thoughts.” You chuckle as you say the words but Jimin doesn’t find them funny.

He swallows the tight discomfort in the back of his throat and scoffs in response, though. “Well, okay then. Your funeral. And here I was thinking I will tell you about this weirdly snobbish butler-assistant guy the clients brought with them to the meeting last night.”

“Wait, butler-assistant?” You exclaim with a curious scoff, and Jimin smiles at the spark of the familiar humour that tinges your voice. “What the fuck is that?”

“Escapes me! They had this Alfred lookalike guy driving their limo, who joined in when they sat at the table with us, and—get this—dude kept interrupting me to tell his boss the time every fifteen minutes! What fucking clownery!” Jimin pauses to inhale, slightly disappointed when he hears you give a distant chuckle. You’re not invested. Your head’s somewhere else. He doesn’t want to share his story anymore. “I might sock him in the face if pulls that shit again, today.”

You give a hum in response, which sounds decidedly half-hearted. “I’m sure your intimidating scowls would’ve scared him away already, Min. He probably won’t join your meeting today.”

Jimin’s mouth slowly parts at the unfamiliarity of your remark. You never miss any opportunity to roast him about being a pacifist. How did you allow his claim of throwing a punch to go by so easily?

And intimidating scowls? What happened to calling them ‘little bitch stare-downs’?

First you refuse to show him your face, sticking to this annoying voice call that’s overheating his phone because he doesn't have his airpods with him right now, and then you’re talking in a language that is so unlike you.

The discomfort in the back of his throat swells into a strange feeling that reaches the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah, I hope so… Sure.” His words come out low, hoarse and confused. So he clears his throat and puts a grin on his face. “Anyways! You sound like you need a fat nap to function like yourself again – I'll allow you to have that.”

“Mm-hm, I agree.” It could be his imagination, but you sound almost relieved. “I’ll call you soon, okay? Say hi to Tara for me.”

Jimin grunts and disconnects the call, immediately tossing his phone away as if it has personally offended him. Well maybe not the device, but the caller certainly has.

Just then, the door to the suite’s balcony opens and shuts, footsteps making their way to the other twin bed opposite the one he's lying on. He's almost counting down the seconds before a comment is made, and he doesn't have to wait long, when:

“Trouble in paradise?” comes Min Yoongi's taunting lilt.

Exhaling in ire, Jimin rolls his eyes. “For the last time: there’s no paradise to trouble, Yoongi.”

“You know what I mean, dude. You look worried. And frustrated. It's got to be about…her.”

Jimin winces at the emphasis on the pronoun. “She's not Voldemort, dude, you can say her name. What the fuck?”

“Ah, is that so? Then how about… the love of your life?”

“Yoongi! Stop with that already, man. It's not like that between us, we’re just friends who lean on each other for support,” Jimin speaks on autopilot, having perfected the words he has been repeating ever since his colleagues got to know about your existence in his life. “It’s a strange dynamic but it works out well for—”

“Oh, shut up, King of Delusions. About time you stop fooling yourself and me with that bullcrap.” Now it's Yoongi's turn to scoff at Jimin. “Your feelings for her are becoming more and more obvious with time. And if I can see them with such clarity, I bet that you can as well. Which only means that you’re knowingly turning a blind eye. And it is pissing me off.”

So, yeah, this isn't the first time Jimin's hearing this lecture from his friend.

It’s always the same story whenever any mention of you happens in Min Yoongi’s vicinity. Jimin should, ideally, be immune to the non-stop badgering, but the older guy somehow always manages to bring in fresh points to the table, so Jimin is forced to react with even louder groans, each time.

“When the hell are you going to admit you’re in love with her?”

“I’m literally not,” Jimin’s complaint comes out as a whine, and he mentally counts down the seconds till Yoongi will bring up the fact that he was stopped from pursuing you by Jimin. He wonders if the actual reason why Yoongi does this is because the guy still has a crush on you and feels resentful towards Jimin for not letting him ask you out. “Please stop.”

“You’re not in love? Sure, buddy. You forbade me from pursuing her like some alpha male protective of his mate… doesn't get more soulmate-y than that!” Yoongi rolls his eyes with a grimace. “When the fuck are you going to face yourself?”

“This again? Seriously? I've told you countless times that I did that because she was uncomfortable with your affections,” he reminds Yoongi for what feels like the hundredth time. “I was being a good friend.”

“Right, and she still doesn't know anything about it, does she? She still thinks I stopped pursuing her because I lost interest. Why haven't you told her you had a talk with me?”

Jimin closes his eyes and drags both his palms down his face because Yoongi is absolutely correct. “I… Because it doesn't concern her.”

Yoongi is silent for a while. When Jimin peeks past his fingers to see if the guy may have fallen asleep, he finds Yoongi gaping at him. “Are you even listening to yourself? You stopped me from pursuing her because she's uncomfortable, but telling her about it doesn't concern her? Make it make sense, Park!” He scoffs. “Does she even know we're friends? Does she know you're on this trip with me?”

Jimin remains silent, slowly turning his head to the other direction. “Not really. Told her I'm accompanied by Tara,” he mumbles, only for Yoongi to give a dramatic gasp.

“What? She doesn't know we're friends? Why the fuck would you lie to her about me? Are you ashamed of me, you asshole? And Tara, of all people? What the fuck is wrong with your head?”

Jimin almost laughs at Yoongi’s horrified expressions, but then stops himself because he half suspects the guy might toss him off the balcony if irritated enough, and they’re on the twentieth floor. “It's just… It never came up, I guess? I… don't really talk to her about work much…” His excuse is so weak it makes him physically cringe.

“You were literally just crying to her about our client's butler…”

“Okay, okay, fine!” Jimin sits up, sliding back to rest his head against the headboard, and looks up at the ceiling. “I don't know why I couldn't tell her. But it's not because I'm in love with her, okay? That doesn't even make sense because I still tease her about you for fun. And I also didn't stop you from pursuing her because I wanna be with her, or anything. I don't have those kinds of feelings for her. Promise.”

“Okay. What kind of feelings do you have for her then?”

Jimin opens his mouth to reiterate that you're just friends, briefly shutting his eyes in exasperation—and then freezes.

An entire cinematic reel of images sets in motion behind his closed eyelids, all featuring your eyes, your skin, your warmth — and his intimacy with them. The darkened haze of your gaze when he pulled away from kissing you. The softness of the skin of your shoulder when he dug his teeth into it; the taste of your skin. Of you. He can nearly smell the scent of your hair in his lungs and can hear the short, hitched breaths you puffed out next to his ears.

His heart rate kicks up and sweat dots his forehead within the seconds it takes for him to open his eyes again.

It is as if he got dunked into scalding hot water, stifling him and overwhelming all his senses all at once. He feels warm all over. His chest feels heavier than before.

Shit.

This isn't the kind of behavior someone’s ‘just friend’ would exhibit. These aren’t the kind of thoughts he has ever had about you, before.

Shit.

“Well?” Yoongi is looking at him expectantly with zero judgement in his gaze. “What kind of feelings, Jimin?”

He and Yoongi share a sort of bond where they serve as each other’s sounding boards about decisions that they take at work, with their team. That is not to say that they aren’t good friends and only talk about work. But it’s just that these conversations have never really included much honesty from Jimin’s end whenever the topic hovered over you.

Jimin can feel that he is about to change that now, though.

He breathes in and honestly confesses to Yoongi what he hasn't even said to himself out loud, yet: “They’re… confusing.”

Yoongi nearly jumps off his bed and lands on one corner of Jimin's, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “Confusing? Not strictly platonic the way they used to be? Dude…” He shakes his head in awe. “This is new. What's changed?”

Jimin fiddles with his thumbs, lips pursed together as he finds himself caught in a very uncharacteristic fit of nervousness. “So there's this… this thing that happened before I left for this trip… And it changed some things, I guess?”

Yoongi blinks at him, expressions dropped to a deadpan. “You slept with her, didn't you?”

“Wha—how the hell—”

“I’m older than you, I've seen more in this world than you have, so hush with the theatrics. Tell me what happened after that.”

Well. Where does he begin? “She… went on a date with a guy, so—”

“A date? Right after the day you had sex with her?”

Jimin clicks his tongue and shoves Yoongi's shoulder. “Yes and it's not a big deal, okay? We decided that we are going to move ahead and remain the kind of best friends we've always been. And she'd made plans for that date before we slept together, so it's all completely fine.”

Yoongi is squinting at him by the time Jimin stops speaking. “Hm. Is it, really? All completely fine?”

“Yes, it is! I just said it was!”

“O—kay? So what's the problem, then? You decided you both would move ahead and you did – what's the catch? You don't like that she's being normal?”

“No, that's not it. She… wasn't exactly normal, either. She sounded…” Jimin gulps the nerves that block his throat as the prospect of losing your friendship swims up in his vision. “She sounded off. Different. Distant.”

“Oh, boy… Are you scared that she hit it off really well with her date and moved away from you?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “That's impossible.”

Yoongi gives a smirk which unnerves Jimin in all the bad ways. “Is it? Because if it isn't the possibility of her growing distant from you and closer to someone else that's been troubling you, your issues are way deeper and definitely scarier. Good luck, pal.”

Throughout the entire day full of meetings that Jimin goes through, Yoongi's words keep circling in his head. Did it really bother him that you went on a date? He swore up and down that you guys will remain normal and that night will remain just a memory. So obviously it was correct of you to go on that date you’d planned in advance!

Why the hell is he acting up when you're doing exactly what you both planned you'd do?

Jimin chooses to have lunch by himself, in one corner of the cafeteria, leaving Yoongi to mingle with the clients, and mulls over his situation and state of mind.

Maybe he is bothered by your date. And maybe he is so bothered because it was too soon.

Because he can't get the images of that night out of his head the way he thought he'd easily be able to.

When he tried to nap on the flight, he saw you riding his dick. When he got into the shower, he saw your teary face after he'd eaten you out good. He had to touch himself to take the edge off, praying that Yoongi wouldn't hear him, and that literally helped with nothing.

Does he actually… want you?

The last time this happened was around six years ago.

Jimin sips at his almond milk as memories of a time he’d thought was distant and forgotten cascade through his brain.

The two of you were juniors in college. He'd recently gotten out of this toxic relationship that had sucked all the joy out of his life and was spending his days sleeping in and skipping classes, and his nights drinking with friends. It was 2 am when he saw an Instagram post of you posing sweetly for the camera and all he could think of was how badly he missed you. How he hated the fact that you went to different colleges because he wanted to see you so bad.

He'd left a series of drunk texts in your DMs, of all places, telling you that you were the best girl he'd ever met and that you were perfect in every way and how happy you would make someone by being theirs. You'd replied the next morning, thanking him for being a sweetheart and then told him that you’d found the lucky one – because axolotl had finally asked you out on a date.

Jimin would never admit it to anyone, but he’d been really upset and extremely jealous of that stupid asshole. It had gotten to the point where he over-inserted himself into your relationship to let fucking axolotl know that he’d come first in your life. That is not to say that the dude wasn’t toxic enough by himself. But when Jimin saw the way his actions were causing you hurt too, he decided to retreat.

That was when he swore he would step back and be the best bff to you at every step in life.

And he’s been on that road pretty religiously!

All the flirting he gets up to with you is totally harmless and only for fun because he enjoys making you blush. Which is probably why he tried to categorize that night under this ‘harmless fun’, too. But it’s clearly not working.

He’s restless. He needs to return home and see you in person.

He needs to ensure that he can still be your friend despite all these thoughts plaguing his brain.

What the hell is going to do if he doesn’t arrive upon the desired answer, however? He hasn’t the slightest clue.

Jimin spends the rest of the day waiting for your call – which never comes.

He texts you when he’s done packing his bags after his last meeting, but you don't respond.

The heavy feeling in his stomach grows heavier and heavier – until it becomes so suffocating that he has to come out to the balcony and breathe in some fresh air.

Except – smoke fills his lungs upon the first inhale, and he wrinkles his nose at Yoongi’s cigarette.

“What? Can't a guy enjoy a smoke in peace? We have to be at the airport in an hour.”

“Oh, no, don’t mind me. Please relish every bit of your death stick, by all means.”

Yoongi snorts at his words, and snuffs the remainder of the cigarette out with a roll of his eyes. “Your panties are in a twist again. What's happened now?”

“I'm fine.”

“Sure. And everything's okay between you and she who shall not be named?”

For a moment, Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, watching the way the remnant smoke swirls away from the balcony and disappears into the late afternoon sky. Then he sighs. “I don’t know. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts and she didn’t call me. She’d said she would. I feel too fucking tense, it’s like my neurons are collapsing in on themselves.”

“Oh, man… If only you were a smoker, I would have procured you some of the best weed in the market. Would have taken the edge off with a handful of puffs.”

Jimin scowls at the guy. “Thank you for your consideration. Think I’ll just hit myself over the head with a saucepan and call it a day.”

“Stop stressing out so much, you moron. We’ll be back there in four hours. Take a cab straight to her place and talk everything out. Distance is a bitch that creates miscommunication. It’s just a matter of hours.”

Jimin nods to himself.

Just a matter of hours.

He can’t do it.

Jimin parted ways with Yoongi the moment he grabbed his luggage at the airport, and made a beeline for the cab he booked to take him to your place. He booked the ride in advance, even before he shot you a text informing his arrival back in town.

But just as his butt touches the leather seats – he realises that he can’t ambush you at your place.

So he regretfully gives the driver his own address and agrees to pay the extra amount that this re-routing would cost.

He shuts his eyes and lets out a deep, guttural exhale of frustration. Just a few hours ago, he couldn't wait to get to you fast enough.

And now, when he is at such a short distance away from actually being able to approach you and have a face to face conversation, his nerves have shackled him down and he cannot get himself to do it.

Some part of him believes that he needs to have a proper talk with himself about what the hell has happened with the dynamics the two of you share before he can prepare himself to have one with you. But some part of him believes that to be just a cop out. Which isn’t a complete lie, because at the end of the day, he is deathly afraid of losing you.

He needs to destress his mind.

But you’re the person he turns to when he needs to destress his mind.

Maybe… he can call you? That won’t be as risky and potentially devastating as paying you a visit, right?

Right. It can’t be. And he’s gotta talk to you because he misses you like crazy.

When his cab finally slows down before his apartment, his anxiety has reached a high that is making his forehead sweat despite the car's AC. Hopping out of the vehicle, he pays the driver and quickly gets into his apartment.

“It’s all gonna be fine, Park,” he mumbles to himself in a lame attempt at a pep talk while he changes out of his clothes and hops into the bathroom for a quick but hot shower. “She's your best friend in the world. You won't lose her. To anything.” He thickly swallows. “Or anyone.”

Donning some sweatpants and a t-shirt, he walks into his living room with his hair still wet and opens up a window to let some fresh air in. The sun has just sunk beneath the horizon, leaving behind some remnant daylight and a beautiful orange hue. Inhaling the crisp evening October air, he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

07:42 PM | Text Message from Grumpkin 🎃💖 woohooo! welcome back to the town, dork <3

He smiles at the text and calls your number.

You pick up the call within seconds of its ringing, filling his phone screen with your entire form that is seated in your bedroom’s bay window.

Jimin’s words sort of get stuck in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous self dressed down in grey lounge pants and a pastel yellow hoodie.

Wait, gorgeous? You look exactly the way you have always looked.

And… you have always looked gorgeous, haven’t you?

Jimin can feel his palms beginning to sweat. No, Yoongi was wrong. He wasn’t ready to face you. He isn’t ready to confront all that has changed in his perception of you, when you are exactly the same person that you have always been.

Your hair is wet, as if you just exited the shower too. And the way your hoodie drowns your entire body seems like the most adorable thing in the world to him. Your cheeks have a darker tint to them, too – caused by warm water, excitement about talking to him, or something else entirely? He hasn’t a clue. It just makes you look prettier and his heart beat louder.

Jimin is suddenly overcome with the urge to run all the way to your place and envelop you in a hug.

And you both never hug—both certifiably allergic to physical affection.

Fuck, he wishes he was there so that he could cup your pretty face in his palms and cover your kissable lips with his own. His fingers twitch with the urge.

Fuck.

“Welcome back, dork!” you announce, spreading your lips in a joyous grin. “Are you sleeping with your eyes open wide?”

Broken out of his crisis-inducing trance, Jimin forces a chuckle out of his throat, “I—I was gonna sing-song ‘honey, I'm home’ to you, but you picked up the call t—too fast.”

Fuck, did he just fucking stutter? You don’t seem to have noticed, thankfully, because you simply laugh some more. Your eyes are big and bright and brimming with affection, even if you've pursed your lips in a faux display of anger.

He feels like he missed looking into their depths. Has it really been just two days since he last saw you?

Wait, not even fully that – he left your place yesterday morning.

And now he’s on a freaking video call with you, clutching onto his phone like it’s his lifeline, nearly panting for your attention and affection as if he’s been starved for it.

Shit, shit, shit, he is supremely screwed.

“Honey’s glad you’re home, too, I guess?”

Your response is ten-on-ten on-brand with the sort of banter the two of you engage in. It makes him believe that everything is actually good. That it’s all gonna be alright.

Jimin smiles and hopes to God he doesn’t look as stupidly lovesick as he feels in the moment. A lost puppy finally returning home to its owner.

Cursing under his breath at his train of thoughts, he reclines sideways on one of his sofa chairs and fluffs his wet hair away from his forehead.

“So, how was your trip? How’s Tara?”

“Trip was good. Productive. We sealed the deal – despite the stupid Alfred-ass guy. And Tara’s fine, too.” He tries his best to disguise his wince as a smile. “Rushed home the moment we touched down.”

“Oh, her husband must’ve picked her up, right? Forgot she's married.” You nod to yourself, scratching your head and furrowing your brows in thought. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine. Had to sit next to a guy who fell asleep the moment we took off, and constantly kept leaning his head on my shoulder. It’s just a three hour flight! He couldn’t stay up that long?” he grumbles, rolling his eyes because the guy he’s talking about is actually Min freaking Yoongi. “I think I have a cramp in my right side because of him.”

You chuckle at that, popping some salted almonds into your mouth. “So what’s the plan for the week? You got office tomorrow?”

“Yep! Although we both are allowed to go in a bit late.”

“That’s considerate of your company.”

There’s a dull pause in the conversation which Jimin uses to wordlessly admire your face on his phone screen, again. He remembers the way other guys used to compliment your eyes, or the length of your nose, the plumpness of your lips, and how he used to just roll his eyes at their words because he didn’t see what they saw.

Well, now he does. He sees all of that and so much more. He sees it and he craves it.

If not kiss you then at least see you. Be in your proximity. Admire your smile without a camera distorting it into pixels.

He wishes to visit you. He feels ready enough. Composed enough. He will keep himself safely off of risky topics.

Like, come on. He is twenty-seven. Mature enough to handle himself enough to not make a fool of himself or accidentally ruin a friendship that he holds dearer than his life. Of course he is.

“So, what about you? Any plans for the night? Should I come crash?”

It’s out before he can overthink—or even fully think—of a proper, saner, more sophisticated way to pose the question.

And given the way your eyes widen slightly, regret singes his tongue that articulated the words. “Uh…”

Catching himself in time, Jimin sits up and makes a show of narrowing his eyes at the screen. “What? What is it? What are you hiding, little wench?”

A laughter bubbles out of you, but he can sense your awkwardness through the expressions you wear. It guts him. Swallowing thickly, he raises his eyebrows and beckons you to speak.

Finally, you exhale and purse your lips. “Well, um. I, uh, kinda have Seokjin coming over later?”

The way Jimin’s jaw drops to the floor hasn’t a smidgeon of acting to it. “Say what?”

You wince, biting down on your bottom lip. “Yeah…”

“I… Didn’t you say you didn’t wanna talk about the date?” His voice comes out hollow and plain, absolutely unlike what it usually is.

“I did, yeah, but I also said I needed to figure it out. And we’re, um, just figuring things out. I’ll tell you when—”

You cut off with a jump as your doorbell goes off in the background.

Seokjin is there. Seokjin is at your place. To be with you. To hold you, kiss you, touch you — and probably more.

Jimin feels the floor disappear from beneath his feet. His stomach is lurching and he is free falling.

“I'll, uh, I'll be right there!” you call in the general direction of the door, casting a hesitant glance towards your phone.

Jimin's free-fall increases in velocity.

“Is that… him?” he asks in a scratchy whisper, face nothing short of horror-struck.

And when you give an almost shy nod, Jimin's brain short-circuits and he can't see a thing.

“Well, okay then! Have a great time! See ya later!”

He disconnects the call and allows his phone to drop down into the carpet beneath the chair he’s seated on.

Despite trying his hardest, Jimin can’t stop his mind from making up images of you and Seokjin entwined in bed, with you making all the sounds that Jimin elicited out of you not forty-eight hours ago.

Fuck.

He feels shaken up.

Getting up, he walks into his kitchen and grabs a bottle of water.

“It’s fine,” he tells himself. “It’s just weird because it’s too soon. Otherwise it’s good. It’ll be great. She needs this. I told her to go for it.”

He clears his throat and sips some more water.

“They’re just sleeping together, anyway. She isn’t going to fall in love with him overnight. And if she does, she’ll tell me… And I’ll support her because she’s my be–best friend in the world.”

Even as the words leave him, they scorch his insides on their way out. His brain feels fuzzy with all the misplaced anger, regret and loss he feels.

It’s half past two in the morning and Jimin is scrolling brainrot content on social media to put his mind off of the activities you might be getting up to. If you'd be in your bedroom or if you'd be in the living room, in front of the TV.

If Seokjin would be eating you out in the same spot where Jimin—

Okay, here's a video of fifteen rubber duckies! They're being squashed at the same time! They're making such a horrendous but hilarious sound!

Needless to say – he isn’t doing a great job keeping himself distracted.

Groaning at himself, he refreshes his feed and gets ready to scroll again. And then he comes to a halt.

A post from you has popped up.

It's a selfie featuring you and Kim Seokjin, seated in your car, heads tipped together in the middle of the seats, grins on your faces and cones of vanilla ice-cream in your hands. A passably normal and arguably cute picture.

Until Jimin’s eyes travel to the content below the picture.

He sits up in his bed upon spying the ‘💝’ emoji you’ve captioned the post with.

A heart emoji? You abhor those! Last time you willingly put one on your social media was way back when you were still with axolotl!

Oh…

Oh no…

Does this mean that you and Seokjin…?

And when the fuck were you planning to tell him?

Jimin needs to talk to you. Soon.

Foregoing any texts announcing his arrival, Jimin decides to steer his car towards your place, right after work on Monday. He gets off an hour later than you, so there’s no chance he won’t catch you.

But as he locks the vehicle and makes his way up your apartment, it hits him that there is a very real possibility that he might find Seokjin in there with you. And Jimin is completely unprepared to confront the man without having a conversation with you first.

So he presses the bell with his fingers crossed – and gives a sigh of relief when you open the door by yourself.

You’ve changed out of your work clothes and are dressed up in the same set of hoodie and lounge pants he saw you in during the video call, yesterday. And his urge to capture you in a hug and then smother you in kisses is back.

Stifling it all, however, Jimin focuses on the social media post he saw and allows the feeling of irritation and betrayal he felt upon spotting the heart emoji to wash over him, again.

Then he grins at you. “Surprise?”

Your gaping mouth closes on a chuckle and, rolling your eyes, you let him in. “Unannounced but not unpleasant, hey.”

Jimin resolutely looks away from the couch in your living room, unwilling to let his resolve to confront you weaken by any means, and heads straight to your kitchen table to occupy one of the bar stools.

“So. How’s work?” He asks, leaning over the counter a little, and squints at your form as you busy yourself pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

“Uh, what? Work’s work. Did you come here to ask me that?” Your head tilts to the side in a question and Jimin exhales in defeat.

“No. Obviously. I'm here to ask you about Seokjin.” You tense at that and Jimin gives a scoff. “Okay, don't you dare try to whip up a story! You didn't tell me on Saturday – fine. You barely told me anything yesterday, harsh but acceptable. But now I'm here and now I wanna know what's going on. And if you dare try to look for a way out this time, I will drive a knife through your gut.”

He didn't mean to go that dark, but your behaviour has gotten on his nerves so awfully, that he couldn't help it.

“Wha–Jimin! I told you I'm still figuring it out…” You avoid his eyes as you speak, playing with the drawstrings on your hoodie. “I'll tell you first thing when I have clarity.”

“Well, I think you do have clarity but you’re just refusing to share it with me. And you need to hurry the fuck up with that because I'm losing patience here.”

Your forehead furrows. “Hey… You can't rush me to make up my mind about someone! It's bad enough that you pushed me to go on a date with him.”

“But I'm literally not rushing you? I saw that social media post you made, and you captioned it with a…heart emoji. You never make public gestures of affection with someone so quickly, so I just wondered if you had developed actual feelings for the guy, beyond the admiration you claimed to have for him. I was concerned about you. What choices you'd made.” He looks away from your face and down at his manicured nails. “As your best friend.”

Your sharp inhale draws his attention back to your face, and he is met with a somewhat cautious expression. “Oh? So you're being a concerned friend? That's – that's the only reason why you'd like to know about me and Seokjin?”

Jimin's breath gets caught in his throat. What did you just ask him? What did you imply?

He frantically searches your face to look for cues that would guide him towards the right way to respond to your question, but all he can find is impatience and thinly veiled disappointment.

The amount of confusion he feels makes his head spin.

He can either be honest – or he can play this safe. And given the amount of risks he has taken with you recently, he would very much rather stay in the comfort zone for once, even if it means that he has to lie.

“Sure. I mean…what other reason could there be? Right?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat and your eyes lose a bit of their sparkle. Before Jimin can even begin to analyse what the hell any of it could be about, you're straightening up again with a determined set to your shoulders.

“Yeah. That's right. No other reason. None at all. You're a concerned friend, that's good. That's great.” You lick your lips and then walk around the counter to sit on the other stool, next to him. Your eyes are hesitant when they meet his own. “Because Jimin, I've been wanting to tell you something. I've thought about this throughout the weekend, and… I really, truly regret that night. What we did was stupid, careless and extremely catastrophic. We shouldn't have slept together.”

Jimin feels a part of his soul crumble and wither at those words.

His brain slows down, gaze grows heavy, and his lungs have to put in extra effort to keep his breathing steady.

Stupid, careless and extremely catastrophic.

His fingers tremble when he tries to reach for the glass of juice, so he pulls them towards his palm and forms a fist to hide them from you.

“You… why?” He hates himself for sounding as small and lost as he does. Clicking his tongue, he runs both his palms down his face and looks up to meet your saddened eyes again. “I mean it's great that you moved on the way we'd planned, but you don't have to regret the night we shared. It's okay. You can have it both ways.”

You shake your head, eyes even more sadder than before. “But I don't want to. We are supposed to be friends forever, Jimin. You and I… We can’t - I… I can’t lose you. To anything. So I can't do what you’re doing. Cherish that night's memory and behave normally. I need to forget and I need you to know that I wish it never happened. And that I'm… I'm sorry that I’m not strong enough.”

Jimin tries to swallow past his dry throat, only to cough when he can't.

It kinda sounds like you're afraid you might want him still, so you are nipping the possibility in the bud by denying that the two of you ever crossed the line. It kinda sounds like you can’t move ahead because of that night, so you wish to act as if it didn’t happen.

But you are lighter on words and heavier on nibbling your lip, so maybe you've somehow figured out how precious that memory is to Jimin and you’re just trying to spare his feelings, which – ouch.

He knew he was becoming pathetic but he didn't realise it was this pathetic.

Scoffing, Jimin gets up and shakes his head. “Don't worry, I wasn't getting any ideas about us doing a repeat of what happened, if that's what you were concerned about. I only want the two of us to resume being the best of buds and share everything the way we used to.”

“No, Jimin, that's not—I mean, you wanted me to give Seokjin a real shot and I did. And so I don’t want there to be anything that holds me back from being honest about it.”

The set of words hurt him more than they should, but he moves past them to address his main concern that you still seem to have missed. “Hey, listen to me. I didn't come here to hound you about Seokjin because I have a problem with what's going on. I came here because I have a problem with you not telling me what's going on. I have a problem with you believing you need to keep it from me for some stupid, untrue reason that you might’ve made up in your head.”

You don't say anything for a while, don't even look up to meet his gaze. Your lower lip stays between your teeth and your eyes don't look away from the kitchen counter where both your hands rest next to the untouched glass of orange juice.

And then you suddenly look up and into his eyes, determination all over your face. “You need to get a girlfriend.”

Uh.

What?

Gaping at the offputting, crooked smile that overtakes your face, Jimin slowly shakes his head as he wonders if he might've heard you wrong.

“Yeah,” you continue, nodding to yourself, “I feel guilty, Min. I’ve broken our no-dating pact, so it's only fair if you get to leave, too.”

Woah. Two dates with a guy and you've already declared your pact broken? And yet you wouldn't say a word about Seokjin beyond the fact that you’re pursuing it because Jimin asked you to.

He is quite literally too stunned to speak.

You laugh a little, looking almost nervous. “What? Don't tell me you fell in love with me or something, Min. That night was purely physical, right? We're mature enough to remember that.”

The words hit him in a bad way, because you very clearly said them in a way that was meant to hurt him. Of course it was purely physical! But nothing between the two of you can ever be without at least some semblance of emotion because you both go way back! Even the playful insults you toss at each other and the jokes you share carry affection, intimacy and meaning.

He doesn't have the slightest clue what you've been trying to do all this time, but if you truly want to rile him up and upset him tonight, he's going to forfeit and give you the satisfaction of having succeeded. He hasn't got enough mental strength to decipher the meaning of everything you're doing and then try to diffuse the grenade you've built.

So Jimin steps away from the counter and gives a loud scoff. “Don't be ridiculous. Of course not, there's no way in hell. How could I ever be in love with someone like you? Look at your emotional range and look at mine. I know, better than anyone else in the world, that you’re incapable of love. I know not to love a rock. I'm not stupid.”

Your face falls and eyes turn glossy, but Jimin can bet you aren't hurting like he is. You can't. That's one of your superpowers – compartmentalising so well, you sometimes don't even see the hurt that devastates others.

“R–right. Didn't have to insult me, but you're right.”

“Why?” Jimin scoffs. “Isn't that what our relationship is about? Being friends? Laughing together? Insulting each other?”

You frown at him. “Why're you talking like that? Why are you getting angry at me?”

Jimin blinks at your words, watching the way your eyes look truly clueless, and sheer sadness envelopes him.

Because it hits him now. Maybe you didn’t say those words to hurt him. Maybe he underestimated your inability to feel. Maybe you really don't get why it was special. Because you really didn't feel why it could be special.

Maybe nothing between the two of you has ever carried any emotion to it, for you.

You have no idea about the emotional turmoil he's been in the past two days when he couldn't get you out of your mind, because you were on a completely different page. This is why it was easy for you to go on that date and then call that guy home the next day.

The night you shared with Jimin doesn't matter to you. Jimin doesn't matter to you.

Not the way he thought. Not the way you do to him.

And his evolving feelings for you, whatever they end up becoming, would only serve to be an inconvenience in your life that you would just ask him to sort out instead of helping him wade through them because…

This is who you are.

This is who you've always been.

This is the girl he met in eighth standard, had a crush on, became lifelong friends with, had sex with, and developed more than platonic feelings for.

This is you.

He doesn’t know how to deal with this realization. He can’t deal with this sitting in your kitchen. And he can’t deal with this without a drink.

So he collects his coat and walks out of your house, ignoring your calls of his name and choosing his own sanity over you for once

#bts imagine #bts angst #jimin #park jimin #park jimin angst #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin x you #bts fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin x you #bts x you #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (13)

ー☆ Chapter 13: You Know Me Too Well

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word 'bitch' ー☆ Word count: 6.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Well, well, lovelies...new chapter is up and maybe I'm kind of kicking my feet??? Who knows, we'll see what y'all think of this chapter hehe. Also, happy birthday to Song Mingi?! I actually didn't mean to post the new chapter today, but today was the only day I had enough time to write it sooo, yeah. Tmi, but MC's mother is exactly like my mom, so maybe I drew inspiration from real life lol, I love her to death but sometimes I really wish SHE DIDNT SPEAK lol. Also, I'm so obsessed with today's song for the chapter; I'm screaming, crying, throwing up over it LOL. Just a heads up, next chapter is the last like actual chapter of the series and then I decided to add an epilogue lol cue the sobbing. As per usual, listen to You Know Me Too Well before or while reading the chapter! I hope you enjoy and let me know through feedback hehe <3 Enjoy your weekends! divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Saturday (2:55 pm)

Me: mingi can we talk?

Saturday (8:30 pm)

Me: i am free whenever you say so just let me know and i’ll be there

Sunday (9:15 am)

Me: we need to talk, mingi.

Sunday (12:08 am)

Me: please hear me out im sorry

Monday (current time)

“Do you think he’ll slam the door in my face?” The hallways were buzzing with life as I tried to veer my way around the crowd of students without running into anyone. Today, out of all days, I just so happened to have my last class of the day in a completely different building and at least a good five-minute walk away from the arts building.

“It’s what you’d deserve, to be fair, but—” The was a gasp on the other side of the phone and my eyebrows furrowed as Seulgi muttered something to someone, muffled, “sorry, Wooyoung almost dropped my mother’s favorite vase, I told him to take off that blindfold.”

Eyebrows furrowing even deeper, I abruptly stopped walking, making a girl give me a heated glare that I didn’t care for, “Why is he blindfolded? Wait! I actually don’t want to know.”

“We were playing hide and seek with his niece, you idiot, but I got bored and sneaked away when I saw you calling.” Seulgi’s voice was exasperated and I chuckled as I took off again, leaving the science major’s building as I nuzzled further into my thick scarf. Some days it was warmer, but most days it got really cold and I hated it. I couldn’t deal with the freezing weather, perhaps it was my biggest enemy after Jeong Yunho, “Anyways, as I was saying, you deserve to be ignored by Mingi, but knowing how big of a sucker he is for you, he’ll probably give in before you can utter a single word.”

My heart jumped at the thought as I gnawed on my bottom lip, cutting off the path as I hurried through the grass, uncaring that I was probably destroying the work of the gardener. Besides, the grass had barely just started growing out again, it would be fine, “You think so?”

“I know so.” I heard Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice shouting from the distance and my eyebrows furrowed as I realized Seulgi had probably put me on speaker. Now that was a bit awkward, “He’s an idiot, but he’s in love. Now that I come to think of it, you two are a lot alike, two idiots in love—”

“I believe your niece is looking for you, babe.” Seulgi cut her boyfriend off and I was thankful because I don’t think I could’ve handled hearing him say the words ‘in love’ again. That was scary, even just the thought of it. I was barely coming to terms with liking Mingi, but hearing the word love sort of made me want to turn back around and abandon my whole plan of trying to make peace between the two of us. And Seulgi knew this, thankfully, because she didn’t say anything about it again, “Are you on your way to his studio right now?”

I hummed and curled my fingers tighter around the thermos bottle, my nose cold from the weather as the arts building finally came into sight, “Yeah, three minutes and I’m there.”

“Good.” Seulgi sounded content and I sighed as I tried to ignore the dawning anxiety that tried to crawl through my body and make me abandon my well-thought-out plan. I had to do this. Seulgi and my mom were right, I couldn’t mess this up again. I liked Mingi, a lot. He is a good guy and I shouldn’t let my past and my fears dictate my life. Yes, Mingi is Yunho’s best friend, but Mingi isn’t like Yunho. Hopefully, “Update me later then, I love you Y/N, I hope you know that.”

I chuckled and nodded at the security guard as he was out of his cubicle, standing at the bottom of the steps, smoking his cigar, “I know, thank you for knocking some sense into me.”

“We’ll see about that later.” Her snort was amused and I shook my head as we said our goodbyes, the warmth of the building making me sigh out in relief as I entered through the front doors. I pocketed my phone and unwrapped my scarf from around my neck, greeting the familiar people I crossed paths with. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling nervous at all, after all, I didn’t know how Mingi would react. If he was anything like me, he wouldn’t forgive me so easily. Not when I’ve hurt him again and in the worst way possible.

As I ascended the marble stairs, I found stability in the thermos bottle clutched firmly in both of my hands now, its weight helping me to keep my determination and focus on going through with my own plan. When I woke this morning and went to take a quick shower, I was surprised to hear my mother’s singing and smell the delicious waft of pancakes, making my stomach growl loudly as I didn’t have dinner the night before. It seemed like my mother had taken a day off, grumbling something about her deserving a day to rest after she was almost choked out by one of her mentally ill patients. I couldn’t help but agree with her as we sat at the table in silence, enjoying our breakfast, that is until she cleared her throat loudly and stood up, fetching a mug and a cup from the counter next to the sink. I froze when I realized she was handing me the cup Mingi had designed with funny looking chicks on it, and I was even more confused when I realized it wasn’t coffee I was drinking, but hot chocolate.

“So, what are you going to do about that handsome fella?” I tried not to groan or regret the fact that I told her everything about Mingi. I took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate and realized it wasn’t hot before taking a bigger gulp as I enjoyed its sweet taste.

“I’ll talk to him today—”

“Great!” My mother didn’t even let me finish as she sprung up from her seat again to fetch something from a cupboard, “It’s amazing how strong our maternal intuition is, I swear my starlight, you should make some babies soon.”

“Mom.” I groaned as I watched her curiously as she took a blue thermos bottle from the cupboard and filled it with hot chocolate from the kettle, “We’ve had this discussion many times before, I’m not having children so young.”

“You’re not that young though.” She sent me a sheepish smile as my eyes widened, feigning hurt.

“I’m turning twenty-three?! How is that not young?” She cleared her throat as she sealed the thermos and walked back to the table to sit down.

“I’m just trying to inspire you, anyways,” She huffed and then placed the thermos on the table and pushed it towards me, “Bring this to him as peace offering, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I don’t think what Mingi needs right now is hot chocolate—”

“Finish your breakfast and shut up.” My mother didn’t let me finish as she cut off a thick part of the pancake with her fork and forced it inside my mouth, making me groan, “Mothers know best when it comes to stuff like this, be thankful I’m saving your relationship and be back before lunch. I’m ordering take out, and I certainly am not waiting for late your ass if I’m hungry.”

I knew fighting my mom was fruitless, so I just grumbled an okay as I tried to chew the pancake she had forced in my mouth, my cheeks all puffed out. My mother seemed content that I finally wasn’t talking back to her and I shook my head as I pulled the thermos bottle towards me, reminded of the time when Mingi had brought me tea knowing that I would be feeling probably a little sick after getting all soaked in the cold rain and harsh wind.

So, now, with Mingi’s clothes in my tote bag and the thermos filled with hot chocolate in my hands, I couldn’t help but feel optimistic despite the anxiety gripping at my thoughts. If my mother, Seulgi, and even Wooyoung—who knew Mingi like the back of his hand—were convinced that everything would work out just fine, then why would I not believe that? Sure, Mingi was probably still annoyed at me, but I didn’t think a few apologies and even more explanations couldn’t fix the issue at hand. All I had to do was be honest and come clean with my feelings and he’d probably do the same and then—that’s where anxiety stepped in. Then what? Was I ready to pursue a relationship? Did Mingi want to date me? Did I want to date him? Why did it have to be Jeong Yunho’s best friend I was into? Why could I not move past my fears and stop associating Mingi with everything I was wounded by, when he never once made me feel like Yunho did? I could dwell on these thoughts for an eternity, I fear, but I didn’t have that time right now. And to be fair, I didn’t want to think of such things right now because I could feel my determination wither the closer I got to the music majors’ floor, heartbeat loud in my ears.

I stopped at the end of the hallway and took a deep breath, eyes settling on the studio I knew now was used by Mingi only. Wooyoung was nice enough to tell me the number of his studio—not that I had forgotten since the last time I was here—and he also let me know that it was used by Mingi only, the teachers having granted him full access, even at hours when students were supposed to be at home. It seems so Mingi was a favorite amongst the teachers, and I could see why. He was diligent and hard-working; his lyrics were beautiful and nothing would stop him from fulfilling his dream of becoming a well-known rockstar. I couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of that, and hoped that I would be part of his journey, that he’d let me back into his life.

Steeling my nerves and trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew there was no turning back. I wanted to do this, I had to do this. I had to stop sabotaging myself, and so, I marched down the hallway towards Mingi’s studio with a newfound hope and determination. Which lasted about five seconds as I came face to face with Mingi’s studio door. There was a small window on it, which would let you know whether the room was occupied or not, and it was straight across the desk where he was sat at—with the blonde girl standing right next to him. And that should have been okay, because really, Mingi could talk to whoever and spend his time also with whoever he pleased. And it’s not like I didn’t have male friends—I didn’t, Seulgi was my only friend—it’s not like he couldn’t speak to one of his fans. After all, he’s made it clear she was nothing more than a fan he appreciated for helping spread the word about his band.

But then, why was her hand on his shoulder one second and the next second slowly trailing down the sleeve of his beige cardigan—which looked like it was messily stained with paint—and certainly the way my good disposal dissipated and was overtaken by blind jealousy and rage had nothing to do with the sudden possessiveness that shook me to my core. And perhaps the thing that bothered me the most wasn’t even her feeling up Mingi’s arm as she looked down at him with sultry eyes, perhaps it was the way Mingi leaned back in his chairs, legs spread wide, and smirk on his lips as he looked up at her with his sharp gaze, allowing her to touch him. Perhaps that’s what sent me over the edge as I barged inside the studio in the most unceremonious way, making the girl yelp in fright and Mingi flinch as his eyes widened.

『Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well』

And when I was angry—or panicking, or hurt—all rational thoughts flew out the window as I was led by nothing else but pure instinct and a shit ton of unclear and not so necessarily nice thoughts. Simpler put, I wasn’t thinking nor making sense, but I couldn’t care less as I glared at the both of them while I struggled to mask the fury licking at my veins. They were both looking at me wide eyed, as if I had caught them doing something I wasn’t supposed to, and that made me snap before I could think through how to proceed with this whole shitshow, “Get out.”

For a second, even I didn’t recognize my voice as it dropped a few octaves, fierce gaze set on the blonde girl as she paled, eyes scrambling between Mingi and me as, suddenly, Mingi seemed to snap out of whatever scare I had given him by slamming his door open and into the wall. God, I hope I haven’t actually damaged it, because I certainly didn’t have the money to pay for it right now. I couldn’t look at the blonde girl anymore, heart beating fast in my chest as Mingi and I made eye contact, his eyebrows set in a deep frown as he had a sneer on his face.

“Excuse me?” God, even her voice was annoying. I looked back at the blonde girl and raised my eyebrows at her mockingly.

“Are you deaf?” I chuckled, but it was humorless, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

She huffed, looking offended—rightfully so—and I gritted my teeth as I stepped inside the studio, making it pretty obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere before this bitch left. I tried not to see red as Mingi’s hands balled up into fists or the way the girl snickered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You’re the one that’s barged inside uninvited, sweetheart,” And if I could have, I would have ripped her blonde strands out, “this isn’t your fucking studio, so, shut up. Mingi wants me here, maybe you should leave.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing, somewhere deep in my mind realizing I looked absolutely psychotic and if Mingi didn’t hate me before, he certainly would hate me now. I wasn’t helping myself; I was making everything worse—just the usual, then. But this bitch wasn’t stopping me from getting what I came here for, and I hummed as my eyes fell on Mingi again, who’s jaw was clenching and unclenching. His sharp eyes were narrowed, but it seemed like he wasn’t saying anything anytime soon and that only pissed me off more.

“Sure,” I nodded and walked further inside, forcefully throwing my tote bag on the small couch against the wall on my left, making the contents of it spill out. I watched as both Mingi and the girl looked at the clothes, and Mingi’s expression flashed with something unreadable for a second, “Mingi wants you here.”

I suppose neither expected me not to stop until I reached the desk, coming up on Mingi’s left side as I slammed the thermos bottle—albeit too harshly—against the desk, a loud bang echoing in the room. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to tell the girl to leave again, but suddenly, he was up on his feet, staring me down. The height difference wasn’t that great between the two of us, but suddenly I felt small under his heated glare and sneer that seemed to settle on his lips, broad shoulders intimidating as he lowered his head just a little bit. He looked nothing like the Mingi I had gotten to know over the past few months, and it made my heart race as I realized I might not be able to reason with him today, “What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?! You tell her to get out when you barge in unwelcomed, and then start demanding for her to leave—”

I couldn’t even let him finish his sentence before I was firing back my argument, “Oh, what’s my fucking problem?! Maybe the fact that you lied to me?”

“About what?!” Mingi snapped, eyebrows furrowed as he took a step towards me, his body big enough to make the blonde girl not be seen behind him.

“Oh, be for real.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “You never show anyone your songs to? But you so conveniently let me listen to that unfinished song of yours and now look who else gets to listen to it? Her. If you’re so desperate to get laid, you should have—”

“I didn’t show her shit.” Mingi cut me off, voice shaking as his cheeks grew red from anger, probably. Mingi wasn’t a scary person, but he looked scary right now. There was no ounce of kindness in his expression nor tone, he looked cold and angry and like he hated me. I gulped and realized, once again, that I was digging myself deeper into the shithole I had created for myself, that I was hurting him again and again. This is not how things were supposed to go, “I only showed you. That unfinished song you’re talking about, only you know about it. Thanks for reminding me again why I shouldn’t deal with you anymore—”

“Stop it.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as I felt fear grip at my throat, making my voice sound shaky as Mingi’s expression went blank. I hated when he did that. I wanted to know what he was thinking about, I needed to see what he felt. I couldn’t do this if he withdrew himself, I couldn’t do this if I was the only one that would bare her heart to him. I was scared. He was pushing me away like Yunho had done, Mingi was abandoning me.

“Stop it?” If I wanted to cry when he laughed in my face mockingly, impassive smirk settling on his lips, I didn’t let it happen. I kept my composure, anger, hurt, desperation, yearning all mixing together as I found it harder and harder to breathe, “You want me to be nice to you after all the shit you said to me on Saturday? You want me to treat you like before after everything that’s happened? I can’t. You hurt me, made me feel like a fucking idiot, Y/N, you broke—I thought we were friends. I feel disrespected and played, and yet here you are again, acting like you have even an ounce of right to act the way you are right now, when it’s you who made it so fucking clear you want nothing to do with me anymore. Do you enjoy making others suffer? Do you want to see me on my fucking knees begging for your attention? I have enough self-respect to step back and move on with my life when someone so blatantly tells it to my face that I am nothing—”

“But you aren’t!” My tone raised without me meaning to as my heart continued to beat out of my chest so fast my ears started ringing. I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to victimize myself, I just wanted Mingi to understand I made a mistake, that I knew I did, and that I was trying to fix things. I didn’t want us to part ways, especially not like this, he made me realize this second that I didn’t want to lose him, “You aren’t nothing to me. I said those things because I’m scared. I don’t know how to navigate these feelings—”

“Save it, okay?” I was left gaping as Mingi shook his head, pushing his hands in the pockets of his light denim jeans, “I don’t want to hear whatever sob shit you have to say right now, I’m asking you kindly to leave before I call security and delete my number, like I have deleted yours.”

The silence that settled upon us was deafening and my eyebrows furrowed as a tear rolled down my cheek without warning, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to find my breath. That hurt, it hurt more than anything before, it hurt more than when Yunho left me, broke my heart. Mingi meant so much more to me than Yunho ever did, and I bit my lower lip as Mingi seemed unaffected, expression blank and rather bored. Nothing was making sense anymore. I was scared, but I also felt ready to break free of the chains of the past, I wanted Mingi. And knowing all this, I didn’t want to hold back anymore, I didn’t want to consider my next words anymore. I just wanted to speak my mind freely.

“My ex-boyfriend is Jeong Yunho, your best friend.” Mingi had almost turned away from me, but he froze, head slowly turning back to face me once again, “We dated back in high school, many years ago, when we were still some headless and stupid teenagers. But he was the first boy I’ve ever loved and he fucking broke my heart, shattered into pieces with a bright smile on his lips. He promised me many things, and I was naïve, so I believed it all. And because I did, I ended up hurt beyond fixing and I’ve never trusted a man again. He was my first boyfriend and the center of my universe, yet he never cared enough about me to properly break up with me.

“Yunho talked about you all the time. Everything you liked, everything you hated, you were part of our daily conversations and I always wished to meet you, to see what was so great in you that had Yunho gushing all the time. I was jealous, so jealous that I became bitter. I started hating even the mention of your name, I selfishly wanted Yunho to myself, and you gone from his life. I couldn’t understand what was so great about you and why I wasn’t enough. I knew Yunho didn’t love me, but I wanted him to, so I made myself believe it, believe that I was worth more to him than you’ll ever be. And in the process, I stupidly made myself believe that he’d never leave me, that he was the one for me like he has said so many times before.

“He broke my heart so fucking bad that it took years until I could say his name or even see his face again. I am over him now, have been for a long time, but I can’t help still feel bitter about him. I can’t help but associate you with him at times. He made me defensive and untrusting of men, I couldn’t help but assume you’d be just like Yunho when I first met you, at least when I finally realized who you were. I felt so guilty, I tried to push you away but you wouldn’t fucking give up. You are everything yet nothing like Yunho and that scares me, because I want you, Mingi. But I’m scared you’ll abandon me like Yunho did, that you’ll fill my head with empty and pretty fantasies and then leave me alone with them, tearing my heart apart in the process. I want to open up, but I’m scared. I think, however, with you by my side, I’d be able to do that, to let my walls down.”

The silence that settled upon us, once again, was deafening and I gulped, heart racing and making me feel lightheaded as Mingi’s face had fallen, expression finally not as void as before. He looked shocked, but surprisingly, he didn’t look hurt nor like he would hate me for ever. It made me hopeful for a second, it made me sniff loudly and blink away the insisting tears from my eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath, making me stare in his eyes, hopeful and less scared, as he sighed and rubbed at his chin; a stubble was showing. Now that I come to think of it, he looks rather tired with bags under his eyes, and his platinum hair has a blue hue to it.

“I’m sorry he made you go through so much; I know it wasn’t easy.” Mingi’s tone finally lost the edge it had before, finally it wasn’t laced with so much anger, and it almost made me cry, “I kind of—I knew. Not exactly the whole thing, but I suppose I can say I had a feeling that there was history between you and Yunho. It was too obvious whenever I brought him up that you didn’t like him, at first I was confused, but then I suppose everything just clicked into place. The drawing of his eyes, the sweater you lent me and the fact that you gave it to me in the end—I’ve known since then that it was probably Yunho. I never said anything to him, not like that at least, I wanted you to come to me on your own, when you fully trusted me with the information. And I’m sorry, but he—he was an asshole back in high school, he was insecure and he played with everyone’s feelings, he was quite good at manipulating people around him. He’s mentioned dating you, but very few times, and by the time you had broken up I had all but forgotten about you, I suppose I wasn’t much better compared to him.

“But all of this isn’t my fault in the end, and while I completely understand your reasoning now and why you often acted the way you did, I’m sorry, but I can’t just let go of things and start anew. There’s just—too many things that have happened, emotions that you stirred up in me, and I just can’t do it, I—it’s not even about you and Yunho, I don’t give a fuck about it, it was ages ago and Yunho is a changed man and I know he’s long moved on. And you too, I believe you have, you seemed less bitter lately, but I just can’t. I can’t help but ask again, what do you want, YN?”

At least he wasn’t mad at me, but I did feel ashamed that I made him piece everything together on his own, that I wasn’t capable of telling him the truth myself. I have made mistakes, sure, but Mingi apparently didn’t hate me for them, “I just want to apologize, for everything.”

Mingi nodded and I watched in despair as that cold mask slipped back onto his face, expression void of any emotion once again. It made me want to grab his shoulders and shake them, force him to look deep into my eyes and just see everything I felt for him, “That’s fine, I accept your apology. If that’s all, you can leave—”

“But that’s not all!” I snapped, having had enough of being dismissed by him. I saw the way his jaw twitched, the way his eyebrows furrowed at my defiance, at my reluctance to leave just yet. I was being pathetic and a pain in the ass, but I had to make him understand that I was ready to leave all my fears behind for him, to learn how to be a better person next to him. I wanted to change, and I wanted it to happen with him by my side, with him guiding me and teaching me how to be more like him, and less like the shitty person I was for so long. I longed to be the way I was before meeting Yunho, a lot happier and a lot less broody and hateful of the beautiful things that surrounded me, “Mingi, I cannot stop thinking about you. I spend every waking moment when we’re apart wondering what you’re up to, what’s going through your mind, whether you’re okay or not. And I’ve been drawing you, since the first time I saw you, you’ve captured my attention, you’ve made me curious of who you were the longer we spent time together. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I don’t want to hurt you anymore and shut you out, I want to fix everything. I want to—I just want you, Mingi.”

There was a quiet scoff behind Mingi, but neither one of us reacted to it as our gazes bore into each other, my eyes glinting with yearning and his façade slowly breaking down as he released a shaky breath, “Mingi, I adore you.”

“Get out.” For a second, my body froze as I thought he was addressing me, but then, he whirled around and pointed towards the studio’s still open door, “Get out, now.”

And I just realized that the blonde girl had been witness to everything, and I couldn’t help but blanch in embarrassment as she made to interject, but I guess Mingi’s sharp eyes made her reconsider her choice as she huffed and then stormed out of the studio. My cheeks felt hot and I realized the clothes were making me sweaty, so as Mingi hurried towards the door to close it, I shrugged my jacket off and placed it neatly on the back of the sofa together with my thick scarf. And as I looked up, mouth dry as the door clicked shut and Mingi turned around, it felt like time stopped, like the world stopped moving. But Mingi was moving towards me, in nothing more than three steps he stood in front of me, and before I could even as much as try to reason with him or plead more to be forgiven, warm fingers dug into my cheeks and the wind was knocked from my lungs as his plush warm lips slammed against mine, making me gasp as my eyes remained wide open.

『Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you』

I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, I thought he’d tell me that he needed time to forgive me completely and for us to work things out. But I couldn’t help shudder and feel ecstatic as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and cardigan, my eyes falling shut, as I pulled him closer to my body, savoring the kiss as if it was our first. But it wasn’t anything like that one, it wasn’t soft nor careful nor slow, it was hurried and desperate as Mingi pushed me backward, pressing me against the wall, right between the small space between the sofa and the desk. My arms circled his neck as he grabbed my nape with one big hand and pressed his other into the small of my back, making it arch as my fingers tangled into his soft hair, not pulling, just feeling the need to hold onto something, to keep myself grounded.

And much like the first time, our lips seemed to fit perfectly, and I tried not to keen when he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh, and I tried not to turn into a puddle when he hummed lowly against my lips as my fingers flexed in his hair. Perhaps I kissed him a bit harder and more aggressively as our pace quickened, my hand holding the side of his neck as Mingi pressed his body into mine until it felt like he was trying to forbid me even of the idea of escaping from his clutches, and I had no fucking intention of going anywhere, because in his arms I felt content and safe, and perhaps a bit too hot as goosebumps covered my arms the longer our lips moved hungrily against each other. And when I cupped his cheeks and perhaps held onto them a bit too firmly, his lips parted, and I ignored my lungs screaming for air as my tongue slipped past his parted mouth. I didn’t expect him to moan as our tongues tangled together, all wet and perhaps a little disgusting, but neither one of us cared about that.

I tried to stand on my tip toes for better access as Mingi’s ring clad fingers were suddenly running through my hair and tilting my head back, making my skin tingle where he held my hip firmly. I had been kissed by other people before, but neither felt like with Mingi, neither made me crave more and more and more. But our lungs could only go on so long without air, and I would’ve been embarrassed for the loud gasp I let out when we finally parted, if it wasn’t for Mingi diving straight for my neck and finding the sweet spot that made me putty in his arms. And I tried to ignore his deep grunts as my fingers got tangled in his platinum blonde strands as he pressed open mouthed and wet kisses against my neck, his arms around my hips pulling me into an embrace that had my pulse showing through the skin of my neck. My lips were tingling and my lungs actually hurt, but I couldn’t care less when Mingi finally pulled back and blinked his dark eyes open, pupils dilated and lips so swollen he almost made me chase after them once again.

『Oh, just to see what you'd do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you』

“What’s in the thermos?” His voice was raspier than usual, and it made me bite my bottom lip as my eyes searched his face, his falling on my lips instead.

“Hot chocolate, for peace making.” I answered, sounding a lot more breathless than I actually felt, and Mingi chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and instead circled them around his torso, trying to fight off the smile from my lips. Mingi didn’t look angry nor dismissive anymore, but I knew I wasn’t actually forgiven just yet. And that was only fair.

“This is peacemaking, not the hot chocolate.” And there it was, the mischievous glint in his eyes and the smug smirk on his lips as he squeezed my hips once and lowered his face until our lips brushed together, “Although I do appreciate the hot chocolate too.”

“Good, my mom was rather excited when she told me to give it to you.” I pressed a chaste kiss against Mingi’s lips before he could try and say anything, and he chuckled when I pulled away, eyes creasing and crooked front teeth showing.

“What are we now?” His voice was a mere whisper, not insecure nor scared, just wondering, “What do you want?”

I gulped, but decided to be honest. No more hiding my feelings and thoughts from him, “I don’t know just yet, and that’s why I need you to take the lead, but this—I want more of this, of you.”

“Good,” Mingi hummed, lips pursed as he kissed my cheek once before slowly releasing me from his warm embrace, “because I’ve been wanting more of you for fucking ages, doll.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as suddenly I felt embarrassed and perhaps a little shy, but Mingi seemed to be unphased as he grabbed my tote bag and looked through it because his clothes were in it, “You can keep these, they looked better on you anyway. But you better not give them to Yunho if he ever happens to go over to your house—”

“Mingi.” I snapped mortified and pushed his arm as he dropped the tote bag and burst out laughing, giving me a cheeky smile.

“Want to hear the rest of the song I made for you?”

“For me?”

“Yeah, doll, for you.”

By the time I managed to get home I might as well been on cloud nine and in so much ecstasy that one would think I was on drugs. Which, kind of felt like it after the day I have had—not that I’ve ever done any drugs. I failed to notice my mother’s silhouette in the window of our kitchen when I got out of Mingi’s car and, of course, that meant she saw him get out of his old Honda Prelude and jog after me to kiss me hard and leave me dizzy before he left. And all of that, of course, meant that by the time I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, my mother was leaning against the archway of the kitchen with the widest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“So, did you have sex?”

My eyes widened in mortification and I struggled to step out of my boots and shrug off my jacket, “Mom!”

“So, you did, huh.” It wasn’t even a question, and suddenly running after Mingi’s car sounded a lot better than standing in front of my mother as she bit her bottom lip, giving me a wink.

“We didn’t!” I exclaimed, cheeks flushed a deep red as I cradled the tote bag to my chest, “He needs to take me out on a date first—many dates, actually.”

“Well, he better hurry up then cuz you’re glowing and you’re happy.” I froze at my mother’s words as she looked at me with a serene expression on her face, lips pulled into a small smile, forgetting all about her previous teasing, “He’s good for you, too good. I haven’t seen you so relaxed and happy since—since highschool.”

Since Yunho broke up with me.

“I know, and I will make sure I never hurt him again.” I told my mom and she hummed, looking down at her wristwatch.

“You missed lunch, by the way, so you’ll eat chicken tenders—”

“Again?!”

“Again, exactly. Go wash up before dinner.”

And I was out of her sight in no time, with a newfound rush in my system, skin tingling as I realized I craved to hold my pencil and my sketchbook in my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I drew something for me and not because it was an assignment. And if hours later the sketch looked a lot like a familiar platinum blonde haired man with sharp eyes and a tall nose wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a beige cardigan over it, accessories many and nails painted black, then I wouldn’t even deny it anymore. Perhaps he would love seeing my drawings. Perhaps I should finally show him.

Mings 🖤: date on wednesday? Me: but im paying this time Mings 🖤: so when we went to the pottery coffee shop it was a date wasnt it, doll Me: maybe it was maybe it wasnt Mings 🖤: no maybes this time

『Oh, but you know me too well

Oh, but you know me too well, well』

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strawberryya · 1 year ago

Text

The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of.

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?”

She only got weaker after that.

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden.

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors.

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body?

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone.

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds.

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone.

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue.

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.”

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling.

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you.

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind.

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known.

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush.

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner.

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting.

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you.

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand.

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?”

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?”

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him.

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare.

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying.

He was right, he isn’t a stranger.

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?”

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.”

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out.

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door.

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”.

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!”

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio.

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again.

You hated him.

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time?

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout.

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him.

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once.

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard.

“And you came here to help me?”

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced.

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips.

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply.

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t.

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.”

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him.

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake.

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing.

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent.

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you.

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.”

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing?

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals.

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore.

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel.

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore.

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least.

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended.

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…?

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up.

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?”

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand.

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure.

Will he fulfill them all?

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her?

“I agree.”

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation.

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans.

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

#kwritersworldnet #thrill of the hunt #yunho smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho angst #ateez x reader #atz #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez yunho

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ikatakoirl · 2 years ago

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We need to normalize criticizing our favorite works, pointing out shortcomings in representation while simultaneously celebrating how far that representation has come. I’ll go first.

The Riordanverse (Percy Jackson and its spin-offs) is hands-down one of the best examples of mainstream queer representation for kids. It was probably the biggest formative element of my early queer journey, and I am so grateful for everything Rick Riordan has done for the community. I will continue to support him and his works with all of my heart.

That being said, he has a problem with squeezing his representation into the very last pages of the book, confirmed but not explored. We have three confirmed queer relationships involving demigods:

Nico and Will, confirmed in the last chapter of the series

Piper and Shel, confirmed on the very last page of The Burning Maze.

Magnus and Alex, confirmed in the last chapter of the series (they did kiss a bit earlier)

P.S. I forgot about Lavinia until just before posting, but her entire lesbianism also is introduced and concluded in the span of about a page.

As you can see, it’s extremely consistent. Like I said, these are the only three examples of queer teenage relationships over Riordan’s five series, and they all happen right at the end. We also find that most of the straight pairings (Percy/Annabeth, Frank/Hazel, Jason/Piper, Tyson/Ella, and even things like Hedge/Mellie are confirmed in the middle of the series and given room to grow our at least be referenced back to.

It’s unclear whether this was a conscious or unconscious decision. Perhaps Riordan felt constrained by his publisher. Perhaps he was afraid that he didn’t have the proper background knowledge to accurately write the details of a queer relationship. Both of these are understandable and valid, if a bit disappointing, and I would much rather that he wrote them as he did than not at all.

However…

The good news is that it seems like he’s trying to fix it! He sprinkled in enough of Will and Nico in the first book of the sequel series Trials of Apollo for me to forgive him for their lackluster confirmation in Heroes of Olympus. But then he surprised us all by making Nico and Will two of the five main characters on the Trials of Apollo’s finale (The Tower of Nero), and I can tell you that the fandom ate it up!

But in case that wasn’t enough, soon after the release of The Tower of Nero, Riordan announced The Sun and the Star, now set for release this May! In this book, Nico and Will are the protagonist and deuteragonist, meaning the story will be entirely focused around them! And just to make sure Riordan absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s decided to co-write it with a gay author Mark Oshiro to make sure they can represent the characters accurately!

And… and the best part… Riordan has done his fair share of novellas and short stories, and ever since the announcement I had assumed that that’s what this was, but no! It’s a full-length book with 480 pages! To compare, that’s strangely enough the exact same page count as The Tower of Nero! I’m so blown away by how much Riordan has gone above and beyond with this book, and I’m insanely excited for it. Sorry this turned into The Sun and the Star propoganda, I didn’t know that the publication date was so close or how long it was until just now.

Anyway, where I’m going with this is that I have extreme respect for a creator who’s willing to listen to feedback from the kinds of people he is writing about and constantly grow from those mistakes! He’s still by far my favorite author of all time. Love you, Uncle Rick!

#lgbtq #rick riordan #solangelo #nico do angelo #will solace #magnus chase #alex fierro #piper mclean #percy jackon and the olympians #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #the sun and the star

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personasintro · 2 years ago

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I have never seen asks from writers themselves so here are some words from a writer to a writer.

I am the type of writer who likes to torture her characters with constant angst and the kind of reader that gets bored when the main couple gets together too soon. I am like, "Oh, so what now? We should await an upcoming tragedy at least...right?". So I like the fact your characters can't seem to take a break from intense moments haha. We love our characters, but we also appreciate a rough journey from which they come out stronger. I, also, like flaws. I like the realism thrown into their personalities (but not necessarily on the worldbuilding. Always depends on the book genre), making them do all kind of embarrassing or any kind of mistakes, because we are writing about humans. My protagonist will be likable by me when they fail a lot, not when luck comes banging on their door, making them special. So, I love how not only Y/N has flaws but Jungkook also has a right in them. Readers sometimes like the male character to be flawless and the protagonist is always excused but that's unfair. If I were Jungkook, perhaps I'd react a lot worse and that is to be expected. So, Jungkook is a nice balance of a flawed human and a perfect friend. We have different type of flaws and traits depending on each of our social roles. He raises standards while remaining humane. And that's how you write characters realistically. So, I've read about your opinion on keeping your plot yours and not be affected by what the readers want to read and I couldn't agree more. End it the way you want, 'cause that's the thing with uploading books online; people think they have a say on your work. Traditionally, if this was written and published, people would have it completed on their hands, only capable of giving feedback, not orders on how to end it. Lastly, I really like your writing style. I like details on expressions, actions and thoughts, even body language and you always deliver. I loved the last chapter, it was a break from the smut and to me, that's another smart way to keep the events going ;) Otherwise, we'd go back to the same type of chapters. Keep up the good work and always write for the pleasure! -K (In case I write again, I'm leaving my mark haha)

I’ve been planning to respond to this ask for the longest time ever and I’m sorry I only got to it now 🥺

This is (hands down) one of the loveliest messages I’ve received in a while. It’s so precious to hear nice things from anyone, but it’s rare to hear it from another writer. I’m aware most of us can relate to things some readers might not & I’m very grateful that you’ve reached out to me! It truly means a lot and it’s like a piece of calmness to my heart 🪷

Just huge thank you that you get it! There’s nothing for me to add, you’ve written it all 💘 Once again, thank you! And I do hope I’ll hear from you again K!

#K anon #💜

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mydearestbeloved · 1 month ago

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I've really been enjoying the story up until now but the last few asks have kinda made me hesitant, especially your explanation/idea of both the bittersweet ending and rough concept of your guide AU. I understand they're just that - ideas and concepts, but honestly they're just making me not want to continue reading your story tbh. I'm here for an x reader with a happy ending, which is what I kinda thought this was?? (Sorry if I misunderstood or something lol). Like you're writing an AU, nothing says you have to be so canon compliant and include JinHae (even to a small degree), but also it's your story and you're allowed to do whatever you like, but I also think it's totally fair for us as readers to ask that you kinda include that since the beginning so we don't get invested and then sorta disappointed when we don't want to continue reading. Kinda sucks but live and learn I guess. I think you're a great writer and I've loved looking forward to your posts but you should probably have a concrete idea of an ending before you start writing the story to avoid situations like these in the future. Good luck to you and all the best

Hi there! First of all, thank you so much for your kind words about my writing and for sharing your honest feedback. I truly appreciate that you took the time to voice your thoughts, and I completely understand where you're coming from.

To clarify: the Trial Player AU will have a Happy Ending.

Addressing the Bittersweet Ending Discussion

No, you didn’t misunderstand. The Trial Player AU will have a Happy Ending.

The topic of the bittersweet ending actually originated from a discussion in the comments section, and I understand that not everyone may have seen the full context. My apologies for not making things clearer earlier! The increased interest and back-to-back questions about the bittersweet concept got me overly excited to share and expand on the idea, which might have made it seem like I was changing the story’s direction. I assure you, that’s not the case.

From the start, I’ve been leaning toward a Happy Ending as the canon ending. While I’ve brainstormed multiple possibilities (Happy, Bittersweet, and Bad Endings), the Happy Ending is the focus of the main story, and I’m not planning to change that. In fact, I already have drafts for side stories that build on the Happy Ending.

The bittersweet ending came up as part of my thought process for an initial idea for a sequel (Guide AU in the context of Solo Leveling: Ragnarok). That idea stemmed from the bittersweet route, but even then, it was an early concept that I never fully committed to and am already working on revising to better align with the Happy Ending. I’m so sorry for any misunderstanding this has caused!

Regarding Jinwoo x Hae-In

The mention of Jinwoo x Hae-In was also part of the bittersweet route discussion, but I want to emphasize that I don’t plan to delve deeply into their relationship in this story. The closest we’ll get is perhaps Jinwoo/Reader/Hae-In or just Jinwoo/Reader featuring Cha Hae-In.

In this story, Jinwoo is already deeply attached to Trial Player!Reader, even if he hasn’t fully realized the extent of his feelings yet. Likewise, TP!Reader and Hae-In already share a strong foundation of mutual respect and camaraderie. Even in a hypothetical situation (emphasis on hypothetical), their bond wouldn’t be easily broken, as Hae-In and TP!Reader found each other long before Jinwoo officially entered the picture.

Jinwoo x Hae-In is only mentioned in the story because of TP!Reader’s internal struggle to align herself with the canon events she remembers, as well as the system nudging her toward a canon-compliant path. However, this is tied to a deeper plot that will become clearer as the story progresses.

Again, I’m so sorry for the confusion and for making it seem like the Happy Ending wasn’t the focus of the story. I’ll be more mindful of clearly communicating my plans moving forward. I’m incredibly grateful that you’ve enjoyed the story up to now, and I hope this clarification helps ease any concerns. Thank you again for your support, feedback, and patience—it really means the world to me! 💖

#Hollow's Talks #Trial Player AU #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #solo leveling fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fem reader

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lex-munro · 2 months ago

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[More Like Grand-Ish: Part 7] Cake

OPLA ZoSan randomness continues; Sanji’s POV and speech use UK English.

A teeny little flangsty tidbit as a treat for morale.

Timeline is shortly after Alabasta, in that nebulous pre-Water-7 period that’s ripe for filler arcs—let’s call it about two weeks after Reverie. Yes, they will go to Skypeia. No, I don't know if I'll write anything set there.

The layout of the Merry is kind of a hybrid—her upper decks are set up like OPLA, with the tangerines on the poop deck and the helm on the quarterdeck instead of in the galley, but her lower decks are set up like the official blueprint from the manga/anime.

Canon divergent/universe alterations, gay!Zoro and anything-that’s-pretty-enough!Sanji, Zoro still hasn’t warmed up to Miss All-Sunday (but she’s used to being stoned out of town so his relatively gentle grumpiness is a Nice Change), Sanji tends not to think about how his actions make men (especially Zoro) feel, Zoro thinks if he says it enough times he’ll stop being upset, ubiquitous bad language. Recognizeable characters belong to Netflix, Oda, Jump, etc.

***

Cake

Sanji was only trying to be nice. Really. Miss Robin had turned a new leaf, was no longer the dastardly ‘Miss All-Sunday.’ She’d needed somewhere to belong, and the Going Merry was a place for all kinds of misfits. The world’s greatest archeologist, wanted from childhood for the crime of surviving genocide, seemed like a fine fit (certainly most of them had come to value her company and expertise).

And also, she was beautiful and had very nice breasts.

(Which was unrelated to her value as a human being and how much she genuinely deserved compassion after her ordeals, of course. It was just a bonus…a pair of very nice bonuses.)

He needed to test his recipe if it was ever going to be a staple in his fantasy-restaurant, after all, and a refined lady like Miss Robin would be able to give constructive feedback (Vivi would’ve been ideal, obviously, but Alabasta was far behind them now).

But Zoro, it seemed, was taking the whole thing the wrong way, and was extremely…something. Pissed off? Jealous? Hurt? Sanji couldn’t quite tell, but it was bad.

“I know I haven’t won him over just yet,” Robin said kindly. “I’ll have to wait for a chance to prove myself, that’s all.”

Sanji, staring at the door of the galley (recently slammed after dark, assessing eyes went from Sanji to Robin to the cake), grimaced. “I don’t think it’s necessarily a case of winning the mosshead over.”

She looked at him, ate another bite of cake, and casually said, “I don’t think much of a man who upsets his lover and doesn’t go after him.”

That flustered him slightly, because for the first three days she was on the ship, she didn’t seem to have noticed that he and Zoro were an item (possibly because of the low-level bickering that had gone on about her general presence and whether they should dump her in the sea to drown), and even after public affection and a week of bedrest and doting, she had never even referred obliquely to their relationship.

Robin set her fork down and sighed. “Mister Cook, please don’t take this the wrong way—only a damn fool wouldn’t run after him when he looked like that over you serving me a slice of cake. You clearly have some things to sort out, or perhaps his needs aren’t being met—I’m sure I don’t know. But you should go. Now.”

Sanji grunted, but went out to follow her frankly good advice.

Would Zoro be in the men’s cabin, pretending to sleep? Sulking in the crow’s nest? Sunning himself on the deck? A glance up the mast showed Usopp surveying the horizon with the spyglass. At the helm, Miss Nami made a face and pointed.

Sanji went behind and below as directed, and found Zoro stretched out beside the tangerines on the poop deck with his eyes closed.

“I know you’re not asleep,” Sanji said carefully. “Your jaw’s clenched too tight. I can hear your teeth grinding.”

“Then go somewhere else,” Zoro said bluntly.

“Okay, you’re upset, I get that—”

“I’m not upset.”

“Yeah, sure, ‘cos you always stomp away in a huff and then tell me to piss off afterward when you’re not upset.”

“Why would I be upset?” Zoro asked without opening his eyes. “You’ve always liked pretty girls, and I’ve never liked sweets, so of course you’d give some pretty woman who tried to kill us and destroy a whole country the first taste of the cake you’re gonna make at your restaurant someday.”

Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed a frustrated growl before it could fully escape. “Exactly. Even leaving aside that unfair oversimplification of what happened in Alabasta, why would I make you test something you probably won’t like?”

“For the restaurant you keep saying would be on our ship,” Zoro added.

“But you don’t like—” Sanji said, and had to stop himself before he went from frustrated to angry.

“I said I’m not upset,” Zoro insisted. “I went a month without you, back at Tuni; I can wait however long it takes you to either get bored with her or decide I’m not worth the bother.”

“That is fucking bullshit, and you’re being completely unfair.”

“Right, because your track record with shiny new girls is great. Currently, the longest is two weeks, because we almost never stay in one place for more than a week, and Vivi had to stay in Alabasta. I still don’t know who should be more insulted by your fawning: them or me.”

And Sanji had no argument for that. It was true, he would absolutely neglect Zoro if there was a lovely young lady present. He suddenly felt ashamed of making Zoro doubt him. His boyfriend, his lover, the man he came home to every night and wanted to grow old with, was still waiting for the time Sanji looked away at some girl and never looked back.

“I understand,” Zoro said earnestly. “They’re fancy, and delicate, and graceful. They’re clean, and polite, and…and they’re not boring, obsessive wet blankets. Of course you’d rather spend time with them. Just don’t fucking lie about it. Don’t pretend like I’m fun to be around, or whatever.”

“You are, though,” Sanji said. “I mean—not fun, exactly, but I like being around you. Wanting to be around them doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. You can want more than one thing, and so can I.”

Zoro flashed a thin smile, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah. Because I’m too much and not enough at the same time. Story of my fuckin’ life.”

“You’re not—will you please stand up and have a fucking conversation with me?”

“Why should I have to stand up while you lecture me about being clingy and selfish and obsessive and insecure?” Zoro retorted.

“Why the hell would I lecture you about—God, you don’t make any damn sense!”

But wait…

“Exactly,” Zoro huffed. “I don’t make sense to you. Why would I be insecure? It’s not like you flirt with everything in a skirt, right? It’s not like you constantly complain about my snoring, or my table manners, or how I don’t spend my water ration smelling nice for you. It’s not like I’m such a loser you had to learn advanced first aid to take care of my dumb ass. It’s not like I have recurring dreams about the whole crew being replaced without me noticing, or dreams where I’m so sure you were replaced, but it turns out you really did just get sick of me. And even if any of that’s true, it’s my shit, for me to deal with instead of trying to make it somebody else’s problem, so will you please just fucking leave me alone to be pathetic in peace?”

Sanji immediately stretched out on the warm deck and said, “Never, darling. If you couldn’t see through Corrin’s disguise, that’s because I didn’t give you any reason to doubt I might suddenly turn you away, and that’s my shit, for me to deal with.”

Zoro covered his face with his hands.

But Sanji remembered him sobbing his heart out in the galley, so lonely and so relieved that even he couldn’t remain stoic any longer. So Sanji gathered him close and said, “I’m sorry. I love you so much, and I don’t want you to have to doubt that. I meant it when I said I can’t wait to grow old with you…reckon we could find someone willing to register a marriage license for us?”

Zoro made a muffled choking noise and peered at him with just one eye uncovered. Then he bolted up into a sitting position, tear-tracks gleaming on his startled face, and said, “If this is a joke, I will replace all your seasonings with oregano. And then I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

Sanji sat up as well, serious and attentive. “It’s not a joke, precious. I’d love to be your husband.”

“You’re not just doing it to make me feel better?” Zoro checked. “You actually want to?”

“Mm. And then I can tell all the lovely ladies that I’m an honest man, taken by a lovely fellow who needs all my care and attention. You know, ‘Roronoa Sanji’ has a nice rhythm to it.” It did, and it would let him cast off his last ties to his shitty family.

“We can’t get married just because of a fight!” yelped Zoro, and he looked genuinely panicked.

“We’re not. We’re getting married because I love you and I don’t want you to constantly wonder whether I’ll forget that. So. We’re gonna get married, we’re gonna have a marriage license from the shitty World Government because I think it’d be hilarious, I’m gonna wear a ring so that nobody—especially me—forgets that I’ve got someone amazing to call home, we’re gonna chase after our dreams, and we’re gonna have our own ship with a world-famous galley where I will serve chiffon cake that tastes like a barrel of oregano, if that’s what makes my sweetheart happy.”

Zoro covered his face again, but his ears were turning redder by the second, so Sanji reeled him in and stroked his back (and didn’t mention the damp patch on his shoulder).

Chopper and Usopp peered down at them from the quarterdeck. “So,” said Usopp. “We need to find a port with a governmental office so we can get a marriage license.”

“We’ll be in range of a Newscoo by tonight,” Nami called. “We could send off for one.”

Zoro flipped them all off without lifting his head.

.End.

#fanfic #opla #zosan #bestie made me post it #CANON DIVERGENCE #universe alteration #fic series: More Like Grand-Ish #Robin's not bad Zoro just hasn't warmed up to her yet

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vladdyissues · 1 year ago

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Hi, it’s me, the asker who was so curious about Danny at school ✨

I got three things to say, silly thing first, 1. I’m so curious about what Danny’s diet is gonna be. I was rereading that chapter, and if Vlad has to eat meat to stoke the flames, does that mean Danny has to go vegetarian? That would be so fucking funny, I’m ngl 😂 but also sad, bc then he’d be thinking about Sam all the time 🥺 anyways, I’m just interested to see what you do with it 👀

2. You got me thinking about enemies to lovers, hardcore. And I realized, when I enjoy that kind of ship, I’m not here to see them become all lovey-dovey and domestic. I’m here to see the pain, and the toxicity, and the deep codependency of it all. The ‘I hate you, but I can’t leave you’, and the ‘you might kill me one day, and I embrace that.’ If you’ve watched Hannibal, you know exactly what I mean 😂 For Vlad and Danny, I don’t really give a fuck if it’s pompep or badgercereal, i just want angst and codependency 😈 I think that’s part of what I like about your story so much, is that it’s toeing the line between the two relationships. Halfway parental, and halfway toxic/romantic love.

3. You’ve fucking ruined me for other fanfiction rn 😭😂 I can’t read anything else for more than five minutes 🥲 Partially bc I’m so invested in the story, but also bc your writing style IS SO FUCKING GOOD. YOU SHOULD BE WRITING ACTUAL BOOKS, LIKE WTF. Anywayyysss, I’ll just curl up into a little ball of boredom on the floor till you update again 😂💕

Sending much looooove, 😘 I hope the brain to fanfic pipeline is working out for you 🤌

Hello and holy shit! What an ego-bloating kind and generous ask this is! Let me jump right in:

1. I don't want to spoil the plot too much, but Danny's diet is going to be key in unraveling a very important part of Vlad's enigma, and I cannot wait to get to that point. I've been sprinkling crumbs of information throughout the story thus far, laying down a foundation upon which to build this Big Thing, and the next chapter (14) will—or should, anyway—finally begin to deliver on it.

2. My friend, you've just given me an epiphany: it's not so much Enemies to Lovers that we adore, I suspect, as it is Enemies and Lovers. That's exactly the tag I'd use to describe Hannigram, and it's such a different and exciting dynamic. I've never quite—well, scratch that—okay, I've never written Enemies and Lovers in such depth as I am with Familiar. There's something darkly satisfying about letting lovers remain ugly; the notion that deep, abiding affection can exist in tandem with fear and disgust; that even monsters—in the very act of being monstrous, or perhaps because they are monstrous and not in spite of their monstrosity—are capable of loving and being loved.

3. Frhgahrglahrglahg I'm going to print and frame this one and hang it on my wall for days when I feel utterly inept. I've been writing fanfiction for a while now, and I've written volumes of silly, embarrassing, poorly-executed tripe, so if I haven't at least gotten a little bit good at what I'm doing, I doubt I ever will 😆 That said, I'm putting a lot of effort into Familiar, I mean pulling out every stop and employing every nut and bolt in my mental toolbox to craft a good story (and reading. Always reading), partly as a challenge to myself and partly out of sheer love for this great ship and its fandom. Everyone here is so nice and welcoming and awesome. I only hope my tiny contribution continues to entertain.

Speaking of which, the wait for this next chapter shouldn't be long. The feedback I've been receiving is phenomenal, and it's definitely helped to fuel me along when my mania wavers. I'm incredibly grateful to you and everyone reading enjoying this story. Thank you thank you ♥

#asks #writing #enemies to lovers #enemies AND lovers #super nice people #meta #fic: familiar #pompous pep #hannibal

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crystal-overdrive · 3 months ago

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Towards Tyranny Post Mortem

I put it to a poll whether folk wanted to read my thoughts on TT now I've finished it and you said yes, so here it is! Under the cut, 1675 words. Perhaps some minor spoilers but I don't outright say what the ending is.

PROCESS

Towards Tyranny was my first piece of fanfiction and my first long-form piece of prose. I worked on Towards Tyranny for ten months, at a rate of a chapter or 2 -4l per week. I was surprised at my ability to continue a project for this long, as by three months I’m normally chomping at the bit when I’m working on other forms of writing. I think releasing serially and getting constant feedback was a huge motivator I wanted to give my audience something every week and I looked forwards to what hey had to say. I’m not sure I could have written the whole thing by myself without showing it to anyone.

Unlike how I normally work, Towards Tyranny was not edited. It would have taken me about double the time if I’d edited, and editing chapter-by-chapter isn’t particularly helpful to me, as I tend to do a structural and character pass before delving into line edits. I think my writing must have improved over the course of this project, as I don’t believe it is too noticeable that the first ten or so chapters have about four rounds of editing, and subsequent chapters have none. So that’s nice!

Plotting and outlining was pretty odd on this project. I am normally very much a planner, but the fic diverged from the original outline very quickly. At points I abandoned the outline and went chapter-by-chapter. I did make (several) more outlines during writing, but the main purpose of these was to prove that the work could actually be finished than a guideline for writing. Having a bit of room for the characters to speak for themselves was a good thing, and I think this has taught me that I can relax a little with my outlining and still complete long projects.

The pace I wrote this at was reasonable, but it was only possible because I didn’t have a full time job. I “stole” time from uni, and during September and October worked on it full time to get finished. One thousand words a day is my full time pace which, while comparable with professionals, seems to pale in comparison to other fic writers. With any luck I’ll have a full time job soon, and I think on top of working, a reasonable pace for outside writing projects is something like 1k a week. That means I probably won’t be writing a longfic like this again. If I do write something of this size it will probably be an original. I’ve proven to myself I can write at length, and I’d like the challenge of original work.

This doesn’t mean I’m done with fandom, it’s just more likley to be the odd one shot when I feel inspired rather than anything big.

PACING AND STRUCTURE

I think it is evident from the text that my outline was changing during writing, as the structure is odd at times. It feels like the front half is all romance, the back half all plot, and then there’s almost a resolution which is undone by my subversive ending. The way Towards Tyranny ends is pretty typical of my work, but I think part of me was channelling the frustration I felt with the project into the characters motivations by the end. Perhaps a more simple romance ending without The Cell or Astarion/Gasper would have made for a stronger ending.

If I was to do a structural edit, I would either remove or make more of the political plotline. The Hand of Baldur goes nowhere, so I’d either add that in or replace it with the Drains and Underways, because they essentially did what Tav suggested the Hand of Baldur would do in that parliament session. I’d also make more of Jannath considering where she ends up. These are fairly minor things to catch in a structural edit, but for a released work they’re not great. This is just a hazard of releasing serially and changing the outline as I went!

Another issue I have with the political plotline is that it often develops between chapters. I thought writing it was boring, and therefore reading it would be. This means we get a lot of telling not showing in regards to Tav’s poltical prowess. If I had leaned in here and done more political chapters though, the work would have been so long, and it would have veered even further from romance as a genre.

One thing I think I do do well with is foreshadowing and setting up characters and mysteries. This was less deliberate planning, and more “I need a character, guess I’ll pull a name I’ve used before”, but it worked. There is also a lot of nice dramatic irony on a second read — I particularity liked Enver telling Tav he “had to have her before she took the Gate from him” in chapter two. Like, you STUPID man, if you’d have left her alone she’d have been no threat! I

Generally, while too much happens off screen and the structure is a little odd, every plot point feel like it is set up and paid off, and we have a cohesive main plot in the Bane storyline. And the Bane storyline is kind of the big gotcha here. Towards Tyranny isn’t really a romance. The real story is about Bane and Tav’s decent into religious fascism, but that wasn’t my original intent, and it wasn’t until about chapter ten that I actually figured that out. If this was an original and I was writing to market, I’d probably be looking at turning it into a political fantasy with a romance B plot rather than the other way around.

In terms of pacing, the political plots are fine, but the romance pace is a bit weird. We got from quite tame flirting to really quite sexual advances in chapter ten which was faster than made sense on a second reading. Again, if I was to edit, I’d add another romantic scene before it that started to cross the line. I would also add another sex or romance scene before the final chapter that demonstrates that while the power dynamics have changed, Enver and Tav do still love one another, because right now I feel like their feelings could be read as ambiguous at the end. Also, I just think it’s funny that they went from flirting to married in basically two weeks. Time was all over the place in the fic, and juggling a lot of plot points made it hard to manage at times.

QUALITY OF PROSE

I don’t consider prose my main form of writing, so I’m largely happy with how the prose turned out. There’s some really lovely metaphors, similes and description near the beginning that grounds the reader in Tav’s head and world. This does fall off as I stop editing and being to write faster, but in my defence, by chapter thirty, we don’t need more description of Wyrm’s Rock! Some of the description in the later chapters feels overly simplistic—more like stage direction than the sort of description and action that also conveys emotion, theme, tone etc.

While I was writing I was concerned about the overuse of things like smiling, learning, smirking, said, because I tended to use these as fillers between dialogue and they are known as somewhat annoying, but when I read back I didn’t notice it at all as a reader, and though action and dialogue flowed quite well. Nearer the end, we start to get heads talking in the void. I had purposefully used less action and dialogue tags because I had noticed that I used them more than I found them in published work. Looking at it now, I think, no, I don’t need to tag every line, but I prefer (in my own writing at least) more tags and action than less.

I am very pleased with my dialogue. I think it is natural and consistently in character. Each character has a distinct register that I am happy with.

FANFIC VS ORIGINAL

If this was an original, it would have to have been far longer. Through I do a lot of worldbuilding as far as Bane is involved, the pre-established worlds and characters do so much. Without contextt of the Gods, the cults, the adventure, it wouldn’t make sense. An original would have needed flashbacks to the adventure, or perhaps this would have to come as a part two.

I really enjoyed getting to take an established world and pick at it and expand it. By mid-way, when the main cast were mostly OCs and the story had become about my take on the cult of Bane, it felt closer to an original, but the process was still very different.

It had different motivations from writing an original piece too. While I love interacting with readers via comments, and at times it did feel like I was writing for comments, I was ultimately writing for myself, and at points as a form of therapy. During writing I went through a religious crisis, dropped out of a PhD, got engaged and dealt with a lot of family drama. Wonder where half of the plot of the fic came from…

On that note, I back and forthed a lot about whether Tav was a self-insert. She was a lot of my character traits, personality quirks, and I sort of wrote from a what-would-I-do perspective for a while. As she turned more and more evil, more of a gap formed between us, and I think that made writing harder. I started to feel uncomfortable that I had identified with a character whose morals were so unlike my own by the end. In the last few chapters I embraced Tav as not-me, just some cool evil woman, and that was better.

Overall, I’m really happy with Towards Tyranny. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, I feel so proud of how I committed to getting this done, and I like the end result!

#towards tyranny #fic writing #post mortem #refection #critical essay #tavtash

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starrysnowdrop · 4 months ago

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any lilika hcs?

Ohhh this answer will probably be a bit long, so I apologize in advance if I start to ramble!

So I created Lilika, another lala OC a while back, and she was going to be a side character in Hali’s story. She was also shipped with Krile, and though I had received so much positive feedback for her, I really wasn’t inspired to write for her. I didn’t even get around to filling out a full character profile for her.

Which perhaps in the grand scheme of things is a good thing, because a lot of what I had planned for her, well, now I feel like she’s way too similar to Yume. Not only that but I also would probably want to change up her look just a bit because she looks a bit too much like the new look for Persie for my tastes.

But you wanted some Lilika headcanons dear anon, so here’s some that if I ever get around to actually fleshing Lilika out, I’ll be keeping these!

So here we go!

Lili is the name she likes to be called, but her full name is Lilika Lika, and it’s not only a canon compliant Dunesfolk name (unlike Hali, heh), but it’s also my little nod to Final Fantasy X, because I think it sounds similar to Kilika Island.

Lili’s pronouns are She/Her, she is cisgender, and a lesbian. She has had relations with men in her past when she was finding herself, but she came out as a lesbian when she was 20 years old.

She was born in Ul’dah and she is actually the distant cousin of Hali! Lili met Hali when Hali first arrived in Eorzea and looked up information on Nanani’s family (Nanani is Hali’s grandmother and Lili’s great aunt who left Ul’dah to marry her husband and live in Sharlayan).

Lili is descended from a prominent family whose members almost always become involved in the Order of Nald’thal, with many members also joining the Thaumaturge Guild. Lili tried her hand at Thaumaturgy but she found herself woefully unskilled in magic. Instead, she joined the Pugilist Guild and eventually trained in the techniques of the Ala Mhigan Monk.

Unlike Hali who never believed in any forms of religion and only understands religion in an academic sense as a Sharlayan, Lili does believe in the Twelve and has her faith shaken by the events of the MSQ and of course the events of the Myths of the Realm raid series.

Lili has had several casual relationships, including a brief fling with Tataru during ARR and HW, but she never had any serious romantic feelings about someone until she met Krile.

I’m still working out a timeline of the Lili x Krile ship right now, but I’m thinking about them confessing their feelings and officially being in an exclusive relationship around Post ShB to Pre EW. Sometime in the 5.3-5.55 range. They get together before Hali and Aymeric do at least.

That’s all I’ve got for now! Thank you so much for the ask anon!!

#asks and replies #anon asks #lilika lika #she doesn’t have an OC tag yet

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misscammiedawn · 2 years ago

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50 Days of HypnoKink - Day 37: Fae Play

Alignment: 100% Miss Dawn Only food.

Can I have a moment of your time?

-----

And that's why I think that signing Fae contracts is fun and you should watch what you say very carefully! You don't know when a Fae will reach in and make it so you can't even remember what happened. They can steal your name. Your words. Your agency.

Fae deal in words and words have power.

Rather than describe this concept, I thought I'd write a new addition to my Madison/Belladonna series highlighting it:

---

Faelike.

It was a word Donna used to describe herself often. It was a fairly accurate description but it was hard to pin down in words exactly what it represented. But it was there. In the way she carried herself, in the way her hands flourished, in the seductive growls of her natural speech patterns.

Donna enjoyed being called Faelike. In her view words gave her power and the power of words fueled her entire aesthetic and presentation. There was no greater compliment than to be considered akin to a being that treated conversation as contract.

“One must be careful when making deals with the Fae.” she warned with a dangerous grin, “We often find ourselves taking far more than you may think you’re going to offer.”

Madison raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed. “Oh really.” She taunted, flatly. She was in her bratty mood. There were times when Donna’s self-assured overconfidence met against Madison’s smirking resilience and created truly memorable scenes.

“I feel it’s fair to describe the rules and ensure that you understand them, then. Though I may very well take away your waking awareness at the end of our discussion– pending your reaction, of course.”

“Promises promises…” Madison grinned, eyes sharply engaged with Donna’s, “You haven’t told me what exactly you’re planning, yet.”

Donna’s hands moved in a flourish, framing her face as she beamed performatively, “For the duration of this scene I would like it so that any agreement that we make, no matter how trivial, be open to my interpretation. I intend to be playful about it, but just know during this scene if you agree to anything then I’ll have it, command it and control it.”

“You seem to do that anyway, Miss Donna.”

“Perhaps, but this is a little more fun, don’t you think?”

“As you say, Miss Donna.”

“So what I intend to do is trance you, suggest that when I feel something has been said that is worthy of a contract, I’ll use a pause trigger and tell you how it has impacted you. That does mean that consent will have to be a bit malleable for the in-the-moment suggestions.”

“You know what you’re supposed to avoid and I know how to resist and reject a suggestion that I don’t like.” Madison clarified, seriously. Safety was a topic that should not be joked around.

“I may still use the frozen time to ensure your compliance, but I’ll be trusting you there.”

“As I trust you.”

Donna closed her eyes and sighed. The trust she shared with Madison was what allowed her to do what she does. Without knowing how well she could self-advocate and provide feedback, even in the moment, she would never feel comfortable enough to give all she was capable of giving.

“Very well. Would you prefer to remember our discussion or go in blind?” Donna asked with a smirk.

“I think it will be best to go in blind.” Madison shot back.

“As you wish, beloved. Then focus. Focus on my eyes. Focus on my voice. Find yourself being wrapped up comfortably and tightly by my presence, my words, my power. Just fall in. Relax. Don’t fight it. Just breathe in calm and deep— and drop.”

Madison’s chin dipped, her mind opened.

And she listened.

Madison returned with a heavy blink. Her thoughts were clear and she understood what they were about to do but the rules were less something she knew and more something she understood. An innate trust like riding a bicycle. It was a feeling that she could lean into when the time called for it.

“Welcome back, beloved.” how are you feeling?

“Good…” she cautiously grinned, eyeing her partner, “You’re planning something.” “Always!” Donna boasted with a dramatic gesture, “And I think trying to work it out makes it all the more fun.”

“I’d just best be careful how I speak and then I’ll be fine, then.”

Donna looked Madison over carefully, sizing her up before starting her little game in earnest, “Well let’s start slow. Can I have your name?”

“My name is my own and I do not offer it to you, Miss Donna. Though I am sure you know it is Madison.”

“Ah, I see. So you’ve already decided how you wish to play this, my dear?”

“I do know how I wish to play this,” Madison confirmed, carefully avoiding phrasing that could be used against her, “I imagine that if I had said Yes you could have treated that as asking me if I was your dear?”

Donna’s eyebrows raised, happy to be met with a worthy opponent, “That sounds like a devious way to approach things, my love. I imagine you would have to be careful if I were such a cheap and horrid trickster who would stoop so low to get a reaction from you.”

Madison said nothing, watching and waiting, every sentence was now an invite and a challenge. She did not need to return every statement with a counter. Silence was as much of a reply at times and it was a safer one too.

“Oh come now, we could sit in silence if it would please you, beloved, but I know it is more fun to engage.”

“Oh I am well aware. And I am being cautious, not cowardly.”

“Do you think…?” Donna lingered on the implied ‘I’m cowardly’. Madison wanted to roll her eyes at how weak that attempt was.

“Yes. I do think, Miss. I am quite capable of thinking and you have not taken that from me yet.”

“Fine. I would say we are both firmly familiar with the rules at this stage and as always you prove yourself to be ample competition for me, lass.”

“Thank you, Miss Donna.” Madison coyly responded, she loved teasing her partner when she was on the offensive. Her reactions were lovely and she always made her pay for it.

“Then I suppose I had best change tactics and be a little less obvious.” Donna boasted, “Though it’s only fair that you play along. I do love it when you struggle in futile resistance, but I think we can both agree it is more fun when you go along with my little whims.”

Madison raised an eyebrow and lowered her chin, that look she gave that said ‘I know what you’re doing’ better than words ever could, “Who said I couldn't resist while playing along with the spirit of the rules?” she asked sweetly.

Donna’s own expression scrunched up in a mix of amusement and playful frustration, “I have to step up my game, don’t I?”

“I am quite certain you will do your best, Miss Donna. There’s no need to cheat.”

“Aw…” Donna mock pouted, “But I love to cheat.”

“I know you do, love.” Madison proudly responded, beaming, “I look forward to seeing how you try.”

Donna paused a beat and let out a fond breath of patience. What she liked about Madison above all of the other people that she had played with is that Madison always made her earn it which pushed her to new heights and within those new heights came incredible new ideas.

Fortunately, as much as Madison was starting to recognize her habits and combat them effectively, Donna was learning Madison’s own patterns. It was a joy to subvert them.

“Very well.” she stated calmly, raising her hands. “Then are you watching closely?”

Madison settled back, watching with a mingle of amusement and curiosity, “Is this a magic trick?” she asked, playfully.

Donna closed her hands and looked expectantly at her partner, waiting for her to take this seriously before proceeding. Madison settled back and, satisfied, Donna opened her hands again. “Okay. Are you paying attention?”

“You’ve used that one before!” Madison heckled giddily.

“Perhaps.” Donna chuckled, leaning forward, “But you did pay attention to me last time and you will pay attention to me this time. Won’t you, my love?”

Donna theatrically swung her hands to that her dominant index finger was pointing at her partner and the other was pressed on the tip of her own nose.

“Yes, Miss Donna”, Madison responded automatically.

A beat passed and Madison exploded into an emotional flurry, “HEY! That’s not fair!” she all but cried out.

“Who said anything about fair?” Donna retorted, “I may be of the fair folk, but I already told you… I like to cheat.”

Madison stuck her tongue out at her partner and folded her arms. She was growing red from embarrassment.

“Oh come now, my dear. It’s okay. You said you were going to give me all of your attention?”

Madison’s nostrils flared as she attempted to dodge what was obviously going to happen, Donna swung the triggering gesture again and her resistance was proven futile.

“Yes, Miss Donna.” she repeated.

“Good girl. And now I command and control your attention once again, you can just focus. That’s right. Focus on my words and focus on my fingers as they flutter above you.”

Donna’s fingers danced a butterfly induction above her eyeline. Madison’s eyelids fluttered as she followed the swaying and sweeping, back and forth gestures before.

“Drop.”

She sunk her chin to her chest and surrendered to sleep.

“That’s right…” Donna chuckled, victoriously, “Though you can just let that whole ‘Yes, Miss Donna’ trigger fade from memory once again, you know it is much more fun if you just box that up and store it with all the fun things we put aside for our little back and forth. I promise you’ll get everything returned to you at the end of the night as always. But it’ll be much more fun to just let this fade away for the moment.”

Even entranced, Madison’s tongue made a bratty appearance to berate Donna’s cheating schemes, but she did not flag resistance beyond the playful display.

“Is that ‘Yes, Miss Donna’?”

“Yes, Miss Donna.”

“That’s my good girl. Then forgetting the trigger and slowly returning to full awareness, I’d like you to come back in 3—2—-1…”

Madison blinked awake with a frown. She knew there were shenanigans afoot but she could not prove it. Which of course meant that she was going along with it. She could still act up her half of the equation. It made things more fun for both of them.

“Eyes on me, love.” Donna said, softly. Madison’s eyes magnetically pulled to her partner and refused to leave. She was still suggestible from the end of the previous trance.

“I wanted to try something again. May I?”

Madison bit back the urge to respond ‘You may.’ and instead returned a question for a question, “What do you wish to try, love?”

The Fae grinned broadly, “Still defensive, are you? Good. I was going to ask for your name again. May I have your name, my love?”

Madison poutily folded her arms again, she could sense on some level that this was a trick. She did not know what direction it was going and thus could not defend.

“Oh come on now… All I am asking for is a name. May I have it?”

She performed a quick gesture and Madison’s lips responded before her brain even picked up on it. “Yes, Miss Donna.”

Donna’s eyes flashed with victory, “Good girl. Pause.”

Madison stopped moving.

She could still blink and there were signs of her breathing, but she was frozen in position.

“And for the rest of this scene, I have your name. You can just pack that away for a time. Knowing like all things it will be returned, but for now you are whatever title I give you. Pet. Toy. Plaything. You will know when I address you that it is your title because I have your name, so any name I give you is the one you have. And you’ll go along with that until the end of this scene.”

She paused and just watched Madison’s frozen face. A part of her regretted doing this under a freeze trigger where she couldn’t savor the facial reactions of each name hitting. She made a mental note to do this again without the pause trigger when the time was right.

“Unpause.” she finally said, standing back.

Donna’s girlfriend blinked. Normally at the end of trance her blinks were firm, like wiping cobwebs from the mind and clearing the inner static. This one was a gentle blink of mild confusion.

“How are you feeling, my love?” Donna sang merrily.

Donna’s love looked up, something was missing, there was a hazy fuzz where it was, but grasping for it yielded nothing but static. “Good?” was the only word that could be offered.

Concern outweighed dominant energy for a moment and Donna lowered her tone, “You look confused, lass. This is an intense one, I just want to check-in and see if you’re okay.”

Lass started to nod, then stopped, took a breath, and closed her eyes. After a moment of consideration, she nodded firmly.

“Okay then, toy.” Donna growled, ramping herself back into scene space, “As long as you consent, I’ll continue.”

“Yes, Miss Donna.” Toy responded.

“For this next bit I may require assistance. Plaything, may I have a hand?”

“Yes, Miss Donna.” Plaything chirped.

“Pause.” Donna watched as the trigger took hold again, and barreled on, “When I address your hand it will do exactly what I say. I have your hand. It is mine now. I get to do with it whatever I please. Unpause.”

There was no blink this time, the rebound was instant. Pet raised herself to full height and looked expectantly.

“What?” Donna asked, playfully.

“I know that expression.” she joked, “You did something else, didn’t you?”

“I really can’t get one up on you, can I darling?”

Darling’s hair bounced back and forth as she shook her head, “Nu-uh, I’m too smart.”

“Maybe, but I’m commanding. Your intelligence and your wit both turn to serve me.”

Toy’s shoulders drew back as her head dipped. Her eyes remained focused on Donna, pleading.

“Hand, run up the back of her scalp.” Donna suddenly commanded.

The hand drew up and slid up, hair spilling between the fingers. Lass just looked at Donna expectantly, knowing what was going to happen next.

“Make a fist.” she commanded, her love hissed out in delight as her own possessed hand seized a clump of hair and held firm. She dangled on the tension, whimpering openly.

“That’s it… good lass. Just like that. And release.”

The hand dropped down harmlessly. Donna watched her toy’s face as it slowly recovered from that.

With a smirk, she added, “Hand, caress her cheek.” and enjoyed the reprieve as it obeyed.

Toy’s shoulders sank as the hand returned to her side. “Oh, love…” she sighed, a little giddy from sliding in and out of trance.

Donna beamed, affectionately. “You are just so much fun, my love.”

“Thank you!” Donna’s love sang, “I like when you play with me!"

“You make it so richly rewarding, my sweet.” Donna giggled to herself, barely able to contain her delight, “Oh what shall I take from you next, my dear?”

“I’d give you my heart… but you already have it!” Donna’s plaything slurred, giddy from fractionation. With a broad grin she swung her arm out and pointed to a plastic red bead hanging from a string on Donna’s shelf. “See, there!”

Donna turned and looked at the trinket. Memories of how their relationship began flooded her so powerfully that she needed to suppress the bubbling emotions from within that threatened to overwhelm her and drag her from Top Space.

“Right you are, my beautiful toy.” she sighed, affection restrained but oh so powerfully present, “How can I take that which was freely offered. Your heart is mine, your hand is mine, your mind is mine. I’ve nothing more to take but you, my love. For this moment, just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…” pet sighed blissfully.

“That you are. Good girl.” Donna chuckled, “Let me guide your hand to caress your cheek. Know it happens by my will.”

The Fae’s possession did as she was bidden.

“I am a good trickster, though, and though I do like all you have so kindly offered me, my darling, I shall return all that I claimed with thanks for letting me borrow it.” she claimed the heart and moved it to hang from the string before plaything’s eyes, “Except for this. This I keep.”

Toy’s eyes closed, “As you wish, Miss Donna.”

“I still hold your attention.” Donna firmly declared and her love’s eyes opened wide with a gasp, “And right now I guide that attention to this focus. You will watch it. You will follow it. I know you’re already so fractionated. You can’t resist.”

“Can’t resist.” plaything whispered to herself.

“Good toy… slipping back under my spell and letting everything return to place. Feeling me love you, adore you, treasure you and hold you. You are your own woman again and all that was taken can softly be restored. But I will continue to hold a piece of your heart, as I know you hold a piece of mine. My beautiful Madison.”

Madison smiled a sleepy smile, “Love you…” she whispered softly.

“I love you too.”

---

Day 36: Guided Fantasy

FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST

Day 38: "Feel what you see" suggestions

#dawn posting #50 days of fetishes #hypnosis #hypnokink #madison and belladonna

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bvannn · 10 months ago

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Weekly Update March 15, 2024

Something is wrong with me today, but I’m not sure what. I’m keeping an eye on what I suspect it may be, although it’s more likely a sleep related problem. I’ll try to get to bed early tonight. I did a good amount of artstuffs this week, though.

First real significant thing I did this week was record a bunch of melodies for songs and covers. I’m getting somewhere on the main cover I’m working on, and I’ll be tweaking the vocals hopefully soon and possibly posting a WIP once they’re acceptable. I think I will need to chop up the wav file and add effects only to specific notes to add more bite, since vocaloid seems to not really be able to do that. That’s fine I’m a smart person sometimes I can get around it.

Other instrumental songs are going well too. Made good progress on an old Zelda medley/cover I’d been working on, and another instrumental character theme has a good outline. I’ll try to really push for them soon, and once I get the Zelda one done I’ll poke at mechanical license websites to see how bad pricing is and see what songs are even available. The vocal cover should be, since it’s from a mainstream band, but I don’t know if video game music will be available, we’ll see. I might also go in for more recording tonight to see if a bit of movement/exercise would help whatever physical problem I’m having today.

I also have been having awful insomnia, which I’ve been using the time to try chipping away at lyrics for the two ‘vocal’ songs I’m done with otherwise. I’m sitting down and doing one section per session, so with any luck I can get those done soon too.

Drawings are also going well enough. I’m getting weirdly self conscious about my art, since I haven’t really seen a lot of growth in interaction on any of the sites I post to except here. Thank you guys for sticking with me! I’m trying to pull myself together to do more small drawings, so you guys have a bit more to look at for now, although I also have been chipping away at that comic still. I need to write/thumbnail 2 more scenes and edit, then I should be good to make actual pages.

Aside from the initial pitch comic I’m thinking about the outlines for the rest of the stories a bit more now. I get anxious when I get insomnia so I’ve been trying to just write in general, so I can at least be productive with the time, and that’s included lyric stuff, TTRPG stuff, and a lot of OC story stuff. I’m always afraid to lore dump on here unless I’m explicitly asked, for fear of coming off as annoying, but all things considered people seem to like the posts that include lore a bit better so my fear is probably unfounded. Perhaps I will do more on my own, but if you ever really want lore never be afraid to send an ask. I also tag the names of my reoccurring OCs so people can search my blog for them if they want to see more of any specific character.

Also speaking of writing, am still chipping away at an Anime Campaign/Epithet TTRPG game. I put up a poll on the epithet subreddit, which was a cleverly disguised way to gauge interest in an epithet pre-written campaign, since people are more likely to interact with a poll than to upvote a post. There were fourty something people who responded, almost unanimously positively. I might throw another one up there to see how many would actually be interested in DMing, but if feedback comes back positive I might turn what I’ve been working on into a prewritten module for others to run as well. That’d also be a fun writing project, which will be nice because writing is lower effort and lets me rest more, and rest is what I think I need right now.

Good amount of stuff got done this week despite me being in generally poor health. I will try to get better. Focusing on more writing stuff with smaller drawings like headshots will try to be the focus for next week.

#weekly update

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scariusaquarius · 2 years ago

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Same person returning- Thank you for responding, I appreciate your perspective and you’re right. I would say that I have become too reliant on feedback in a way, but I think it’s because I’ve been writing for the same fandom the whole time (Resident Evil) who used to give rather frequent feedback and lately I have found that it’s fizzled out, which again is no one’s fault and I would never want to seem ungrateful it’s just a shame and I can’t help but wonder what changed. I definitely need to get back to writing for myself either way. Perhaps I’ll just write some little things and leave them in google docs to try pick myself back up and remove myself from the idea of the validation.

It's every writer's downfall, honestly. At some point, you're going to find yourself wanting validation from others, which is completely alright and normal. We as humans thrive on outside validation because we don't exactly have a true idea on whether or not we're doing a good job unless someone says so. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it can definitely have a negative impact on the way we live our everyday normal lives and impact the way we create things.

With the Resident Evil 4 Remake coming out, there's definitely going to be an influx of new and younger people coming onto Tumblr. It's almost inevitable no matter what game, show, comic book, etc, comes out.

It's up to the fandom itself whether or not it wants to stay alive, and unfortunately, there tends to be a lot more newer people that are used to mindlessly consuming content than there are older people that are used to creating the content in a fandom; older people that are also used to reblogging and commenting and whatnot.

You just have to find your niche and people that support you. Writers need to have support from other writers, not just from the audience of which a writer is creating content for. You can only get so far, you know? I would recommend posting on ao3 as I find there to be a lot more feedback on there than on tumblr. It just takes time and patience.

#lyn speaks

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darlingpoppet · 1 year ago

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[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

Tagged by @johaerys-writes (who is always welcome to tag me in stuff whenever they want because it makes my day every time <3)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 16 as of now. I have another fic I’m not yet allowed to publish outside of its anthology that I’d like to upload eventually, and I also have new WIP currently in the works, so the number is slowly growing!

2. What is your AO3 word count? 128,406… I’ve only been actively publishing on my AO3 account for about 2 years so I’d say it’s a pretty decent output!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Right now just two: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan (mostly Eruri), and Patrochilles (from The Iliad/Hades/TSOA/etc. because it’s better to say the ship itself is the fandom right? lol) Although Hades in itself can perhaps be considered a separate third category because that particular spin on Greek Mythology & its interpretation of Patrochilles has particularly captured my imagination, and because I’ve written for other ships in that universe like PZA and MZT

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? In descending order: Pressed Flowers, Strain, Upon A Lazy Bed, Once More, and Closest To My Heart (the latter two are currently tied for 4th but Closest might eke ahead once this is posted haha.) I actually really love how these are a pretty good representative sample of my works: Eruri, Patrochilles (TSOA-verse & Hades-verse), PZA; some smutty, some angsty & some sweet; their ratings are all that AO3 offers: 1 G, 1 T, 1 M, & 2 E. I’m a bit sad that as of this writing Where The Dead Forget has been knocked out of the top 5 but since it’s still an ongoing WIP that’s only like 25% done, assuming its readership grows, it’ll certainly claw its way back up through the rankings lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do my best to respond! I like to show my gratitude to anyone who kindly takes the time to share their thoughts, and also I love to be able to discuss the story & characters when I have the opportunity! I’ve done my best to be diligent about responding ever since I started posting Patrochilles fics but unfortunately I still have an accumulated backlog from the earlier days of posting… my inbox is sitting at an ignominious 28 “unreads” atm (although I promise I did read & savor each one! I’ll respond eventually, I promise!!)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Pressed Flowers and Upon A Lazy Bed both have pretty bittersweet endings. Closest To My Heart has a “happy” ending that in the context of the rest of the story is in fact rather bleak, and I’ve rightfully gotten a lot of feedback that people found it pretty unsettling, haha.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Nonbiri-ya, perhaps? Or perhaps it’s Sea Of Love, if you’re a Hadesgame enjoyer who’s also familiar with the Achilles myths and the prophecies about his life

8. Do you get hate on fics? I haven’t received any so far. If anyone dislikes what I’m cooking up they’re gratefully keeping it to themselves or at least where I can’t see it, haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes and this year especially I’ve been trying to get better at it! I’ve always personally enjoyed smut that’s used as a vehicle for character/relationship study, that combo of eroticism + emotion is soooo good. As for what kind it is… uhhhh I’m not sure since I’ve done everything from tender & romantic, “fade-to-black” scenes to dead dovey fetish fuel and everything in between, lol. I hope I write the kind of smut that’s hot I guess uwu

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not really, unless you’d consider mixing & matching details of different Greek mythology retellings into a new story to be a crossover… but personally I don’t think it counts haha. Sea Of Love in some ways feels like a TSOA/Hades crossover but I think it’s more just the vibes since it was still my aim to depict Hadesgame versions of Patrochilles during their childhood

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of… hopefully not haha

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I’ve translated several of my own fics into Japanese for doujinshi publishing purposes: The Upper Hand, Stomach & Heart, Odd One Out, and one more that isn’t on AO3 yet called LoveSick Arrows. I also translated Upon A Lazy Bed into Japanese for fun over a year ago and I’ve been meaning to post it for ages but my partner who usually betas my translations still hasn’t looked it over haha. My fic Harmony was translated into Russian and Ukrainian as part of a fandom group project. Also, I once received a request from someone who wanted to translate The Upper Hand into Russian. Not sure if it ever happened… perhaps it’s out there somewhere on ficbook, though I’m not sure where! (If anyone knows I’d love to link back to it!)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No, never! I’m not sure how a writing collaboration works exactly but it might be fun to try sometime!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Oh god… I mean I would have to say it’s eruri right? Just for the sheer amount of time & the degree I’ve gone hard for this ship… all the friendships I made and the person I’ve become literally would not have been possible without it. My comparatively recent foray into writing has come at a time when that passion is in a more dormant period though. And instead I’m having a lot of fun writing with Patrochilles which I can already tell will be another all-timer for me (two years ago me would probably be surprised to know that current me is taking Classical Greek lessons because the hyperfixations cannot be controlled, amirite?) I’ve enjoyed a lot of ships but I’ve had so few genuine OTPs my whole life because once I fall in love with a ship I fall HARD. Probably the only other one that has genuinely changed my life like Eruri and Patrochilles have is Wolfstar… that one definitely comes with a lot of bittersweetness but at least I can still say I have a lot good memories attached to it <3

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? I wanna say “never say never” because every time I look through my WIPs and fic ideas I’m always like “oh this was so good! I should return to it!” I had always wanted to do my own “Erwin lives” fic but I’m not sure exactly if I have enough passion atm to bring something interesting or unique to that little sub-genre. Maybe someday, if I have a good enough idea. I’ve also for the longest time had a “what if Erwin joined the Military Police instead of the Survey Corps” story idea because back in the early days of the eruri fandom there were a lot of popular fanon & AUs where Erwin was an MP or ex-MP (probably popularized by Audacity?) That mini-genre pretty much died out once we learned his canon backstory but I still wanted to do one in conversation/playing with the canon, because I think that would be an interesting vehicle to explore his character motivations by considering an alternative & I think I could make a neat little political thriller out of it. Again, maybe someday. I think the only WIP I have actually talked about that’s well & truly “dead” is the Achilles POV fic I said I was writing in the notes for Upon A Lazy Bed. It was just too episodic and I could never really come up with a proper narrative through-line for it. On the bright side, much of what I had written for it and its overall thesis statement ended up getting repurposed for Where The Dead Forget, so at least it lives now as something else. There are still a couple orphan stand-alone episodes from it that I still quite like, so maybe I’ll publish them as a little TSOA-verse drabble collection or something someday.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I’m pretty good at creating a certain tone and atmosphere. I also think I’m getting good at making my prose flow in a rhythmically pleasing way. A friend once called my writing “lyrical” & I think it was one of the kindest compliments I’ve ever gotten ;o;

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I said this in an earlier ask meme but I don’t think I’m very good at action scenes, it’s hard for me to make a sequence of actions both interesting & make sense and I don’t really enjoy writing them haha. They’re harder than sex scenes too because at least in those you can weave in a lot more emotions among the “choreography”. Also: long-form serialized storytelling does not come naturally to me at all and I’m unsure if I do a good job with things like pacing or being able to clearly see both the forest & trees. Time will tell I guess lol. On that note, I’m also a pretty slow writer. I am Not that author who gives regular weekly/monthly updates haha.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Personally I don’t really encounter this often but when I do it’s usually demonstrating a language barrier between the characters, or something being purposely obfuscated from the reader, which I think is all fine & legit. I suppose you would see it more often between characters who are understood to not actually be speaking in the language of the fic, yeah? I was reading a novel recently that was injecting all sorts of words & phrases in the language of the setting and idk… I guess it added to the atmosphere but when I can’t understand what they’re saying even though it’s something the pov character is meant to understand then it starts to feel a bit alienating and I don’t like it, haha.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing, I think? LMFAO! I was 12 and I wrote some kind of AU where they all go to camp and I’m pretty sure it was pure tween cringe haha. The first fandom in which I posted more publicly was Harry Potter. The only one I really remember from back then was a James/Sirius fic I wrote when I was 16 that nowadays would be considered dd content… it’s probably lost to the sands of time but even now I still think the concept was solid uwu

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? The ones I’ve always felt pretty stoked on since posting them are Upon A Lazy Bed and Closest To My Heart… both of them because I enjoyed toying with the ideas behind them, and to me they successfully evoke the atmosphere and emotional responses I was going for. And if I can continue make my writing as pretty as I think UALB ended up being I’ll be very happy indeed! Also: I felt kind of iffy on LoveSick Arrows (the one not on AO3 yet) when I first submitted it but recently I reread it and I think it turned out way better than I gave it credit for… it might be my favorite eruri fic to date :)

Tagging @galpalpetraral @zorthania @lostcauses-noregrets @he1chouarts @goddamnchou @ladymacbethsspot & @elemmacil <3 Also belatedly tagging @sonderous-opia because I couldn’t remember what your tumblr account name was until now ;o;

#eruri #patrochilles #wolfstar #hades game #the iliad #the song of achilles #shingeki no kyojin #my fics

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