#sorry this is so annoying and incoherent

[ranticore]

Now that you mentioned it in the tags; I really enjoyed how you did the queerness of characters in-text and I saw you mentioned more than once before how they consider/call themselves gay or anything and I was wondering if you'd be willing to elaborate on that (in Ironwall, MVF etc), but more from a writing standpoint than a worldbuilding one. Hope Im making sense lol

i looked up the invention of the word 'homosexuality' and found that it was invented 6 years after stbh is set

ghksjdg i mean there's more to it than that but it meant that my language was constrained, which also means that the characters' language is constrained as well. i have to think about ways i want this to come across to the reader. at the time i was thinking about how the basic concept of "btw this character is not straight/cis" is communicated in some of the stories i'd read, and one that stood out to me was a comic i read in a fully fantasy setting where the writer brought the narrative to a juddering halt to explain exactly how gender & sexuality are handled by the people here. as in the characters essentially turn to the camera and give the main character a lecture. i really didn't like it, the author's hand was too visible behind the panels.

but i took it as a learning exercise as well on what i didn't want to do. i didn't like the neon signs pointing at any instance of non-heteronormativity and i also don't like stories that market themselves based on the characters' gender identities, particularly stories which do not involve a coming-of-age/character learns to discover themselves narrative. it's a book about two trans men but it's not a book about being trans. that's none of the reader's business, that's hidden from you (particularly in islin's case, intentionally). i never wanted to foster a sense of voyeurism towards trans people particularly knowing that most readers, statistically, will not be trans. crucially the characters are stealth to literally everybody but like 3 people. their transition is done.

i never wanted a coming out moment, or an "i'm here i'm queer" moment either - not even because Society in the setting just because i don't like those things. to completely normalise it in the narrative between these characters is the goal - almost to the point of never even pointing it out at all except when it has to be. the vibe i wanted was like... hanging out in not necessarily a gay space, but with gay people, talking about random other stuff. i didn't even like the One coming out scene i had to put in (senca being like "i only fuck women" to bowman so that he would stop hitting on her)

so when writing i had a pretty good idea of what i didn't want. for the setting i had some strict rules to follow as well. characters would not identify as gay or bisexual or even some fantasy equivalent because those were not identities, they were acts. and heterosexuality wasn't an identity either, it wasn't even "the natural way of things", it was the means by which wealth could transfer between generations. if you do not marry, then you are not conforming to your gender. the four unmarriagable men in mvf are all denied entry to normative manhood for many de-gendering factors (disability, unmanly hobbies, vow of chastity, etc) but the culmination of those factors is that they can't marry, which is the whole POINT of being a man. three of them are entirely denied generational wealth - forcing them into poverty (it's not a coincidence that gay people are overrepresented in the criminal organisation)

from a writing standpoint this leaves them in a grey zone. when writing i tried out different language to see if it read nice to me (19th century equivalents to 'boyfriend' etc) and they all rang quite false, because outside of the whole 'can we put a label on something that doesn't officially exist in society' thing, the characters themselves are not the types of people to think that way. Bowman was dating Léa but he was never dating Félix. you can't date another man. the only people who date men are women, and Bowman is not a woman. therefore he is not dating Félix. to give just one example. ultimately for the language used i found that just leaving it as-is worked the best for me.

so after working all that out i wrote tha thing and then wanted to kind of explore - at what point does it become romantic? is there an actual border between romantic and platonic when you've kind of already fallen between the cracks in society into the grey zone where nothing is defined because it doesn't affirm the power of the ruling class. and in these particular friendships, where they've already been all things to one another, they've already done everything together, good or bad, does adding 'romantic love' to that list of things wildly recontextualise it retroactively or does anything change at all? just like the ending reveal of stbh says: who actually is the guy we've been thinking of as 'félix ortega' ? does it recontextualise everything we've just read? no, right? (or does it?)

the usual 'will-they-won't-they' romance plot isn't a factor in the book, we already know they will, they have, they won't, and they refuse to, all at once.

(jean-baptiste thinks of himself as an invert because he is Learned and has read some fascinating journal articles about cutting-edge sexology, and his relation to his sexuality is very very different. it's not something he shares with his closest friends in spaces without scrutiny; his entire life is scrutinised and his social system is predicated on marriage. like i think i said in the book, probably, i don't remember: he and renard are two guys clinging to the same life raft. they hate each other! but if you push the other guy off the life raft, then you're just one guy alone at sea, forever.)

[skleech]

Cyrus,,,

[im-smart-i-swear]

some lore. this may all change lol im still figuring stuff out but this is the general gist

[blmpff]

No, because I'm still stuck on Aob and Puen.

I get this scene, we haven't believed in Aob's cold facade for a while/ever. He'd caught feelings for Puen whether he liked it or not, and for unknown (underwritten) reasons tried to brush them off/ignore them and keep Puen at arm's length.... so to speak:

This one is understandable for the same reasons as listed above, he has (actively repressed) feelings for Puen and doesn't want to interact with him sexually and/or see him that way with other people, so he walks away:

Now where did this lovely-dovey, high school style piggy backing later that very same day came from?? Did seeing Puen with Ndozenth client suddenly broke his shyness and tore down his walls to make a move on him??

There was no backstory on either of them (Puen attends the rich kids uni, and the sport's scholarship money isn't enough hence the side gig as Playboyy, that's it), we don't know any reasons for their actions, they get the least time and what they do get barely holds together (Aob is the Top Playboyy and had to teach Puen the ropes, period). Are they casualties of the writing room or the editing room?

I'm with @italianpersonwithashippersheart's tags on this post that they probably suffered due to rewrites, which is a shame and also really sticks out. Like I said in the linked post, the promotional posters gave the impression that Nuth and Phop will probably have the least to do with the plot (even despite the "?"),

why is the two guys from one of the two main groups then.

It's giving hard "pair up the leftovers" and "we don't know what to do with you" vibes. I wonder if it'll change in the future, there are still 6 episodes ahead of us.

[hog-guy]

obviously i respond EXTREMELY poorly and irrationally to "girls: submission is normal for you and ok!! :)" messaging - even if framed within socialisation stuff - but ultimately i do not think it is making a better world for me. (being mean) i don't care about getting railed by straight Jakey and i wish everyone would shut up. i understand everyone hates women's sexuality so this is approved non christian behaviour but could somebody please direct me to the man pegging community or whatever

[lovecolibri]

Was it, as an episode of 9-1-1, a good emergency rescue episode? Yes! I had a good time! Was it better than the last SEVERAL finales from seasons 5-7? In my opinion, yes.

But. Was it overall a good season finale? Eh. Not particularly.

Once again, they spent too much time setting up the emergencies, and on characters we didn't need so much time on, and not enough on the firefam and their personal interactions, trying to cram them into the last minute or so of the episode, and not actually RESOLVING a lot of the dangling threads from the season! Eddie coming back to the 118 was just a redux of season 5 and we didn't get Chris and Eddie talking and CHOOSING *together* to come back home. We didn't see ANYTHING about Hen and Karen applying to adopt, we just had Athena say she was NOT selling that house and now she is, we didn't see Maddie and Chim discussing baby names, and Buck's whole storyline this whole season and especially back-half has been Eddie leaving and we didn't get anything about them talking about that either!!! He's apparently moving out??

WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE???? We care about these characters, let us SEE these things happen on screen! Honestly, they need to bring the voiceovers back. They truly forced the writers to have a coherent theme for the episode, and show everyone at the end, settling into whatever the next storyline was going to be.

As for Buddie, and mostly Alive!Bobby? Well. Tim's fucking fear of committing fully to anything is killing the show 🤷🏻‍♀️ Because if they had fucking COMMITTED to killing Bobby off, and spent the funeral episode with the 118 and their grief instead of poking fun at the audience with an investigation all episode, they could have pulled it off. EVERYTHING these last two episodes would have hit harder, the audience would have at least felt like they got to say goodbye properly and grieve with the characters, and we could have moved into the next season feeling a little more settled. It's still a shit fucking call for a suicidal character and to leave Athena alone for the THIRD. FUCKING. TIME. But they could have at least been respectful about it! And they could have had Bobby alive and pulled that off too! They could have done it like we saw in the (fake??? apparently??? or draft version???) script to end on a cliffhanger in 8x16 and allowed the audience to have fun with the cast about it while the characters were suffering. But they couldn't stick to a plan and here the fuck we are.

And Buddie??? After all the teasing and interviews and hype, they NEEDED to commit to SOMETHING. A 3rd party confession, a call to El Paso with a comment from the captain to losing out to a partner again, a Buck NDE with panicked (before of after the rescue) Eddie, SOMETHING. A commitment from the show that they are willing to take the plunge and DO this thing (even if it takes some time), instead of just trying anything to build hype while letting the actual writing for the show fall by the wayside.

I just...it's disappointing to see a show and characters with all this potential that keeps getting wasted. And the audience has given this show a LOT of grace, especially the last few years, because of how much good will it earned just in the first 3 to 4 seasons! And Tim burnt through most of it in ONE episode. And at this point? 😬 Good luck to that spin-off because the good will and grace is GONE, and it already sounds bad. The only good thing is maybe they'll finally send Kristen packing (even if it's just to Nashville). No wonder they didn't register the writer ahead of time. People would have preemptively tuned out.

And that? That says it all.

[rizavii]

sorry still mad at that allura post. fandom will really bring out the racism in people like nothing else will. we need to start putting bitches on blast actually. block button isn't enough I need a Monetary Compensation For Having To See That Post button

"she's fictional" yeah but your attitudes to black/brown people in media will 99.999% of the time mirror your attitudes toward black/brown people irl. without fair when I've given vehement allura/katara/korra haters a chance they have been aggressive and racist to me and my friends.

it's just. god it's so tiring to see racism fucking everywhere. and every bitch is an anti-racist advocate until they're confronted and suddenly brown people are just too much to handle. I get so fucking tired.

[antikr1sta]

Cringing bc i started thinking about my month long obsession with gojo from jjk

(yes i bought a cheap ass wig off temu and went to a huge Halloween party;

i kept doing the gojo walk while drinking and then after the party was over i was so wasted I fell asleep on the tram, missed my stop and lost my phone at like 8am;

realized it was missing while pissing in a bush and somehow got it back because the tram driver found it and i called my phone using some random guys phone.)

I KEPT REPEATING "ITS GOJ-OVER" ALL THE TIME I WANT TO PUNCH MY PAST SELF

As a dazai kinnie now i am disappointed and disgusted..

i feel sick

Pics of that god forsaken day

[gayeddie-saved-me]

For "fuck season 9 you know what you did" what was it they did? Because spn has none A LOT

personally s8 and s9 kinda just run together in my head, because most of s8’s plot lines lead right into 9’s. i hate s8 with an intense passion, and a lot of what happens in s9 is too similar to truly separate it. mainly the gadreel plot line, and what happens between sam and dean. it’s a follow up of the trials which are built on the awful s8 sam characterization. the entirety of s8 contradicts itself which leads s9 to do the same, especially since the main point of contention between sam and dean in s9 is gadreel and sam’s insistence that dean betrayed him by saving him. the season ends with dean dying and sam doing exactly what he faulted dean for doing—making the choice to save him no matter the cost (this contradiction continues in s10 too so don’t think s10 is left out of this) idk it’s hard to explain but overall i find the stretch of 8-10 to be incredibly frustrating mainly because it has some half decent plot lines that are ruined by their shitty execution. also the abaddon plot line is boring to me, and dragged on forever. oh and kevin fucking dies and for what??? for their bullshit sam vs dean conflict about doing stupid shit to save each other when sam is the one who started all of this in the first place???? not to mention i don’t enjoy how they handle cas’s plot at ALL. not even just kicking him out of the bunker, but like in general human!cas is just not well written to me. i think they could’ve gone a lot of ways with it and chose like. the most boring ways possible. oh and them bringing back gabriel for one episode only for it to not even be real. stupid ass shit. the funny thing is everyone i know who hates this season hates metatron but i actually don’t mind him as much.

anyway. um. it’s okay if no one agrees with this, i personally don’t enjoy getting into arguments about things that are just my own opinion. i don’t even know if this fully makes sense, i haven’t taken my meds yet m

[themoonofblueside]

i think you either misinterpreted or underestimated max's academy statements... not only were his mom and his sister in karting, but he also had female karting buddies. he was close to women that were serious abt motorsport, he's very much aware it's a gender issue and is questioning why won't the sport do more, not why should it be done if it's not enough. but he's chickenshit abt political-y statements and wouldn't call out FIA so directly with "big" words like discrimination.

It is possible that I misinterpreted his wording, and it might've been that he's going for a "yes, yes, fia and f1 world is deefinitely not prejudiced against women, however-" tactic for the media, but this is honestly not the first time i've seen him state something like "haha of course f1 teams don't judge against genders, they'll choose whoever is faster." and it irritates me to see such...obvious false information?

I am glad max is calling for faster cars and higher ranks in racing for female drivers, i truly hope that he actually does something about it(he doesn't have to, but it's obvious that he cares for competitive racing, and as you've stated his mother did karting so i do wish that at some point max thinks "okay this is very annoying, maybe i should do something about it" because he absolutely has the power to make changes even if they're small).

Which is probably why the first part annoyed me this much, because everyone is aware that the series should be higher, but that won't change with a few think pieces here and there, and like i said, max does have some limit of power as

1) reigning champion of 3 years with championships equaling sebastian this year

2) son of an old wdc with insane amount of connections as one of the most valuable f1 drivers currently

The first part also rubbed me the wrong way, because as I've stated, max did not experience any hardships in regards to sponsorships or finding teams. That is the main problem about women not reaching f2 or f1: even if they are fast as hell, they are still seen as more vulnerable and more "risky" than men for racing. So when a guy who was born and nurtured to race without having to worry about the more economic parts of the motorsports industry and market says that "oh yeah the system is fair, teams choose whoever is faster" i can't help but bristle a little. It shows so much ignorance and honestly arrogance on max's side, and personally that part overshadows his more leveled out and nuanced questionings and opinions.

I really hope that you're right, anon, and that max is aware that it's a gender issue, but i do think that his comments feed the "the best gets to the top, so if only white men are at the top they deserve that spot" way of thinking when things are definitely more complex than that.

[patchworkmirage]

one of those days again (thinking about philip library of ruina)

[a-huge-fuck-off-dragon-bee]

So I've been doing some testing and I have confirmed for myself that this account has just straight up been shadow banned and I am invisible to everyone except for the people who already follow me and even then only my reblogs seem to be visible on the main dash as I appear to be invisible in the activity feed

I'll leave a link to my new account in my description if you would like to follow that

I'll probably be following my mutuals on my new account since I enjoy your blogs and I hope to be more chatty now that I will actually be able to chat

[ditzyrafe]

— squirting in front of bf!rafe for the first time

warnings — oral (fem!rec), squirting, lewd language

the late afternoon light slanted through the blinds, striping your bodies in gold and shadow. sweat slicked the space between your skin and rafe's expensive sheets, which were already twisted into a testament of the last hour. you were close, impossibly close, riding that sharp, sweet edge where pleasure blurred into frantic need. rafe knelt between your thighs, solely focused on pleasuring you. his fingers moved with ruthless precision inside of you, hitting that spot while his thumb worked relentless circles against your clit.

"that's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly purr that vibrated through your bones. he watched your face intently, eyes dark and hooded, tracking the flush spreading across your chest, the way your eyes were blown wide. he loved seeing you come apart for him, loved being the sole reason for the incoherent whimpers escaping your throat. "you can do it."

he shifted slightly, changing the angle of his fingers, adding a deeper pressure that sent a jolt straight through your system. you gasped, hips buckling off the mattress. this felt… different. the usual coiling tension was there, tightening unbearably low in your belly, but beneath it was a strange, building pressure, like an urgent need you couldn't identify. "rafe, i- oh god…"

"cum for me, baby. show me," he commanded softly, his thumb pressing down harder, faster.

the command, coupled with that impossible pressure, tipped you over. but it wasn't just the familiar, shattering waves of orgasm that ripped through you, making you cry out his name. it was accompanied by a sudden, shocking gush. a warm surge erupted from you, soaking the sheets beneath you, spattering onto his hand and wrist.

your eyes flew open in mortified confusion, the last shudders of pleasure mixing with sheer panic. you'd never done that before. "oh my god! rafe, i'm sorry-" you started, cheeks flaming, convinced you'd just humiliated yourself completely.

but rafe wasn't recoiling, wasn't looking at you in disgust. he'd frozen for a split second, feeling the unexpected warmth soak him, then he slowly lifted his slick fingers to his lips, tasting your sweetness on his tongue. a slow, predatory grin spread across his lips, transforming his features. his eyes weren't annoyed; they were blazing with a new, intense fire that burned only for you.

he looked back down at the evidence soaking the bed, then met your gaze again, his cock visibly pulsing with need at the sight of you. "don't you dare be sorry, baby," he murmured, reaching out to trace the edge of the wetness on the sheets with one finger. "you fucking soaked my bed for me." the possessiveness in his tone was sharper now, edged with something primal. "that was the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen."

before you could process his reaction, he surged forward, covering your mouth in a brusing kiss. his hands roughly gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as he aligned his cock near your sensitive folds that were practically still dripping in arousal for him. he drove himself inside of you, hips halting so you could properly adjust to his size. "did that feel good?" he whispered huskily against your ear, his voice thick with raw, predatory pleasure that sent shivers down your spine despite the lingering shock.

"yeah? let'see how much of’a mess you can make on my cock."

taglist ; @13hischiers @rafesprecious @mayanqueenxx @dreewsepj @zoenighshade555 @feverg1rl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @onxlyemery (join here) | divider creds ; @/anitalenia @/fairytopea

© written by ditzyrafe — do not steal or claim as ur own, stealing will result in me blocking u, any resemblance to any other story is simply coincidental!

[churipu]

SAY "DADA" 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. toji cries but he doesn't admit it bye

note. i just spent a good hour watching the "glimpse of us" parents-baby trend, it's so cute. i just had to make something family themed for the jjk men :( i'm so sorry for the lack of updates, i just finished work and boy— it was stressful.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"come on, little guy . . . say dada, da . . . da!" gojo nodded his head slowly, in his grasp stood his one year old son.

all he got in return was a loud strained laugh from the little boy, "it's okay, baby. take it slow, come on, dada . . . da . . ." the blue eyed male softly spells out the word.

"satoru, you've been trying for an hour now." you informed him, eyeing the father-son duo every now and then, "he's going to get it eventually . . ."

gojo chuckled, "i know, baby. 'm just so excited, what if he said his first words when 'm out on a mission," a sad smile etched onto his lips as he cradled the baby in his hold.

"dada!"

it took gojo a few seconds to process what his son just uttered in excitement. slowly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in happiness — gojo cheers loudly, nuzzling his face into your son's little belly, making him craze out in pure euphoria.

"you just said your first word, good job, buddy! 'm so proud of you," gojo muffled out into the baby's tummy, "daddy's so proud of you."

gojo then faced you, "his first word is dada, i'm going to cry . . ."

to which he did, sniffling loudly — making the little boy imitate him, scrunching his face into a big frown before wailing out a loud cry. hearing your baby cry, gojo softly hushed him, patting his back, "no, no, baby. daddy's crying of happiness, not sadness, please don't cry."

"aren't you two just the cutest?" you asked, kissing the baby on his chubby cheek — calming him down almost immediately. his loud cries ceasing down under your touch.

"we are." gojo chuckled, nose raging red from sniffling mucus.

"please get rid of your snot, satoru . . ."

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"come on, dada. say it." toji mutters, pulling on megumi's little cheek — gently, and the baby seemingly annoyed, swats off his father's giant fingers.

toji scoffed, "huh, wonder where y' got that attitude from."

you eyed him, "what do you mean? megumi's exactly just like you — i carry him for nine months and he ends up being a copy of you," you chuckled, ruffling megumi's hair.

the young ten month old baby crawled his way over to you, settling himself on his lap, eyeing his father sharply, "what're y'looking at, huh?"

instinctively you hit toji's bicep gently, "stop that."

"'m not doing anything . . ." toji replies back, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms, "stupid baby."

"dada!" megumi shrieks out, pointing his small finger accusingly at toji, a cute glare looming over his dark eyes, "dada!"

toji blinked once. twice. thrice, and he ended up scoffing, looking away from both you and megumi, "he said his first word, and it's me," toji mutters into his skin, clamping his palm over his lips as his elbow propped down onto the couch's hand rest.

"good job, 'gumi!" you cheered, raising the boy up in the air, kissing his cheek which made the baby erupt in small laughter.

megumi crunched his legs happily, yelling out gibberish with a mix of "dada dada!"

"that's right, dada!" you parrot happily, gently hopping with megumi in your arms. eyeing toji who had been silent, "toji, are you okay?"

he grunted, brushing his face with his hands, "do i not look okay?"

"did you cry?" you ask.

toji grunted yet again in disdain, "why would i cry because the brat said his first word?" he did.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami sat on the floor cross-legged with his eleven month old daughter on his lap as he scanned the newspaper. at every page, his daughter didn't miss every spot on the dull colored paper, pointing at the paper and muttering out incoherent words.

"mhm, that's terrible news, isn't it?" he replies, sipping on his coffee mug.

you emerged from behind the bedroom door, hair disheveled, "good morning," you mumble out, wiping the back of your finger over your eyes.

"dada!"

you froze and eyed your daughter, and nanami did too. his head looked down onto the young girl in amusement, his gaze softening, "your first word . . ." he whispers, carrying the baby into his strong arms.

"you just said your first word, baby!" your raspy morning voice chirped, it was as if your exhaustion had disappeared in a heap of moments and you trotted down the ground, approaching the father-daughter.

"i'm so proud of you," nanami gently placed a kiss on top of his daughter's head, cradling her small body.

you were pulled into a hug by nanami, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you to his side — his cheek leaning on your head in content, "good morning."

"dada dada!" your daughter cheered happily, patting nanami's face with her small hands.

"mhm, i'm dada, baby." he mumbles, letting the young girl do as she likes. you cooed softly at the sight, wrapping an arm around his waist.

a good morning it is.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[arixella]

Hii! I love your fics so much it’s crazy 😭 Can I request maybe a OP character (anyone, strawhats if possible..👀 like Zoro for example WHO SAID THAT??) where reader is such a yapper, like they never stop talking and one day the character had like a bad day or sum and they got annoyed at reader speaking too much so they tell them to shut up or like something like that, but then reader gets hit by a devil fruit ability and gets mute for some times?? It would be very appreciated thank youu😙

The Silence Between Us

╰┈➤ pairing: Zoro x gn! reader

a/n: hey yall ive been on vacation sorry but im working on everyones request and the request box is closed rn 😭 (edit: it’s open now!)

summary: After Zoro snaps at your constant talking during a bad day, you're struck by a Devil Fruit power that renders you mute — forcing him to confront just how much your voice, and your presence, mean to him.

wc: 2.0k

contains: Hurt/comfort, angst with fluff, emotional vulnerability, soft romance, slow-burn tone,

You always had something to say.

From the moment the sun peeked over the horizon to the late hours of the night, you filled the air with words — stories, questions, dreams, wild thoughts, jokes (some good, some terrible). You talked to Chopper while he worked, to Robin while she read, to Nami while she navigated, and especially to Zoro while he trained.

He pretended not to listen most of the time, grunting or responding with “mm” or “tch,” but you kept talking anyway, never really needing a reply.

You didn’t notice the tension until it broke.

The crew had returned from a rough skirmish on a new island. Everyone was exhausted. Zoro had taken the brunt of it — again — after shielding a village from a collapsing cliff with nothing but his swords and his own body. He hadn’t said much the whole walk back. You followed him onto the Sunny, chattering all the way.

“And then Sanji totally panicked when the lady offered him ten kids in exchange for soup, did you see that? And oh my god, did you catch Usopp trying to bribe the snake guy with candy? Also—”

“Can you just shut up for five seconds?”

You froze mid-sentence.

The words landed like a slap, not loud, but sharp. Zoro didn’t yell. He didn’t even look at you. His brows were furrowed, jaw tight, eyes shadowed by frustration and fatigue.

“I’ve had a shit day,” he muttered, turning away. “I can’t deal with your constant talking right now.”

You stood there, mouth slightly open, hands half-raised in some unfinished gesture. The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time, you didn’t have a comeback. You didn’t even try to laugh it off.

“…Right,” you said quietly, backing away. “Sorry.”

You left him on the deck without another word.

The next day, you were on a scouting mission with Luffy and Brook when it happened.

You were talking — of course — something about the shape of clouds looking like mashed potatoes when a strange-looking woman stepped out from behind a tree, pointed a finger at you, and said:

“Silencio.”

A ripple of air hit your chest. You blinked.

Nothing felt wrong… until you tried to ask Luffy what just happened and—

Nothing.

Your mouth moved. No sound came out.

Panic set in quickly. You clutched your throat. Tried again. Nothing.

Brook gasped. Luffy shouted something incoherent and charged after the enemy Devil Fruit user. You were left there, speechless in the most literal way, voice stolen.

By the time the crew returned and explained what had happened, you had already started writing notes to communicate. Chopper confirmed it: a Silence-Silence Fruit. The mute effect would wear off — eventually — but no one knew exactly when.

Zoro found out later that evening.

He saw you at dinner, sitting quietly at the table. Not talking. Not laughing. Not making a single comment about Sanji’s overly decorative dessert or Franky’s attempt at sea-cucumber cola.

It was Nami who finally said it.

“They got cursed or something by a Devil Fruit user,” she muttered, stabbing her food. “They can’t speak for a while.”

Zoro nearly dropped his plate.

He stood slowly, heart pounding, and stepped out onto the deck.

You were there already, sitting on the edge, knees pulled to your chest, the waves reflecting in your eyes. You heard his footsteps and looked up, giving a small smile, polite and distant.

He hated it.

“I… didn’t know,” he said quietly. “They just told me.”

You nodded.

Zoro stepped closer. “Was it when you went with Luffy? That’s when—”

You nodded again, slower this time.

He stopped beside you and sat down, his jaw clenching.

“You’re not talking,” he muttered. “Feels weird.”

You gave him a small shrug. The silence stretched.

Zoro stared out at the water. “…I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.”

You didn’t look at him.

“I was tired. In pain. I snapped. That’s not an excuse, but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You hugged your knees tighter.

“You talk a lot,” he said, a little helplessly. “But I like it. I got used to it. It’s just—sometimes my head’s too full. And I took it out on you. That was my screw-up.”

He glanced sideways at you. You were listening, really listening — but your expression was unreadable. He sighed.

“I miss your voice,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

You blinked, surprised.

“I mean it,” he said, meeting your eyes. “This silence? It’s worse than the noise.”

You looked down, then slowly reached into your pocket, pulling out a folded scrap of paper and a pencil stub. You scribbled something and handed it to him.

“It’s okay. I know I talk too much sometimes.”

Zoro stared at the words, then looked back at you.

“No, it’s not okay,” he said firmly. “You talk because it’s part of who you are. It’s how you connect with people. It’s how you make the ship feel… alive. I was just too selfish to see that yesterday.”

You wrote something else.

“Did you mean it, though? When you told me to shut up?”

Zoro flinched. He didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the deck, fists clenched.

“I meant I needed quiet. I didn’t mean to hurt you. If I could take it back…” He exhaled hard. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to silence.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, slowly, your hand reached over and took his — fingers warm and soft around his calloused ones. You gave it a small squeeze.

Zoro looked at your joined hands, then at you.

“Next time I need space,” he said quietly, “I’ll say it without being a bastard. And when you get your voice back… I hope you’ll talk even more, just to punish me.”

That made you huff — soundless, but clearly a laugh — and you leaned against his side, resting your head on his shoulder. He let you, turning slightly so he could rest his cheek against your hair.

The sea rocked beneath the Sunny. The stars blinked quietly above. And even without words, everything you needed to say was there — in the silence, in the shared warmth, in the way Zoro held your hand just a little tighter.

And when your voice finally came back days later, the first thing you did was say his name.

Zoro turned immediately, eyes wide, and you smiled and whispered, “Still love you, even when you’re a jerk.”

He didn’t answer.

He just pulled you in and kissed you like your words were the only ones that mattered.

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[meowdei]

female reader ; non curse au ; established relationship ; reader lays on sukuna ; written bc i’m moving and can’t help but imagine sharing an apartment with him (i want someone to help me carry heavy boxes with flexing muscles as i take in the view)

“I can’t find the box with my bras,” you whine. It’s miserable, the look on your face. It fills Sukuna with unbridled joy as he cracks a thickly amused grin.

“Good,” he grunts in approval, “you don’t need them, anyway.”

“I do,” you glare. It takes all of three seconds before the reality dawns on you—and then he’s snickering as your glare becomes harsher. “You put it somewhere, didn’t you?” You accuse him through narrowed eyes.

“Me? I’d never.”

“I should’ve known moving in with you was a mistake,” you snap, “I’m moving back.”

“Too late. We paid for the moving truck.”

“Well, technically you paid for the moving truck,” you correct him, letting your lips stretch into a smug grin.

He scowls, rolling his eyes before slumping onto the bed with a groan. You follow him, curling up beside him as your head finds his chest and his arm tucks under your body to cocoon you closer. You inhale, he exhales, and even if your paces don’t match, your uneven breaths form a pretty solid rhythm.

“I’m gonna need my bras,” you insist.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “I’ll get the box from my trunk later. I’m tired, woman.”

“We still have to unpack—”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” he clicks his teeth in distaste. “I need rest—I did all the heavy lifting, since someone refused.”

“It’s what the man is for,” you hum cheekily.

“So then why didn’t you do it?” He raises a brow. You shoot him an unimpressed look at his smart comment, a tight lipped, sarcastic smile splaying on your lips as you let out a humorless chuckle.

“You’re right,” you nod seriously, “it’s my job to treat the lady right. Sorry you had to sprain your back with my boxes, princess,” you pat his cheek.

“The fuck are you on about?” The look of pure disgust on his face makes you break out into giggles, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he grumbles something incoherently under his breath. You hear bits and fragments of it. Something along the lines of such a handful and give me migraines that you don’t fully catch, but they manage to amuse you all the same.

“You’re pretty enough to play the part,” you hum, shifting your body to roll on top of his. You hover over him, and Sukuna lets out a dramatic grunt. You pretend—and it’s only out of the goodness of your heart—that his cheeks aren’t slightly rosy from the comment you made.

“You’re heavy,” he says (to which you gasp, offended) as he squeezes your ass (you gasp again and smack his chest this time) and shoots you a grin with no shame (you stare for just a strict second—and a strict second only—at his dimples).

“Don’t lie,” you huff, “that’s an insult to that gym regimen of yours.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He asks smugly, mouth curving in that ridiculously annoying, yet stupidly handsome way as he adds, “bet you’re eye-fuckin’ me through that mirror as I life weights all the time.”

“I’m too busy worrying about those shaky arms giving out and leaving you to die under the weight.”

“Very funny,” he scowls, “you could pay our rent with stand up comedy alone.”

“Being my princess isn’t enough? Now you need to be my sugar-baby, too?”

“Enough,” he hisses, one hand coming to your face to keep you away as you break into a fit of laughs and try to give him a cheeky peck to the lips. “Stay away from me.”

“No, we’re roomies now.”

“We are not roommates,” he says, irritated by the idea. “That sounds like we’re fuckin’ strangers.”

“You’re right,” you nod thoughtfully, “I guess we can call it two mutually benefiting individuals that have decided to split costs to save money on a living space in an unforgivingly harsh economy—”

“You talk too much,” he mutters. And mainly just to shut you up (but maybe, perhaps, possibly for one of the mutual benefits, too), his hand grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. You cut yourself off by letting out a muffled gasp as his tongue presses against yours—messy, heated, and surprisingly gentle.

“Well, that was rather passionate. You know what they say about roommates,” you wiggle your brows as you pull away. He purses his lips in an agitated expression as he glares at your stubborn word choice.

“Stop callin’ me your fuckin’ roommate,” he demands.

You laugh. It’s soft—a light, airy noise. The sound bounces off the walls that are his and yours and echoes along the space between your pressed-up bodies. Along the boxes littered across the floor and the suitcases lined up in the corner. Along the clothes you insisted you needed that he hasn’t seen you wear in months as they lay in a heap on his closet floor. Along the kitchen table where you’ll have breakfast, and the living room where you’ll watch movies, and the bathroom sink where you’ll fight over space to brush your teeth.

He’ll never tell you directly (because he has dignity, of course) but he could really get used to living somewhere that houses a sound like that. A sound that makes him realize the difference between the space he lives in, and the place he calls home.

Home, he thinks to himself for a moment. Home is where your laugh echoes, ringing obnoxiously in his ear. Sukuna doesn’t think any living space will ever be the same again without it.

“Since we live together now—” you murmur, breaking him from his thoughts as you lean in to peck his lips. He hums in a rare, soft, content little sound that you don’t get to hear too often. “—I can finally decorate your plain ass apartment.”

His brows scrunch in horror as he registers your words. “Absolutely not—”

“Muah,” you cut him off with another peck to his mouth, “I’m thinking earthy tones, what about you?”

——————————

I carried like 20 something heavy ass boxes to and from my car nonstop today and every time I felt my poor arms get sore, I thought: wouldn’t it be so nice to have someone like sukuna and his four arms to do all the work while I sit and look gorgeous? He doesn’t have four arms in this fic, but that’s honestly his problem not mine. Just carry the damn boxes I’m just a girl