#Sorry to bring up your tags prev but it really made me think about it a bit more

[duncanor]

Those tags are really funny don't get me wrong but this isnt what I meant ^^ and I think that people putting all the blame on Jayce are really missing the point actually!

What makes theirs narratives so heartbreaking to me is that it wasn't 'fumbling', it was no incident. No matter what they could have done, they were doomed. Since Jayce was saved by that mage, since Viktor was born in Zaun.

What if they'd given up on Hextech? What would've become of them? Well, for Jayce, he would've jumped. And for Viktor..pilltover disdain for Zaunites would've claimed another victim sooner than later.

So yeah, this dream of theirs saved their lives. But as Heimerdinger said, magic tend to turn dreams into nightmares. And it did turn into just that. And there's nothing that they could've done to stop it without sacrificing themselves...but in doing so.. They also sacrificed everyone else.

That's what I meant by 'the real tragedy was that nothing worked'. Because it couldn't have. They were never going to be saved.

It was fate but they couldn't accept it because they loved their dream, they loved the people and they loved each others. And yet, this is what their blind, dream-like, love brought. Death, destruction, hatred and

...betrayal.

I know people are focused on Jayce right now but I do believe Viktor own quote about love making us do the most evil things also applies to himself (even if he didn't get it at the time).

His miracles had a price and not just 'his' magic. Jayce seeing them as arcane husks, Viktor being able to see/speak through them, their lives bein' so intertwined that if Viktor dies they all do, like puppet whose strings were cut...

The real tragedy of Jayce killing Viktor is that Viktor genuinely thought he was realizing their dream, that he was finally helping his people but then he got betrayed by the one who made that dream possible in the first place. And Jayce.. He tried to stop this nightmare from developing further, corrupting whatever was left of his partner.

The real tragedy is that nothing worked.

[coryndoll]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

prev next

authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[saralovesyouu]

“Come back to me, I’ll wait for you.”

Devastated and exhausted, you were still mourning losing Mitsuba a second time. You refused to get out of bed, and only did when Teru asked you to because your grades were a mess. Kou decided to show you the photos Mitsuba had took before. The incident. You tried spending most of your time with Yokoo and Satou, who didn’t really know why you were upset but still tried to comfort you. After the you did your part of helping them get rid of the hands, you thought you were done with supernaturals for the day. But when Kou dragged you off saying Yashiro had gone missing, and you needed to enter some boundary and he wanted you there. You kind of had to tag along. But unexpectedly, you find someone there.

Warnings: Cursing, reader feeling like shit (‘m sorry about that), comforting from Yokoo and Satou, Kou also sorta feeling like shit, your aunt trying to help you out of bed but still keep you safe, some angst again, etc,.

(A/N) : Last chapter of Act I!! Hope you enjoy it. I’ve been feeling like absolute shit these past few days so writing this to distract myself has made me feel so much better. I’m pretty sure this is proofread but if there’s anything wrong with it lmk!!

Prev. << Next end of Act I

You couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed, not for anything. Not even after the countless times Yokoo and Satou begged you to come, not after Yashiro came over to try and get you up, not even after your aunt talked to you about it.

You just couldn’t.

You’d spent more nights crying than you could ever count, and kept thinking back to that moment. The squelching noise, that scream. It all haunted you like there was no tomorrow.

Your aunt had to bring you in food, and make sure you actually ate it. She sat with you while you cried about it, and she hugged you through it. She even called in sick from work to stay at home just for a day to comfort you.

“Shhh.. hey it’s okay.” She tried to reassure for the nth time this day.

You didn’t seem to be getting better.

“It’s not okay! There should’ve been something I could’ve done! Something I didn’t do.” You cried into your pillow, eyes red and puffy from all your tears.

She pursed her lips, not knowing what to do to comfort you. Nothing seemed to help. All she could do was make sure you ate and drink a little water. And of course make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, she was still a bit paranoid from what happened.

Out of no where, there was a knock on the door.

“Ah.. I’ll go get it.” She said, giving you one last pitiful glance before heading downstairs.

“Hey is (Y/N) here?” You heard someone say.

“Yeah she’s upstairs in her room.” Your aunt replied.

“Okay thank you.” They answered.

You heard footsteps, and groaned.

“Look Yokoo, I already said I don’t want to get up—“

“It’s not Yokoo.” Teru chuckled.

He walked over to your bed and sat with you.

“You doing okay? You and Kou both seem really out of it.” He asked, moving his hand to rub soothing circles in your back.

“No.” Was all you could answer, knowing how he felt about spirits you knew you probably shouldn’t tell him why.

“Listen, you need to come back to school. Your grades are plummeting so bad right now, and your friends miss you a lot.” Teru explained, making you lightly chuckle.

“Great, thanks so much for adding more stress! I thought it was impossible but somehow you did.” You answered sarcastically with a sigh.

He only playfully rolled his eyes, “Look, if it helps anything—I’ll help you with your missing work.”

“Just please come back to school? We all miss you a lot. And I think both you and Kou could use some support.” He pleaded, his pretty blue eyes sparkled with determination to get you out of bed.

You groaned, falling back onto your bed.

“I don’t know..” you mumbled.

“I won’t try to exorcise Hanako for..” he paused “a few days.”

You snorted, shaking your head with a fond smile.

“Deal.”

He smiled.

“Okay. It’s only 9:20, so you still have time to get to school. Even if it’s late, don’t worry I’ll excuse you.” He assured, “so get ready and I’ll walk you to school.”

You sighed as you got out of bed, and he went to wait downstairs for you.

You got dressed, and went into the bathroom to wash your face and do the rest of your skincare routine so you didn’t look like you’d been crying so much, and after you were satisfied that you didn’t look like a total mess as bad, you walked downstairs to find Teru.

He was sitting on the couch, just scrolling around on his phone. You went to go out on your shoes, and swung your backpack over your shoulder. He turned his phone off and stood up.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

.

.

Teru walked you into the middle school divison, and quickly took you with him to the student council room.

“Hang on, wait one second let me just do something real quick.” He hummed, unlocking his computer and opened what seemed to be an attendance sheet and marked your name off as ‘excused tardy’.

“Okay, ‘m gonna go drop you off at class and tell the teacher that you were late cause of my fault.” He explained, already leading you towards your second period class.

He opened the door for you and allowed you in, and went to go whisper something to the teacher. Yokoo looked at you excitedly, and Satou smiled upon seeing you. You didn’t see Kou in his seat, so you assumed he was out with Hanako and Yashiro.

“What made you feel like getting up out of bed?” Yokoo asked curiously.

“Are you hungry? I have some sweets with me.” Satou asked, digging around in his backpack to look for said sweets.

“Teru dragged me out of bed.” You exaggerated with a sigh, leaning against Yokoo dramatically.

Satou just shook his head with a smile, and Yokoo played along pretending to catch you.

“Well did you sleep good at least?” Yokoo asked.

You paused for a moment.

“..Definitely.”

“Liar.” Satou sighed “Here, have some.” He said, offering you some of his sweets.

You took a few, thanking Satou.

“You seemed pretty down enough to not come to school for a few days.. you hadn’t been that down since Mitsuba—“ Yokoo stopped himself.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He winced apologetically, realizing what he just brought up.

You pursed your lips, but you couldn’t get mad at Yokoo. You knew he and Satou were only worried and meant no harm.

“It’s fine, but can someone catch me up on what we’re learning? I’m a little lost.” You chuckled nervously, trying lighten up the mood—trying to forget about Mitsuba.

“Yeah, no problem!” Yokoo chirped.

Yokoo and Satou explained the lesson for you, letting you copy down their notes so you wouldn’t fall too behind. You groaned as you leaned back in your seat, already hating how much you missed in your absence.

“Where’s Kou by the way?” You asked, sitting back up after a few more moments.

“Oh him? All he said is he’d be busy, I don’t think he’s been in class at all.” Satou hummed.

“You should probably go see him, he didn’t look too good.” Yokoo suggested, kicking his feet lightly.

“I will after class.”

.

.

The bell had long since rung, and kids rushed out to their next class. Yokoo and Satou had said their goodbyes and told you they’d see you at lunch, so you were trying to get your stuff altogether.

“Don’t think of running off with those cockroaches.” Teru sighed as he waited by the door for you.

You jumped a bit, not really expecting him to wait for you after class.

“They aren’t cockroaches..” you mumbled, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and he gave you a look that said ‘are you sure about that?’.

You sighed, “Okay, maybe some are. But they aren’t all.” you tried to explain.

You paused, biting your lip a bit “But I’m not gonna do anything having to do with the supernatural anytime soon, so I won’t run off.”

Teru gave you a satisfied smile.

“Why are you even here? Are you going to make sure I don’t skip off to Hanako and the others or?” You trailed off.

“No,” Teru denied “I was actually here to pick you up.”

“I talked to the teachers and let them know you’d be with me for the rest of the day,” he hummed.

“Working on your missing assignments.”

You groaned as you made your way towards the door, looking at Teru with pleading eyes as if it would convince him to just let you go with the others. He smiled and shook his head fondly, leading you towards the student council room.

“Oh and by the way,” he said opening the door for you “I let Kou know you’re here so I’m sure he’ll stop by soon.”

“Soon like now?” Kou asked as he entered the student council room.

“I thought you’d stop by later but yeah, soon.” Teru confirmed with a hum.

“Can I borrow (Y/N)?” Kou asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“For what?” Teru asked.

“Something.” Was all Kou managed to mutter.

“No, sorry. After she finishes at least half of this work,” Teru emphasized, referring to the small stack of packets and papers that you thought to be your missing assignments “then you can take her for a bit.”

You groaned, flopping down on the seat in front of Teri’s desk.

“So mean.” Kou mumbled with a pout, walking out.

“So,” Teru cleared his throat, dropping a small stack of papers in front of you “let’s get started.”

You pouted with a whine, letting your head fall forward and hitting the desk in frustration.

.

.

The bell had rung a fourth time since you’ve gotten there, and it was now time for lunch.

“Well, your a little bit close to halfway done.” Teru mumbled holding up a pinch of the paperwork, holding it up to examine it.

Kou burst through the door, swinging it open.

“It’s lunch time now, and I’m pretty sure (Y/N)’s hungry.” Kou said, trying to indirectly hint if it was okay to borrow you now.

“Go ahead but be back right after.” Teru instructed, and you just pouted with a nod.

“Great,” Kou mumbled, grabbing hold of your wrist “will definitely—“ he sprinted out with you “not.”

Kou laughed a bit, but when he noticed you didn’t seem to even smile his expression dropped.

He came to a stop, at the staircase leading up to the roof, sitting down on a bench nearby.

“You doing okay?” Kou asked.

“Not really.” You muttered, sitting by him.

“Well I have something to show you.” Kou smiled, bringing something from his backpack’s front pocket.

He took it out gingerly, as if it was the most fragilest of glass and would break with even the slightest wrong look.

They were Mitsuba’s developed pictures.

“I had them printed out as soon as I could..” he whispered, though he didn’t know why if it was just the two of you “I already looked at them last night, but—“ his voice cracked a bit as he chuckled lightly “I thought you might want to see them too.”

He carefully handed the small stack of photos to you, and you—just as carefully—took them.

There were many pictures.

Some were meant to be funny, and others were genuinely beautiful.

Like when Kou got attacked by the mother cat when he tried grabbing one of it’s kitten’s. Or when Mitsuba took that photo of Kou while he was standing on his shoulders.

There were also some like the birds nest, and of some he took while in the school garden. But the one that made you tear up—

Was the one he took of you and Kou.

You grit your teeth in frustration, in anger—thinking back to that moment.

“I’ll make that asshole pay one way or another.” You say through a choked out sob.

Kou looked at you with a solemn face, pursing his lips before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder “And I’ll be there to help you when you do.”

You looked at him, and he looked at you. And for the first time since you both had met, you didn’t laugh at the eye contact. Instead, your eyes welled up with regretful tears, tears of grievance at its finest.

“Oh, there you two are!” Yokoo exclaimed gleefully, practically skipping towards you both as Satou trailed behind him.

“What’re you two weirdo’s doing?” Satou joked, sitting beside you as Yokoo sat on the other side of Kou.

Yokoo shot him a glare after realizing you and Kou were on the verge of tears, and Satou immediately took the hint that now wasn’t the time for that.

“Wanna tell us what’s going on?” Satou finally said after a few moments of silence.

Yokoo pursed his lips when he got no answer from either of you, so he spoke up too.

“Look, whatever you both are going through. You can tell us, you know that right?” Yokoo asked, but continued after still the both of you didn’t answer “Just know we’re here for you. Whatever you guys are going through, we’ll get through it altogether.” he looked over at Satou “Right, Satou?”

“Yeah of course. We’re all friends, and as friends we have to look out for each other.” Satou agreed with a hum.

There was a few more seconds of silence before anyone spoke again.

“You ever know that feeling…” you finally managed to croak out after a while longer “when you thought you finally found something you lost a long while ago, someon—“ you stopped yourself before continuing “something very special to you, and then for someone to just. Snatch it out of your hands?”

Kou lightly chuckled, but it came out sadder than he intended “And when you actually got to see another side of a person you just met, and got to know them better—only for them to disappear the next second?”

Satou and Yokoo exchanged glances, as if they were trying to communicate with each other to see what you guys meant by that. But they found themselves empty minded.

“I don’t necessarily understand,” Yokoo started, already hugging Kou to provide some sort of comfort “but I know whatever it is. It’s really tough for you to be feeling like this.”

“Yeah,” Satou confirmed, hugging you too, connecting with Yokoo to form a group hug “we’re your friends. And as your friends we wanna tell you that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

And just then, you broke down in tears, babbling about how you lost someone so special to you a second time and this time you’ll never get them back. Kou followed soon after, except he just silently cried.

“Shhh.. there, there.” Yokoo whispered “Let it all out.”

The two boys hugged you both as you cried, comforting you in silence.

“God you guys are the best.” You hiccuped with a small chuckle that came out more as a sob.

Satou smiled, and Yokoo just replied “We know.”

.

.

After a while longer, the bell rang again. You, Satou, Kou, and Yokoo had been talking, the two mostly trying to distract you guys from crying—trying to get a smile out of you.

From around the corner, Teru came and you groaned.

“C’mon, it’s time to get back to your missing work.” Teru hummed, leaning against the wall as he waited for you to get up.

You pouted, but got up and said your goodbyes.

“You didn’t actually eat,” Teru began as you started walking back to the student council room “did you?”

And as if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you flushed out of embarrassment. Teru sighed, turning in a different direction.

“Let’s get you something to eat.. I think I might have a spare lunch in the office.” Teru explained.

And he did, luckily for you. After taking one bite, you almost immediately recognized it as Kou’s cooking—and practically gobbled up the rest of it.

“Woah, slow down your going to end up choking.” Teru laughed.

“But it’s Kou’s cooking!” You pouted, taking another bite “You could never.”

“Okay that was ONE time.” Teru groaned, remembering how he nearly burnt down their kitchen.

“Yeah, that ‘ONE’ time was a near death experience for me.” You sighed dramatically, making Teru smile.

“It’s good to see your somewhat better now.” He hummed.

“What do you mean?” You asked, taking one last bite of the delicious lunch Kou prepared.

“I mean, your not as gloomy right now as you were earlier.” He smiled, ruffling your hair.

You swatted his hands away from your hair, “Must’ve been the magic of Kou’s cooking.”

“Must’ve.” Teru agreed, “Now that I know you won’t be complaining about an empty stomach,” he dropped the rest of your missing assignments in front of you “we can finish this.”

“So mean to me.”

.

.

For the next few days you tried to get over it. But I mean, you couldn’t, really. If you thought losing someone the first time was hard, imagine losing them a second time. Yokoo and Satou tried to help too, they kept you busy, and Yokoo even found out some way to let you in his soccer practice to ‘blow off some steam’ as he put it.

“God, I don’t understand how you’re able to do this for what?” You asked, taking a sip from the water bottle Yokoo had given you, to which he replied “About an hour and a half.”

“I can’t even last ten minutes.” You chuckled lightly.

“But you’re distracted, right?” He asked, gently nudging you with his shoulder.

You smiled, “I am actually.”

He smiled right back, “Then that’s all that matters.”

“Now c’mon, let’s go back to practice—“ Yokoo got up and beckoned you towards him, when Kou came along “Sorry Yokoo but I REALLY need to borrow. (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay, see you later then (Y/N).” Yokoo exclaimed as he ran back to the rest of his teammates.

“See ya!” You shouted after him.

“What is it?” You asked, turning around to Kou.

“There’s a bunch of hands, just popping around everywhere.” Kou explained “Hanako suggested we play with them so they’ll go away, so far it’s worked.”

“What is that have to do with me?” You sighed.

Kou gave you a playfully glare, rolling his eyes fondly.

“We could use the extra hands.” He hummed, making you chuckle a bit.

“Don’t you already have a lot?” You joked. “Need more hands to get rid of the extra hands.” You snorted.

“Well will you help?” Kou asked, he paused before adding “I know you’re trying to take a break from anything supernatural right now but we could use the help.”

You thought about it for a second, but gave in when you saw the pleading look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, making Kou cheer.

.

.

“That should be the last of them!” Hanako exclaimed, jumping around in the air excitedly.

“Whew.” You say, slumping against one of the bathroom stall doors.

Out of no where, a hand appeared from the bathroom mirror, and Yashiro approached it.

“Just one left!” Yashiro informed, looking back at it.

“That actually wore me out..” Hanako whined, making you chuckle “one of those guys hit me.”

You ‘coughed’, “Sounds like a major skill issue.” which earned you a playful glare from Hanako.

“Most of the pictures are all cleaned up too.” Kou confirmed, flipping through the yearbook.

“Wait..” Kou paused “now that I look at it.. you’re wearing a different uniform in this picture.”

“That’s from last year!” Yashiro chirped, looking over Kou’s shoulder to see better “When I was in middle school.”

“Cool!” Kou exclaimed.

“But wow,” he then continued “these are really good pictures.”

“Yeah! We had a kid from the photography club take them,” Yashiro hummed “I’m pretty sure his name should be on the last page.”

You and Kou gave each other a hesitant look, and you walked over to check too. And there it was.

Mitsuba Sousuke.

Out of no where, the hand from the mirror grabbed Yashiro’s wrist, and she hummed “What is it?”

“Have you decided what you want to pl—“ the hand cut her off, a mouth morphed onto its figure.

“Come to this side.”

It began to drag her inside the mirror.

“Yashiro!” Both Hanako and Kou panicked.

“Hanako!” Yashiro managed to yelp out.

Said ghost boy quickly got up “Grab my—“ but it was too late, his fingers just barely skimmed hers as she was sucked into the mirror like some type of portal.

“She’s…” Kou paused.

“gone.” I mumbled, and as if on cue—a droplet of water fell from the sink faucet.

Panicked, Kou got up and shouted “I’m coming Yashiro!” As he tried to force himself through the mirror.

“Kid! Stop it kid! Bad kid!” Hanako yelled, grabbing Kou from under his arms to pull him away from the mirror, making you giggle a bit at the way Hanako was referring to Kou as ‘kid’ “Don’t break the mirror!”

“That’s a boundary..” Hanako began to explain “specifically number 3’s”

“School mystery number three?” Kou asked.

“Yes.” Hanako muttered in agreement.

“I mean there’s a really only one supernatural mirror leading to this place—“ Hanako got interrupted.

“The hell of mirrors, right?” You asked “I don’t know how I know that but I do.”

“Yeah, so it has to be this one.” Hanako informed before sighing “I would like to go with her immediately but..” he paused.

“To put it simply, when you go into number 3’s boundary it attacks you.. with things you don’t want to see. Things you’re afraid of.” He looked at you both before continuing “In other words, the strength of the boundary changes based on who’s inside. If I’m not careful, I could make it stronger just by going I’m there.”

But you and Kou weren’t really paying attention, you were both looking at the yearbook Mitsuba had taken pictures for.

“Hey have you two been listening to me at all?” Hanako whined, grabbing onto your shoulders.

In a panic, Kou shut the book at faced him “You were telling us about how filthy your mind is sir!”

That alone made you burst into laughter as Hanako stared in disbelief, then muttered “Yeah well.. I won’t deny that.”

“We have to figure out what to do and fast.” Kou sighed, you felt bad seeing him look so worried for Yashiro’s safety.

“Yeah.” Hanako mumbled.

“Because number 3’s approach is most likely going to depend on what Yashiro is afraid of.” You mumbled, earning a shocked glance from Hanako which turned into a smirk.

“Hey you’re a quick learner aren’t you?” He teased “You caught on faster than Mr. Exorcist here.”

“I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with the supernatural or ghosts for a while, but I think Mr. Tsuchigomori might know something.” Hanako rambled.

“So can you please help?” They asked.

“Please?” Kou begged “For your favorite exorcist.”

“And your favorite apparition.” Hanako added with a sly grin.

“Who said you two were my favorites?” You asked sarcastically, but still smiled.

“Alright fine, but if he doesn’t know something I won’t be helping out.” You finally gave in.

Hanako and Kou both cheered, jumping around like children anxious to go trick-or-treating on Halloween.

.

.

Yashiro’s yelp seemed to echo aimlessly around the dimly lit room, hands began to sprout from the floor. She winced as she was met with something, something wet.

“Water!” She panicked, scrambling to her feet.

Little scale-like pieces began to emerge on her soft skin as she went on to see where she was at, or more so who’s boundary she was in.

Thump, thump, thump.

Footsteps? She thought, swiftly turning her head in panic that something dangerous might’ve been lingering in the dark.

“Hello?” she called, trying to see what she could in the dark room.

She saw a figure, one she thought was feminine, but upon closer examination she found it was a boy. More so, a middle school boy. His eyes looked a bit sunken, as the hands surrounded him. He tilted his head up, to look at her.

“Who are you?” She asked, tilting her head as well to get a better view of him.

Yashiro had a million questions running through her head, who was this boy? Was he a ghost? What’s he doing here? She was dragged out of her trance when said boy was towering over her.

Now that he was closer, Yashiro realized how he looked and a blush covered her face. His rosy eyes startled silently at her, before speaking up.

“You..” he called.

“Yes?” Yashiro panicked, standing up straight.

The boy looked left, then right, before sighing. His once innocent look was replaced with a taunting smirk.

“..have pretty fat ankles, huh?”

Yashiro froze in place, a bit dumbfounded that someone so adorable would say something so vulgar.

The boy sighed, crossing his arms.

“Aww, I thought someone was finally here to help me, but it’s just some horseradish..”

“I-I’m not a horseradish!” Yashiro retorted defensively with a pout.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Mitsuba sighed.

Yashiro kept asking questions, and Mitsuba didn’t have any intention to answer much or any of them, so he walked to the door at the end of the corridor and opened it.

He then walked over to Yashiro and grabbed her by the little accessories on her belt. “This way.” He said.

“This is one of the boundary’s of the seven mysteries..” he explained after a while “the hell of mirrors.”

“Or..” he paused, stopping in his tracks to look at Yashiro with an unsure look “I guess that’s it’s name.”

“But that’s all I know.”

Yashiro looked around in amazement, everywhere she turned there were mirrors of different shapes, sizes, colors, and designs. But there was one thing they all had in common.

They all had an eerie feeling to it, it sent shivers down Yashiro’s spine.

“There’re mirrors.. everywhere.” She mumbled in awe.

“Yeah, I can see that Ms. Obvious.” Mitsuba sighed, playfully rolling his eyes.

But Yashiro wasn’t paying enough attention to care, she was too busy thinking.

“I’m Mitsuba.”

Yashiro made a small ‘huh?’ noise before turning to look at him.

“I’m stuck here and I have no idea to get out of this mess.” He complained, slumping down against the railings.

“Mitsuba? You’re..” she paused, eyeing him curiously “from the middle school division, right?”

“Are you a ghost? And..” she paused to look at him “have we met somewhere?”

“I..” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat “don’t know.”

“Who cares? None of that matters now anyways.” He sighed, his rosy eyes flinched a bit, as if maybe trying to hold back tears.

“I guess we’ll have to get out of this place first! But..” she paused “why did you bring me here?”

Mitsuba didn’t say anything for a moment or two, clearing his throat and pointing at the hands still sprouting from the floor.

“Well I wanted someone who could help me,” he explained “so I asked them to find someone for me.”

The hands excitedly exclaimed a small “yeah!” popping around enthusiastically.

“Are they friends of yours, Mitsuba?” Yashiro asked sweetly, bending down to shake their hands.

Mitsuba scoffed with an offended expression.

“Are you suggesting I’m friends with my right hand??” He shouted “Would you please not be so vulgar!”

“I didn’t say they were right hands..” Yashiro mumbled, looking over at a few left hands.

“Besides..” Mitsuba sighed “the only friend I can remember, is..”

He looked at Yashiro and then away.

“Wait why am I telling you this?” Mitsuba scoffed.

“Who is it?” Yashiro asked.

“What do you mean?” Mitsuba replied, tilting his head a bit to show his confusion.

“Your friend,” she insisted “the one you could remember?”

“It’s..” he looked hesitant to tell her, but then thought she might know where to find her, so she gave in.

“Her name’s (Y/N)..” he whispered, Yashiro just managed to hear.

“(Y/N)?” Yashiro repeated.

“Yeah.. it’s kind of a weird story. I don’t know why she’s the only one I remember. I just remember waking up, no memory of anything or anyone.”

“Just her.”

Yashiro gave him a pitiful look, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well,” she began “first let’s get out of here. And then, I think I might have an idea of where she might be.” she said with a smile.

“Really?” He asked excitedly, shooting up from his slouching position.

“Of course.” Yashiro confirmed.

“Well then..” he mumbled, looking up at Yashiro, leaning his head down on his arms and batting his pretty eyelashes at her “will you help me out of here?”

Yashiro felt a pang in her heart, to her, Mitsuba looked like an innocent puppy. And when he saw that look of awe in her eyes, he knew his charm worked.

“I can’t make any promises,” she cleared her throat “but this isn’t my first time in a place like this. So I’m sure we can find our way out somehow.”

“God..” he smiled softly “thank you, Yashiro.”

Yashiro put her hand over her chest, her eyes tearing up dramatically as she gushed over him.

“What is it?” Mitsuba asked innocently.

“O-Oh..” Yashiro stuttered “it’s nothing!”

She turned her head away with a smile, and each time she wasn’t looking, Mitsuba made a face to mock her.

.

.

They continued to walk aimlessly around the boundary, looking at all the mirrors as they passed by.

“Mitsuba,” Yashiro spoke up after a while, uncomfortable with the silence “this is your first time in a boundary, right?” she then gave him a proud smile “Not to brag or anything, but this is my fourth time in one!”

“It is my first time..” Mitsuba admited “but—“

“Then as your upper-classman, or- err.. woman? I’ll teach you all about boundaries!” She exclaimed excitedly, grabbing his sleeve-covered hand with her own.

———

After a while of Yashiro explaining the basic understanding of a boundary as they further explored the place, Mitsuba nodded and ‘okay’ed’ everything she said.

“Woah.” He mumbled in astonishment at the new information he was given.

Before Yashiro could make a proud remark, he snickered “You seem to know an awful lot about this for a living person.”

“Scary..” he said, backing away in ‘fear’ playfully.

.

.

The three of you made your way to the library where Mr. Tsuchigomori usually would be. Not giving him a chance to ask why you all are there, you begin to all try to explain at once.

“Wait, back up a few steps. One at a time.” He sighs, almost like a father telling his children to wait their turn to talk.

Before either you or Hanako get the chance to speak first, Kou beats you both to it—and explains the whole situation.

“Why are you even bothering me with this..?” Mr. Tsuchigomori groaned, rubbing his forehead as if it will soothe the annoying headache the three of you were to him.

“Because!” Hanako wailed “It’s been two hours since they took Yashiro! And I can’t get into number 3’s boundary!”

“Yeah!” You sighed with a pout, very much worried for your friend.

“The kids and I even tried begging on our hands and knees for number 3 to let us in! But it didn’t work!” Hanako cried, dramatically flapping his arms all over the place.

You smacked the back of his head “Stop that, we didn’t even go that far.” you groaned.

“But still! We would’ve if it meant number 3 would let us in!” Hanako wailed yet again, clinging to your sleeve.

“Please spider-face!” Kou finally exclaimed after seeing a moment from where he could talk.

The sudden name made you snort, clasping a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from bursting into laughter. Kou smiled, seeing as this had been the first time you’d smiled since the incident with Mistuba.

“It’s Mr...” Hanako corrected.

“Whatever! Mr. Spider Face!” Kou yet again exclaimed, clasping his hands together as if to beg, making you finally let your strained laughter flow from your lips.

“Yes! Please help us Mr. Spider Face!” You snickered, doing the same gesture as Kou, you both were now laughing maniacally at this point.

“You little..” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed, you swore you saw his eyebrow twitching.

“I can’t let Yashiro get hurt..” Hanako spoke up, after having going silent for a while.

You and Kou both turned to him, confused by the sincerity in his voice. The Hanako you knew to be flirtatious and a pervert and sometimes even a jerk, being serious for once? It was a sight to see for sure.

“Tell me Mr. Tsuchigomori..” he uttered, finally looking up after staring at the seemingly more interesting floor for so long “won’t you help us?”

Even the disguised supernatural looked shocked to see the ghost so genuine, so with a sigh, he got up.

“Well, I do have an idea.” He hummed, walking over to a specific bookshelf.

He moved a couple of books to reveal Yako snoozing on the bookshelf. Effortlessly, he grabbed her, and tossed her over to Hanako—who luckily caught her. You, Kou, and Hanako looked down at the Nogitsune in Hanako’s arms.

“Number 2?” Hanako asked “Why?”

“Hear me out.” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed, sitting back down at his desk “The seven mysteries boundaries each serve to oversee a certain aspect of the school.”

“My ‘book stacks’ manage records, the clock keepers manage ‘time’, and number 2 manages ‘space.” He explained “If you go through her boundary you can get pretty much anywhere in the school.”

“That includes number 3’s boundary?” You asked, looking down at Yako.

“Pretty much.” Mr. Tsuchigomori sighed.

“But I thought Yashiro busted up her boundary?” Kou asked.

“Oh Kou.. poor, sweet, dumb little Kou.” You snickered, making said boy glare at you, more like aggressively side-eyeing you.

Mr. Tsuchigomori shook his head with a fond smile, before continuing “Oh that.. all she really did was take her right to manage it. The boundary itself is still existing. But with its overseer gone.. it’s probably a mess.”

“Isn’t that right echinococcus?” He snickered, making the latter snap up with a growl.

“Shut up emo spider!” Yako retorted, making you snicker.

“Emo spider..” you snorted in an almost whisper.

“And why should I even help you! I could care less what happens to your assistant!” Yako crossed her arms, turning her head with a ‘hmph!’.

“Beecause we’re your favorites?” You asked hopefully, but she didn’t seem to budge.

“Kitsune udon.” Hanako spoke, holding up his butcher knife as if to threaten her.

“Huh?” Yako gasped offendedly “I- It’s not even my problem!”

“Udon.”

“Fine..” Yako finally huffed, knowing Hanako wouldn’t go through with it—but still wanted to help him out.

.

.

.

“Let’s see…” Yako hummed, walking towards the bottom of the stairs.

“This is it right?” Kou asked.

“You’re kidding right?” You asked in disbelief, giving Kou a ‘are you stupid?’ look.

“Hey I was just making sure!” Kou whined, elbowing you in the side, which resulted in you two giggling and playfully shoving each other.

“Here we go!” Yako sung, breaking your guys’s laughter “One,” one at a time you were taking steps up the stairs “two,” and another “three..”

“Four.”

The Misaki Stairs were nothing new to you, you had come here with the trio before in search for Yashiro’s friend, Aoi. And hearing that it had been all out of whack since Yashiro destroyed it’s yoshiro, you weren’t surprised to look out into the distance and for the large empty void to be staring right back at you.

Though it was filled with pretty flowers to the brim, and sunny skies something still felt off. Like something was out of place.

“It’s..” Hanako marveled, staring out in disbelief.

“Woah!” Kou grinned, looking around like a child trying to pick which ride to go on first at an amusement park “It’s so pretty now!”

“Yeah..” you murmured, not being able to shake off the eerie feeling it gave you, but seeing as the other two seemed at ease—you tried your best to forget about it.

“I’ll show you to number 3’s boundary,” Yako hummed, now in human form “just keep up.”

The “click-clack” and “tut-tut” of your shoes against the stairs as you climbed was the only thing to fill the silence. You looked down from the stairs, only to be met with a void. It was empty. So empty it made you shiver, so you moved your focus elsewhere. Perhaps towards the flowers at the bottom of the stairs…

“Hey fox lady?” Kou finally spoke up, breaking the  deafening silence.

“What do you want stupid brat?” Yako spat, not turning back to even glance at him as he spoke.

“You know how before your rumor changed and you went totally crazy?” Kou asked, making you widen your eyes at the insensitive comment and elbow his side, making him glare at you as he winced “and you attacked me and the other students.”

“You like bringing up unpleasant memories, don’t you?” Yako scoffed, but you didn’t miss the way she winced at the mention of the things she had done before “What’s your point?”

“Oh it’s just.. I was wondering what that felt like.” Kou mumbled, now feeling unsure if it was okay to ask, though he felt the need to.

“What? Why would you wanna know that?! Talk about poor taste!” Yako yapped, turning to glare at Kou “I knew Misaki was the only human worth answering! The rest are lower than insects!”

Feeling a bit of pity, and knowing how curious he must have been cause you were too you placed a gentle hand on Kou’s shoulder and spoke. “Hey, give him a break. I understand what he said might have been a tad insensitive but..” you paused, looking down at the ground “recently, we had a friend of ours go a bit berserk after his rumor changed. And we- I mean Kou’s just curious if when your rumor changed, was it still you?”

“They’re kinda like you, huh number 2?” Hanako chuckled, but Yako kept her back to you three.

“Well..” Yako finally murmured as you all continued up the steps “it didn’t feel good, at least when I look back at it now. But..” she paused, and she looked unsure if she should continue, but when she looked at you two who were listening so intently, she couldn’t help but continue “It was definitely me. It was just a side of me that I kept bottled up, and it was forced out of me. That’s all.”

“Okay..” Kou mumbled, clearly unsure. You didn’t miss how his eyes shifted back down to the yearbook in his hands, and you patted his shoulder, as if to tell him I know how you feel.

“So if you tried to say something to your friend, even if he didn’t understand it, it still probably reached him.” That alone gave Kou hope, maybe. Just maybe, that last encounter with Mitsuba, he was able to talk to him.

“It doesn’t matter how warped he is.” Yako continued, seeing how he seemed a bit confused “or even if he changed form or shape.”

“That boy.. is still that boy.”

Just as you were about to ask a question of your own, Yako and Hanako—who were walking in front of you, stopped walking. “We’re here.” Yako announced.

“I assume our chat is over?” She hummed in more of a question, but then added “We’ve arrived, number 3’s boundary is straight through here.”

“Is that a mirror?” Kou asked, poking the frame.

“I don’t know.. looks kind of eerie to me. Hanako mumbled, floating above it as he exclaimed it closely.

“Yeah.. I mean..” you murmured, running your finger along the glass when you felt a force pulling you in.

You let out a surprised yelp as you were engulfed by the mirror’s glass, leaving the three in disbelief.

“Just so you know.. I’m not going further than here.”

You landed in some unknown place with a “oomph”, the place was filled with mirrors. You heard a loud yelp in what you could have only recognized as Yashiro’s voice.

“Oh right, your supposed to be nice to girls.”

You turned with teary eyes from the bright light that filled the room to find the voice, and you felt yourself freeze when you realized it was Tsukasa.

The ghost, no. The vicious supernatural who tore Mitsuba from you.

You watched as Yashiro fell to ground in deep slumber, she looked awfully peaceful given the circumstances and situation they were in. When Tsukasa got up, your eyes wandered to where Mitsuba was at.

“Now, time for you to eat up Mitsu!” Tsukasa chirped, his voice was sickeningly sweet but it made shivers run down your spine, as he held what looked like to be a heart in his hands.

“No, NO! PLEASE, NO!” Mitsuba cried, trying to back away from the entity.

Mitsuba’s eyes widened in shock when he noticed you were there, and you didn’t miss that hopeful glint in his eyes when you made eye contact, hopeful that you would save him.

“(Y/N)!” He cried, trying to get Tsukasa’s bloodied hands off of him, tears streaming down his soft skin “PLEASE, HELP ME!”

You don’t know what came over you, but you found yourself rushing over in attempt to strangle Tsukasa, but he threw you off of him effortlessly.

“Get—“ you coughed “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Tsukasa looked unfazed, his expression void of any emotion but it still made you shake with fear, not of what he would do to you, but of what he would do to Mitsuba.

“Now, eat up.” Tsukasa mumbled, his voice was low, and sounded inhumane. Distorted and horrifying. You wanted to get up, fight Tsukasa, and save Mitsuba. But this was no fairytale, so with a pounding headache—you watched as Tsukasa forcefully fed Mitsuba what you thought to be number 3’s heart, due to the entity that laid lifeless beside them with teary eyes.

You began to cry, feeling helpless. Tsukasa got up, walking towards you. You saw as Mitsuba looked distorted too, but he was still Mitsuba nonetheless.

“No-NO! PLEASE DON’T HURT HER! I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST PLEASE—“

A loud “WHAM” shook the room and two boys you could only recognize as Hanako and Kou came crashing down screaming like little girls. Kou was the first to get up, his eyes wandered to your shaking form, but you weren’t crying out of fear of Tsukasa—who he saw standing in-front of you—but when he followed your eyes to where they wandered, he realized why.

“..Mitsuba..?”

(A/N) : Oml, Act I is finished!! My hands are cramping from all the typing and I lost lots of sleep but that’s fine! But busy with French lessons but I still had time for this. This will be proofread and (hopefully) posted as well as the other chapters in Act I, tomorrow evening. Have a good day/evening/afternoon/night, and stay hydrated!! Eat smth too if you haven’t!

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

this one's really short whoops characters featured: scaramouche cws: mentions of death, scara is a little mean but what's new wc: 569

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Chapter Six

Only a few days remain before your scheduled departure. You’ve tried not to think too hard about it, but as the date gets closer, you’re forced to pack and make preparations for the time you’ll be gone. Curiously, among these preparations is helping Scaramouche pack his things. It’s hardly fair, but you can’t complain. He is your boss, after all.

It’s been hours since you made it to his estate and you’re only halfway finished with the inventory he told you to make of his belongings. You would have certainly met your demise by now, were it not for Yvette’s baking. Her scones are a godsend.

You’re combing through one of his many chests when your fingers brush against a loose cord. Without thinking, you pull it out, ready to put the necklace in the chest with his other accessories. As you tug on it, you’re met with resistance and you dig through until you find a feather-shaped pendant made of gold on the end.

It’s mesmerizing, but you call out to Scaramouche anyway. “My Lord? What's this?”

He looks up from his newspaper. “What's what? Oh, that,” he says, his lips curling in distaste. “My creator gave it to me as a ‘proof of identity’ before casting me aside.”

You don’t say anything, but from the way you’re eyeing the gold ornament, he can tell you’re curious. With an exasperated sigh, he starts telling you about all the people who betrayed him. His creator, who decided he was too emotional to be of use. His mentor, who sacrificed himself but still doomed their entire village. His best friend, who was poisoned by the Tatarigami.

“Was that last one really a betrayal, though? The kid died of sickness.”

“That is beside the point.”

“Regardless, I won’t abandon you like everyone else did.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

“No, I mean it,” you emphasized. “I won’t make you a promise because I’ll jinx myself, but if in a year you realize that I’ve stuck by you, you’ll have to take me seriously. And give me a raise!”

Per usual, he rolls his eyes. “Finish packing my stuff.”

*****

It’s time to bid Apollo farewell. You can’t take him with you, however badly you want to. He had brought you far, but this was one journey he wouldn't be making.

Not wanting to burden him, you packed relatively lightly. Your small luggage couldn't fit all of the creature comforts you normally indulge in, but you did bring some tea, your crafts, and a couple books for the trip overseas.

It takes you a good while to say your goodbyes. You stare into the eyes of the gentle beast, finding it hard to keep your mouth from turning downwards. You scratch between his ears and under his chin. Tears prick your eyes as he eats sugar cubes out of your palm.

“Are you done crying?” Scaramouche mocks.

His callousness is convincing but Pierre and his coworkers all share a look. The harbinger had just paid them extra to keep Apollo happy and healthy while you’re in Sumeru.

“You’re not actually crying are you?” he asks, incredulously “Pathetic.”

“Sorry for the display of emotion, sir,” you apologize as you hurriedly wipe your tears.

Finally, you turn around and face a whole other kind of monster. A beast made to weather tsunamis and thunderstorms. From the ship comes a shout:

“All aboard who’s coming aboard!”

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tag(s): @lacunaanonymoused

[anglswon]

FIEN. lee haechan

IN WHICH you finally find a new plug to feed your addiction but he’s annoyingly attractive… and your ex.

seven. friendly reminders

You finally arrived to the place you used to call home. Memories filled your head of your reckless childhood and you chuckled as you knocked on the door.

The door swung open and revealed a disheveled man.

You sighed, “Hi Dad.”

Your lips pursed into a thin line as he rolled his eyes and motioned for you to come inside.

“Oh Sweetie! You didn’t tell me you were visiting!” Your mother exclaimed, her hands immediately wrapping around your body.

“You’ve gotten skinnier since the last time I saw you” She huffed, “you need to eat better.”

She motioned for you to follow her to the dining table and sit down as she went and grabbed an extra plate for you.

“Hyunwoo! Come down here!” She could hear her father shout and she flinched slightly, his raised voice bringing her way back.

And there they sat. The four members of their tight family sitting around the table eating dinner together, just like the old times.

But it wasn’t the same.

“Oh, Y/n I didn’t know you were back. How’s school?” Hyunwoo asked, a slight irritated tone in his voice.

You sighed, you knew you weren’t wanted here by anyone in this room. Why did you even bother to come?

“It’s going fine.”

Your dad scoffed, “you’re failing half your classes. It’s not going fine! We pay for those classes and you’re wasting our money.”

Your expression faltered. “I’m only failing one and that’s because—“

Your dad slammed his hand against the dining table and stood up. He pointed a finger towards you threateningly. “No excuses. You either pick your grade back up or you’re leaving college.”

You nodded as you bit down on your bottom lip. You could feel that sore feeling in the back of your throat that tightened.

“Excuse me,” you breathlessly mumble as you left the dining table to leave to then bathroom.

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you closed the door, hoping to muffle out any of the yelling that happened outside the door but it didn’t work.

“All she does is drugs and drink alcohol she’s ruining our reputation! Do you not hear what the community says about her behind our backs? How is she supposed to take over the company like this.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, the tears effortlessly rolling down your cheeks as you slid down against the door of the bathroom.

Your phone vibrated against you but you didn’t even check and instead immediately turning it off.

You wiped your tears as you took one last glance at your face, your makeup was ruined and the black mascara you had coated your lashes with built up underneath your eyes.

You took a cotton swab and wiped it away, sniffling quietly.

You made it back to the dining room and swiped your keys off the table, scowling at your father, “I’m leaving”.

He glared right back and scoffed.

They all stared as you left the house and got in your car, starting the engine, and rushing towards the nearest bar.

Hours passed and without realization, you were drunk out of your mind. Your head was spinning and you could barely mumble out sentences. It wasn’t until the bartender had noticed your state and she had called your most recent contact to pick you up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m a bartender at — and your friend here is very very drunk. She needs a ride home, think you could pick her up?”

“Oh yeah for sure, I’ll be there.”

taglist ▸ @beomgyusonlywife @w3bqrl @haechansbbg @hyuckies18 @p-d1ddy @onlyhyunjin @nctrawberries @222brainrot @amrqxz @sundamariis @143won @jaeminpookie @starwonb1n @vantxx95 @minkyuncutie @injunnie-lemon @sthwaaberry @dudekiss3r @byeonwooseokabs @starfilledgaze @aek1ra @hisunflower @yourkeikei @nwkyuo @foreveryoung-jae (bold could not be tagged)

A/N ▸ sorry i didn’t post for a couple days stuff came up 😭😭 and seriously i didn’t wanna write this out but i didnt really know how to explain it over texts ?? so! here it is

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[late-stage-lesbian]

Sorry if this is overstepping or anything but I saw your question in the tags of a post(the one about white people and reblogging poc posts) and I wanted to give my 2 cents ok it if that's ok(sorry again if it's rude)

So while it is appreciated that you do agree with OP and are adding something to the conversation, most times serious posts about racism are meant to serve as a beacon for poc, to bring attention to issues that were facing or that white people may be causing. By adding a white voice in there, even if it's agreeing it does take away some focus from the poc perspective on the issue in favor of a white person's perspective. It's unfortunate, and sometimes you can bring up a good point or raise awareness, but usually it's a good idea to do so on a separate post, or a post designated for both poc and white perspectives rather than a post made for poc experiences.

Sorry a final time, I hope this made sense? Either way ur question is valid and I hope this was at least kinda helpful!

This makes sense, and I really appreciate your taking the time to explain your perspective. Please don’t apologize for engaging in a productive discussion with me, I’m really just surprised that anyone read the tags at all 😂

I guess my question really should have been more focused on whether or not this still holds true if the commentary is in the tags of the post, because I always perceive the tags of a post as separate to the post itself. Like I treat tags like I might treat annotating a text - I’m drawing connections or notating where my personal experiences line up with what’s in the post. It’s almost like I’m talking to myself, and people can read them if they want but they also aren’t meant to be for anyone as much as they are meant for me to kind of process what I was reading and sometimes to signal to the OP that I was listening. And I put that in the tags specifically so that it doesn’t have to travel with the post if it ever gets reblogged from me.

But it occurred to me while reading the original post that I might be treating tags very differently than other people, and I wasn’t sure how that matched up with the post. And I don’t know how much of that is just my Autism manifesting in a way where I have misinterpreted the way this tool is meant to be used, or how much of this is my AuDHD having to process all of my thoughts to other people in order for me to understand them, or how much of this is just internalized white supremacy culture making me think I’m entitled to a part of the discussion.

TLDR; Do other people consider tags to be a part of the conversation? Or do other people consider tags to be independent of the conversation unless otherwise stated (like with ‘prev tags’ descriptors)? Or is there some other third thing?

[angstandhappiness]

INTERESTING

OP's tags @imminent-danger-came #THINK OF THE TRADGEDY#Wukong seeing MK act a little bit evil in 1x09: uh hold up no stop that#When he realizes it was just MK trying to be good enough: :0

@mythicalmagical-monkeyman #THINK OF THE TRADGEDY#< prev tags#to good to leave out#Yes!#exactly#thank you for putting my tiny strains of thoughts into actual word

@imminent-danger-came #wish I could be normal about anything ever#instead I write an in-depth theory post on why I think MK was fucked up in his past life#COME ON s4 SPECIAL. PROVE ME RIGHT#GIVE ME CRUMBS#THIS WOULD SLAP SO HARD#DO IT FOR ME#this ain't even mentioning the god damn curse#Cause like bro. The curse reacting to MK (being a part of MK?) the way it does is so fucking weird#Why did MK get a flash of it in 4x03. Why#''harbinger of chaos'' WELL MAYBE HE WAS ONE. MAYBE HE WAS.#eamk theory

@imminent-danger-came #YEAH ELDRITCH HORROR MK IS SYNONYMOUS WITH MONKEY DEMON MK#Tis the same thing. MK is a Monkey Demon and nothing can change that#Some good points here teehee#I think I'm on team ''pre-stone MK was a complete force of utter chaos'' but like.#A pre-stone MK being controlled and curated as a weapon is a really fun idea#Would have great Samadhi fire Mei parallels too#''Don't use the flame Mei...be the flame!'' ''You don't use a weapon! You are a weapon!''#''What if I fail everyone? What if I...lose control?'' ''Actually no no—the chaos and destruction that we'll bring upon the world will make#Wukong's past look like nothing''#Like at the VERY least MK was someone in a past life right. Like#It would be weird if he didn't. Literally every other member of the gang does#And everyone in this show is living past the end of their myth one way or another#anyways I'm so sorry tumblr ate your post#I've lost good men in tumblr drafts

@its-leethee #ok so i had this rb window open since yesterday cause i needed to sleep on it but nope time did not calm me down#my brain soundtrack stuck on eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEE#always wondering where did mk's power come from & what they put in the baby monkey stone and like y'all are so smart eight steps ahead of m#sealed monkey demon/eldritch horror mk alright alright i'm in 100%

@mythicalmagical-monkeyman #...#what if he's the thing that killed the pilgrims#he would have been powerful enough to#and it would help explain why Wukong was involved#and why mk would be friends with their “reincarnations”#/descendant#because parallels

@ghostenluvs #prev#OH MY GOD#ur brain#but omg that would be so angsty #THIS WHOLE THEORY IS CRAZY BUT IN LIKE AN OMG WAY#LIKE MAN I'M HAVING THOUGHTS NOW#i love these long theory posts they get hte brain thoughts going#IT KEEPS GETTING BETTER

@i-am-a-fan #Do you think that’s why Mk is only part monkey demon? Because i can two schools of thought on that#one. he’s part SWK and part something else (probably celestial if i’m honest) but that would explain why he’s able to wield the staff#it also makes sense since the staff is has been said to only be wielded by swk himself#there’s no trials or anything of being worthy like thors hammer. you either are swk or you aren’t#Or TWO. MK WAS another celestial monkey#i say WAS because he might have been defeated and the put back together as seen in the frames shown above#Mostly because i really do think MK when broken down is actually really evil#I WILL ONCE AGAIN USE THE CLONE EPISODE AS EVIDENCE#you’re telling me that every clone made of the guy#that are supposed to be perfect imitations of the creator (mind you)#all of them. turned evil?#yeah that kid is fucked up#wow i had wayyyy more to say than i thought i did#welcome to my ted talk

@void-multimuse #stuff like this makes my brain go brrr so I wanna add it to my MK portrayal

@mythicalmagical-monkeyman #saw this on twitter#but this goes with inky going#"your friends will turn on you. seeing you for the monster you will become. they will DESTROY you#harbinger of chaos.”#because if MK killed them in their past lives#why would they keep him around if he could do it again#(I know they wouldn't though)

@wilyzombie #yall i just wanted to watch a cartoon with fun animation#it’s been only 2 weeks since i first started watching monkie kid#and now im obsessed

@newcyber-demonslayer#YO#WAIT#THIS IS ACTUALLY SUCH A GREAT THEORY#probably cause I’m a sucker for eldritch beings cause it fascinates me#especially the possible design options out there

@demigod-of-the-agni #op this was a DELICIOUS READ#i will now retreat to my cave and wallow#monkerkidd#SO MANY THOUGHTS.... SO MANY.......

@shiwinu #SOMEONE SAID#“CRAZY THEORY”#???#I'M IN#AHHAHAHAJAJA

Eldritch Abomination MK Theory

OKAY. @the-punning-ubus

I just want to say reading these tags are SO validating, because I have my little "MK was an eldritch abomination thing pre-hatching from stone" theory and seeing someone else come to pretty much the same conclusion feels good.

I've been meaning to write a proper theory post on this for a while, so now is as good of a time as any!

Obviously we have Wukong's "Not just anyone can wield my staff, but you did" from A Hero is Born and "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to wield it" from 3x03, but there's also something in 1x09 Macaque:

Macaque: "Your staff kinda gives you away dude, not just anyone can wield that thing."

-

Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."

-

-

The sweet irony of "There really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick!" followed immediately by MK lifting the staff again is not lost on me.

So, from s1 it was pretty obvious that Wukong didn't "give" MK any form of power, but we knew that already with MK being a monkey demon and all. I just think it's particularly intriguing that all of this was laid out in the same episode where MK proclaims "I am the weapon!". In all honestly, he probably was/is.

One of the main questions coming out of s4 is "why was MK created?"—Monkey King's stone was used to form another, but for what purpose? To what end? What reason was MK at the center of all these stories?

Well, here's my current theory:

MK was something in a past life, and that something needed to be contained—and so, to put a stop to past life eldritch abomination MK, he was then sealed away in the stone.

I think this scene in particular raises some alarm bells:

The stone cracks open, bursts with light, and then it closes—like something was put inside it. The scene could of course just be an aesthetic choice, or chosen to be this way for another reason we don't know yet, but it just feels so deliberate. A ball of light appearing from the stone, then another ball of light in the mystery woman's hands being revealed to hold a monkey, and then the stone reforming around the ball of light. I just can't help but feel there's something there.

Next I want to discuss the two key things that make me feel this theory has merit:

1.) MK has made a habit of breaking out of things he shouldn't be able to (the calabash in 1x05, the trigram furnace in 2x00, the scroll in 4x07, Destiny itself in 3x14) and the stone would be no exception.

2.) Every antagonist in this show has been sealed away in some form, then being released to resume their plans from before being sealed. Here's a list:

DBK was sealed under the mountain, and after being released continued his plan of world domination.

Spider Queen was metaphorically trapped in her fallen empire, and after being given the chance to rule the above world once again, immediately takes it.

The Lady Bone Demon was imprisoned in her tomb, and after being released prematurely (before learning the error of her ways), she continued her plan to destroy the world and create a new one.

Azure Lion was imprisoned in the scroll, and upon being released (by an unknown 3rd party), immediately worked to free his friends and then end the Jade Emperor's reign.

Now, I love foils, so MK breaking out of the stone he was sealed in, yet coming out an actually changed being unlike everyone else in this show, would be DELICIOUS:

Lady Bone Demon: ”No backup and no weapon? So, you’re plan is to fist fight a child?” Sun Wukong: “We both know that’s not what you are.”

(3x11 This Imperfect World)

-

Lady Bone Demon: "STOP! Have you forgotten? Destroy me and you destroy the host! Have you become so desperate to end me that you would sacrifice this blameless innocent child?" Sun Wukong: "You're giving me no choice! All the time you spent locked away, and you haven't changed a bit! I'm going to finish you, like I should have done a long time ago! I told you—you should have stayed buried."

(3x11 This Imperfect World)

-

Subodhi: "I have not brought you to your master. Although this is the stone from which Sun Wukong once sprung, it appears overtime, it was used to form another. A simple creature, with no past, no family, and no name. There is a reason you were at the center of these stories—a reason you can harness the power of the Monkey King himself!"

(4x06 Show Me the Monster)

-

(If you want extra fodder for this, please see this parallels post :3)

So, if MK were to hatch out of the stone—where *he* was sealed away—and he actually came out of it a "blameless innocent child" with "no past, no family, and no name", it would work exceedingly well. Wukong's not above giving people second chances, but if you use that second chance to try and destroy the world, you force his hand.

(Side note: it could also be the case that the stone was used to "reset" whatever MK was in his past life, and Wukong was originally meant to destroy whatever came out of the stone—which could be the reason he stayed at Flower Fruit Mountain for hundreds of years. However, when an child came out, a new being without a past or the memories of what it was before—Wukong choose to let it go. He choose to let it live a normal life—or even ensuring it could live a normal life—and it then found it's way to Pigsy. This definitely gets into real crack theory territory, but I did want to bring it up.)

Now, none of this is even mentioning the suspiciously MK shaped figure in the mural from 3x13:

Now, the figure in this mural is only shown when MK is also on screen, which is framing that drives me insane. Perhaps this is when they first caught MK's past life, then finally able to subdue him and seal him in the stone.

And so, if MK really was this terrible chaos driven abomination in his past life, what does that mean ✨thematically✨?

Well,

Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”

(4x01 Familiar Tales)

-

SWK: “ENOUGH! I’ve never let anyone dictate my destiny in the past, and I’m not about to start now. None of us are! We can’t change who we were yesterday or in a past life, or a hundred life times ago! We live with the choices we’ve made, for what matter is the choices we make RIGHT NOW! Only we decide who we are and what we do with the power we have.”

(4x07 Pitiful Creatures)

-

MK can't change who he was in a past life. He can't change that the roads all lead to pain. But you know what he can do? He can try. He can try and get a little bit better every day. He can try and help people. He can try and make the world better than he found it.

Maybe in a past life, MK caused just as must chaos and destruction as Wukong did in his past. Maybe he caused even more problems than he has as the Monkie Kid. But that also doesn't undo the good he's doing now.

Anyways, that's my "MK was an eldritch abomination thing pre-hatching from stone" theory. Hope you enjoyed

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Prev

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen. 

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are. 

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.” 

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man. 

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat. 

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder. 

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients. 

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more. 

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction. 

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her. 

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right. 

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room. 

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island. 

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him. 

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly. 

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly. 

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian. 

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her. 

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks. 

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking. 

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery. 

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush. 

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her. 

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers. 

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

Next

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[nobodysdaydreams]

#OH goodness#I was just thinking about the Implications#Because you are so right#And he'd use it to save Curtain time and time again in the books#And probably use it on the kids when Curtain hurt them#Whereas in the show Curtain would make him afraid of showing/telling other people#But he couldn't help it anyways#And I bet he'd wear long sleeved jackets and stuff to hide it#And he'd use it on the kids and stuff but wouldn't tell them how it worked#And then imagine some day he does something really big and passes out when he's with the Benedicts and they all freak out#Only for him to wake up and get a huge lesson on boundaries#And there's of course the Martina stuff too#He'd heal her and she'd begrudge him his powers but she'd also end up being friends with him#I'm sorry the idea ran away with me

prev tags @sophieswundergarten

Do not apologize I enjoy your rants although this one made me very sad (and not to bring my personal head canons into this, but since SQ’s birth dad dying because he tried to heal someone is literally what happens in my fic, I imagine this would add to Curtain’s paranoia because he’s like: “I’m not losing someone that way again, and certainly not my son.” To the point where I feel like he would even be willing to wipe SQ’s memories of his powers and how they worked as well as any memories of anyone he cared about other than his dad. Just to make sure he never put himself in danger trying to heal someone).

If all the MBS characters had superpowers

(I think somebody already did this, but this is my own version)

Reynie: Basic bitch gets a basic power. Telekinesis.

Sticky: Creation (Okay, I wanted to give him something like invisibility, but he would be an absolute badass with Momo’s quirk. For all the non-MHA fans, Creation allows someone to create anything, as long as they know the chemical composition of it- ie have it memorized)

Kate: Super speed. (And she sometimes accidentally uses it while talking.)

Constance: She already has one. Telepathy.

Adults!

Benedict: Pyromancy (Okay, I know this one seems a bit random, but trust me. Just imagine it.)

Milligan: Power-cancellation. (Dad man gets a dad power. Imagine the kids getting all rowdy with their powers and he just looks at them and they all stop.)

Rhonda: Mermaid (I had a really hard time with this one, but I think this fits. H2O just add water style where she turns into one when she touches water or something. Also I rlly love Mermaid!Rhonda)

Number 2: Technokinesis. (And she sometimes accidentally zaps people when her blood sugar’s low.)

Bad dudes (except for SQ)

Curtain: Hydrokinesis. (See! It all comes together. They’re inverses of each other- Benedict is warm and kind, Curtain is cold and cruel. Also, that’s why his dam technology is so advanced- he literally knows water inside out.)

Martina: Doesn’t have one. That’s why she’s so bitter, and so desperate for approval.

SQ: Healing. However, he gains any injuries he heals on others. (I’m sorry!)

McCracken: Super strength. P self explanatory.

[chaeiimimi]

01 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞

Summary: you weren’t really sure how it happened, but an average student who wore glasses and spent all her extra time on bookstores and library managed to date your school’s volleyball club setter. On your 3rd year of law school, your ten years anniversary to be exact, he went home from Argentina and it was a week before he was going back, he broke up with you with the reason of he can't handle long-distance relationship anymore despite being at it for two years. You didn’t cry, you stood there as he was sobbing in front of you, you held his face in your palms and offered him a gentle smile, gentle enough to let him know you’ll support him and will always be watching him, together with the child in your stomach right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Chapters: prev// next

“is model Sato Himari dating Argentina national male volleyball team player Oikawa Tooru?” you read yet another dating rumor from your past lover

you shook your head and mumbled “he never changed” you said clucking your toungue

it’s been almost two years now since your break-up, your son and his twin brother were already ten months old, they grew up to be healthy and happy babies

Your parents helped you take care of your babies whenever you were attending school and doing your part-time jobs

You also tried to avoid some high school friends since almost all of them knew Oikawa and you didn’t think it was time for him to find out about his sons yet

His career is at its peek, he was getting a lot of endorsements inside and outside of Japan, he was always getting linked to a lot of famous people and influencers

You felt so small compared to him and quite frankly, you didn't know if you wanted that life for your sons, i mean Oikawa had paparazzi following him everywhere he's almost like a celebrity

Well with that looks of him, it wasn't a surprise

Besides, you didn't know if he still loved you, he was surrounded by a lot of rumors from celebrities to actresses to models

And you were just a fresh graduate looking for a job to sustain your kids

With all of that out of the way, you decided that you didn't want Oikawa to meet your kids

"hiii babies" you cooed at your sons when you arrived at your parent's house

They all giggled in unison reaching out their tiny hands to you, they were already in their strollers when you arrived ready to go

"hey ma, pa thank you again for today" you hugged your parents, without them, you probably wouldn't manage to pay for yours and your sons' expenses

"y/n please rest for a little bit, we already told you, me and your dad can afford to take care of yours and your sons' needs" your mother pleaded with you one more time

You looked at her with tired eyes but you were hosting a gentle smile on your lips

"mom, its really fine, you guys are already taking care of my kids I cant let you carry all the burden, besides, I already got the job from the law firm" you smiled at them lifting the takeout food they failed to notice when you entered

"I can begin work after a week"

Thus you and your sons left your parent's house a little later than usual as you ate dinner

"good morning my baby" you greeted Haruto who was always the first one to wake up, you lift him up from his crib as you sat down the rocking chair just in front of their crib feeding him with your breastmilk

"eat up before your brother wakes up" you smiled at him, his small eyes looking at you as he sips milk from your nipples, smiling while doing so

It was moments like this when you felt bad for them, how you wanted them to have a father, but you know it was far for that to happen, their father was at the other side of the world and the chances of you getting back together was next to impossible

You relish the silent peaceful morning

Until it was ruined by the loud ringing of your phone, you reached for it since it was just on top of the table beside your chair

You didn't check the caller

"hello?"

"bessssstiiieee" you moved your phone away from your ear

"Akira, its 7 in the morning here for goodness sake" you scold your bestfriend who is also in Argentina

"ohhh sorry are my godchildren still sleeping?" she asked

"I'm feeding Haruto at the moment, Hayato is still asleep" you said looking down at your son and made a funny face which made him giggle

"anyways bestfriend, i'm going home to attend the high school reunion, are you coming?" she asks

"no-"

"oh no you don't bitch, i'm coming home and WE will attend that party, last year i was alone, Himari was annoying the shit out of me with her stupidly pretty face"

"why did you even ask me in the first place?" you deadpanned

She knew you couldn't say no to her, how could you? When she was there when you were crying your eyes out after the break up, putting up with your intense cravings and rubbing your back during morning sickness heck she even hesitated on going to Argentina to get trained by the photographer she idolizes the most because you were two months away from giving birth

Even in Argentina she was constantly calling her friends if they had jobs available for you, and for that you are forever thankful for her

"But, what if he's there?" you asked, there was a reason why you didn't attend high school reunion last year, you were afraid Oikawa was there

"its not like we're going to bring the boys with us- oh wait I'm about to board my flight I'll call you when I arrive bye love you" and with that she ended the phone abruptly

You sighed and looked at Hayato shuffle awake in his bed

okay so this is my first time writing a fanfic by chapter DADYIGFBWEYB I hope y’all liked it, just tell me through dms or ask box if you want a tag on the next chapter

[satorinnie]

07. rough time

tw; mentions of suicide & drugs

you didn’t feel so good. it all happened too quick. the trip to the rehab center, the visit to her grave, her mother finding you—

it wasn’t the most comfortable situation; to be in the same car as your dead best friend’s mother, whom you didn’t have the guts to face. even though she had told you she understood your reason for not being able to attend the funeral, you yourself couldn’t accept it. it felt like you betrayed her, your second family; and didn’t want to face them.

however you couldn’t keep it in. “im sorry.” you blurted out, breaking the silence between you two.

she gave you a glance, confusion clouding the motherly eyes, “what are you sorry for my dear?”

you opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. you couldn’t swallow the lump forming in your throat and next thing you knew gentle tears were streaming down your face. “im sorry i couldn’t come to her funeral. i-i regret to this day and i just—i can’t forgive myself for it. a-and you shouldn’t as well.”

her features softened at your confession, her lips forming a sad smile, “y/n, darling how can i be mad you? asking you to come to her funeral while you were facing so many things was wrong of me, and there’s nothing to forgive because what you did was not wrong but a reasonable action. and i know for a fact homura would understand you too.”

you really wanted to believe her but the sick twisting though in you made you believe otherwise. akito was right, what kind of a friend were you? you could’ve came back to hyogo from time to time to check up on her, make sure she was okay. how didn’t you pick up any clues from her lack of energy whenever you two face-timed? “that’s what you might think but still-”

“no y/n, i am not having this debate with you. it’s not your fault and i hope you learn to accept that. don’t listen to what akito says, he’s taking it harder than any of us did. he still can’t accept the fact that she took her own-” she couldn’t finish the sentence, a broken sob leaving her. she pulled the car over to catch her breath, it was dark outside and driving with a blurry vision could result in an accident. something you didn’t want to experience again.

“im sorry dear, i’ll continue driving in a minute.” she gave you weak smile. “it’s okay auntie suzuki, i would prefer that you continue driving when you feel better anyways.” you reached out to squeeze her hand and she responded back the same way.

“...how’s your mother y/n?” she asked you carefully. it was still a sore subject for you. even after a year your mother hadn’t made much progress in recovery although she was at the best rehab center. “she isn’t exactly doing well...she had a seizure today.” you looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

“oh—y/n that’s horrible! how did it—how is she doing?”

“i honestly don’t know. it’s like she doesn’t want to get better and i don’t understand why! and i have mo idea how this happened when she’s in a rehab center, maybe she still has connections with her dealers? but isn’t the rehab center supposed to be safe and guarded?” your hands were starting to shake, it was too much to take in. you couldn’t believe your ears when you got the call, you were paralyzed in your spot and for a second you had thought that maybe this was it; this was how you lost your last family member.

hands reached out to keep you steady, bringing your body closer to lay on her chest. she hugged you tightly, “shh it’s going to be okay dear, i know it will be. have you talked to her about it?” you shook your head, leaning further on her chest, “no—she still blames me for his death...” you could hear her sigh as she smoothed out your hair, “don’t believe her y/n, it wasn’t your fault and any person with the right mind can see that. now let’s get you home shall we?”

you nodded, getting back to your original position; leaning agains the window watching the scenery pass by as you guys started to drive back home.

NIGHT CHANGES

seven; rough time

masterlist | prev | next

zey’s notes

took me a while to get the written portion done but here it is :)) this has a big explanation about y/n’s past and and questions will be answered in the upcoming chapters

would love your opinions on it so far and feel free to ask any question you guys have!!

taglist; open (send an ask to be added)

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[skrunksthatwunk]

prev your tags are mighty and true also YEAH i love team urameshi i love them also the thought that yusuke is to kuwa as toguro is to genkai (as well as itsuki is to sensui what kuwa is to yusuke) IS SO FUKING. GRRRGRRGAGOUH the way they couldve been tragic lovers separated by their differences and one's inability to face their fears OR codependent to the point of enabling the darkest and unhealthiest parts of them in this entropic sorta way is just. GUH. HOUGHGHNGH!!!!! also yeah when i rewatched a lotta the yusuke leaving stuff i was like man he really DOES feel like he's breaking up with the both of them. and their different reactions are so interesting to me like keiko being like :/ i don't think my new bf would like it if we got married and stuff and yusuke's yk ily :) and her yeah me too :/ bc she's trying not to get her hopes up bc yusuke really does let her down a lot and she has every reason to not believe his promises when he's made them a million times before and broken them almost every time. vs kuwabara losing his absolute goose off his gourd desperate and yusuke not chewing him out for it at all but explaining his reasons and insisting he's going and when kuwa starts lashing out at the others pulling him aside and promising he'll be back. there's a lotta overlap with his treatment of keiko and kuwa here but kuwa's reaction is so different to keiko's and the way yusuke acted when kuwa was trying to say what he means to him just.. gaougugohhohghh basically

AND YEAH the kuwa can speak violence but it's yusuke and hiei's native language is literally shit i've been saying for years omg we are big brained. yusuke and hiei were both born outcasts assumed to be dangerous, corruptive, impure, etc, and they both leaned into it to some extent, for their physical and emotional survival. i imagine kuwabara grew up with similar prejudices, but he took a different approach in rising above them via honor code stuff. he looked to how a man should be (often taking influence from pop culture, it seems) and tried to be that to prove them wrong, to be good in spite of what others said, rather than being bad to spite them (hiei + yusuke). and sorry to kurama for leaving him out but we dunno enough about his upbringing sorry man <3 anyway yeah it's such a key point of communication for yusuke and hiei and while it also is for kuwa it's not like,, NEARLY as hard for kuwa to talk about his feelings. anyway they make me insasne. that point about hiei and yusuke bringing out the worst and best in each other AGAIN ginormous brain moment but like the way yusuke talks to hiei when they have the post-sniper fight encounter and yusuke's like ouhhh you're a softyyy like. i think yusuke is almost the gentlest with hiei in some ways. when he asks him in this kinda tentative quiet way if he'll help after coming all this way (so he KNOWS hiei cares and hiei can't deny it) it's like he's trying to teach him some of that language of. not hitting each other. it doesn't go great but it doesn't go horribly either. (maybe it doesn't go great bc he brings up kuwabara, and hiei's like >:/ oh right ugh this is such a kuwabara thing to do being all. open about feelings and shit. gross. and it reminds him of vulnerability being a bad idea and he's like nope shutting that down now moment's over. but yusuke makes it easier to forget that.) ugh the yusuke hiei dynamic makes me absolutely stupid and contrasting it with the kuwa yusuke dynamic is just. scrumptious. bc they really are the shoulder human shoulder demon to him a lotta the time. anyway YEAH but also at the same time hiei and yusuke fall into the pessimistic let's watch the world burn shit a lot easier together than with any of the others because they share a bitterness and a hurt and a mistrust that the other two don't. kurama's too practical and schemey to be a pessimist (too focused on how to make good outcomes happen to worry about how unlikely they are, which is the only way to survive for that long) and kuwabara's so focused on narrative/the ways things "should" be/unable to let himself think of bad outcomes because it'd crush him bc he's sensitive yk to be a pessimist. b'yeah

also yeah i WISH yusuke and genkai were a little sweeter than they were in canon but i also think that distance is like. captivating in its painfulness, much like a lotta the show's relationships. just tender enough to drive you nuts but not quite enough to satisfy anything. it leaves you hungry and aching like the characters themselves who are all starved for affection and GOD DAMN. ANYWAY

this could be kuwameshi if you guys would like. take my hand and trust me

[lisxdumbr]

GOOD DAY LIS !! I am sorry this has been around a week late, please tell me how could I make it up to you </3 Stuff became busy in school sooo :'> I did typed my responses for a total of an hour too... I apologize for you to type such a lengthy response <//3 but if you did enjoyed doing so, then that is fine ♪ I'd def love to see your previous themes!! but it would be quite troublesome to ask of you that now, so maybe in the future when it crosses your mind once more! I love love LEMON SQUASH CHEERS too, to think that you've made a theme based on that... <3 !! OHH so it's THEM.... it's nnatsume :0 hehe, it makes me quite the curious being after hearing your praises about their prev themes... For now, I'll imagine it as the safest option :> About the gallery thing too, yeaahhh... i would find myself saving pictures for "future use" and then it gets buried </3 Why I think Yuuta is the moon is that he is the quiet one in 2wink (the vibes), but if we think about it... Him and Hinata can interchange between the sun and moon because they function as 2wink, as the sun and moon compliments each other. The following words mightt not be accurate as I do not hold much of a great understanding about them, however I'd still let you know! Hinata is supposedly the one who works in the dark (as the moon) to give shine to Yuuta (as the sun), for Yuu is Hina's sun, the one whom he cares much that even if he becomes insignificant, at least Yuuta can continue to shine. On the other hand, Hina's bright nature makes Yuu thinks he must be the sun, always working hard and excitable about things, when he, Yuuta, seems to feel that he must do something to shine together with Hina and not stay at his zone, selfishly basking in the light of the sun that makes him glow. The 2winkversary is a pleasant read, go insane however you like, you know we would honestly enjoy it either way~

I tend to stray away from unpleasant things in the internet as much as possible, so hearing these stuff that new enstarries have done…. there's much more to uncover, huh? There's so much too in Tiktok, which is common knowledge already. I understand the gatekeeping stuff, it kinda becomes meh when many people like it… like it spreads and gets liked by people who should be out the fandom… This is the reality of things, unfortunately.. The ratio of the unsafe fics to the fluff ones is like,, 8:2. I thought the tag would contain more sfw but OKayy… my expectations crashed so hard after seeing the consecutive unsafe ones. "Help me jesus 0(-(" no words better than this to describe it. ALSO anon lore, because this is significant. Admittedly, I'm one of the new enstarries… I had quite a few immatureness back then due to the magic of misinformation, but I'm now on the track of improving (hopefully). There's this huge eichi cancelling thing which, until now does not stop ? That matter is like a mystery case to me. I got quite immersed in understanding his character, and I guess it's fun to misprove misphrased and poorly researched info that spreads around. I came in the investigation room disliking eichi, I came out of it thinking and felling (this is a reference to that one meme textpost) that I possibly relate to him a bit. That's all, I believe ! This has to be said, because… I ain't here for too long yet. That one post that goes, "liking a media at the right time".. I wish to see that golden era, yanno? But maybe, even if things stands how it is now, there is still hope. You could say, moments are beautiful because they don't last forever, but I personally can't say anything to it yanno;; Speaking of which ! I have plans on bringing a bit of peace on the tag, though I can't say myself if I could actually do so. I just thought that it's interesting to try my hand at writing </3 The idea scares me, however it is wonderful if you think about it. I'll do my best to shorten this ask response (which isn't really happening) ♪ Yuuta bug protector Lis.. omg !! that is such a cute motivation… I am so impressed ??!?!? he's just like me… AND PLEASEE tell me about the fun fact about scorpions!! I guess talking about most insects are alright, except the dreaded and terrifying butterflies-but-in-their-baby-phase. (i aint gonna say the word. but generally, it's the W**m word… help me. ) The only thing I could say to you is that I only knew monster high, but vaguely and only the popular characters through their appearances. I haven't gotten the chance to watch them before, since we had no cable TVs ;; djdgfkjgdfdk I'm happy to know bout Skelita either way, it makes me think what if things were different, what words would i had spoken to you instead? !! so ! about the final project ideas, let me send that in another ask <3 I always have to remind myself that gacha can return later, so focus on saving up for events first… I am so sorry to the fallen soldiers (spent dias) we have deployed in the battlefield (gacha pulls)… One day, they will be avenged <33 yes, tw stars is like kr stars too. i just dont know if en server will follow through their system because.. why is en server's ribbon shop not including outfits (they're event point locked instead).. my tw server dias are alive and breathing again ! "Noir Neige my beloved and the ultimatum of my insanity"… I love your words so much…. It is the ultimatum of insanity.. omg.. I grinded Ritsu out of objectiveness and spite (to Rei)… He is here with me.. in taiwan server.. I'll prepare a tea party♪

Fun fact, I never really had many ritsus.. But he comes home easily, what a good boy. MAY YOU GET MEOW MEOW RITSU !! that card is so cute… myon myon! It's so hilarious when you think of your friends getting your oshis instead of you. God help us. Being an EccentricsP will never be just a be phase to me.. it is eternal ;; and Thank you for the wishes !! <3 if rei would dare to show up in my pulls, he should prepare x100 amount of apologies for the mental damage pulling for him cost me. that $%&^*#$@#!!! hmff. also kidnapping your yuuta services are free of charge, with tape in the mouth and all ♪

That concludes my response !! please enjoy this plentiful amount of dish, i have to serve my final project ideas as the dessert <3 You don't have to reply to this all to save time ( i reassure you!) and just read this like newspaper so we can have new messages if that's fine with you! , like the gacha part,, & if you have nothing to say ! Conserve your energy for better things !! Once again, I enjoy reading through your responses, they're so ??!??! respectful, even if there is conflict, you know how to take it in a way that isn't harsh. i love that for you. See you~ I don't have to mention the valkatsuki collab, fine halloween and modelgumi story in here, but ya know those ones(so golden!), might mention in a fresh ask.

— 🌻.

HELLOOO SUNFLOWER. I apologize for taking so many days to reply </3 I understand your struggle, school is just. Clenches fists. But it's ok !! You're not forced to reply or anything, so this is already an act of kindness from your side <3 ok, let's see

I would love to show you my themes, I promise I will scroll down my gallery to see if I have any screenshot, even if they're poor quality,, (I hope I find at least some themes) and yes <3 my friends are so cool, but I don't want to talk about the past too much because I'll get nostalgic and cry ahwbfjejd (im not ok)

ALSO, WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT YUTA??? you're so right, I love the little analysis you made. They're an eclipse, maybe that's why Hinata is the day and Yuta is the sunset.. I may love them too much, falls to my knees.

Yes, I was actually thinking about the new community just today, I feel really burnout from these people lately. I miss my friends, I miss the tiny place we held but, you know, "0(-("

Omg anon lore, I kinda imagined it 👀 I recognize patterns of speech (I talked about this before actually) and I indeed didn't recognize yours from old anons from enst community. Immaturities are ok, as long as we learn from them and regret them. I remember I was very furious with TikTok (idk why I'm talking in past, I hate them) because of the misinfo they were spreading on purpose and the canceling issues. If you believe that you should cancel Eichi instead of understanding the moral value and greyness of his character, maybe enstars isn't for you...? Akira wouldn't like them either.

That being said, welcome! Eichi is permanently canceled, this has been going on since the game first came out tbh, don't worry too much about it. AND PLSSS YOU'RE JUST LIKE ME. I'll use this as a confession since ik most followers don't read my anon interactions so ! I am actually a silly Eichi kin (low-key) I remember I didn't like him much at first and then I was like "he's ok" and then I read checkmate and I was like "h- ..hhh-" and yeah, mecore.

Your message is really heartwarming, yes, moments are beautiful because they don't last forever, and I cherish those moments like anything in the world. That made me happy, the happiest, and sometimes I wish I could go back and express my gratitude much more often. They say you don't appreciate things until you loose them, and that's how I feel sometimes. I hope this golden day returns to us one day, maybe it'll be different, a different form of it, but light still.

ALSOOO YOU WANT TO TRY WRITING? that's so cool, I wish you the best !!!! I could never honestly, writing intimidates me a lot but wahh, you're really brave about it.

ー・ー・ー ♡ ー・ー・ー

I love Yuu so much because he's such a scaredy cat <333 I love how. He's the type of teen to go "I'm so mature, I'm not a kid anymore, I'm an adult >:(" and then behaves like a child because, he gets so scared, and so excited about the little things of life. AND I ADORE THAT ABOUT HIM, it's the best thing ever seeing him acting as a person his age in such a complete organic way, I just want him to enjoy the phase he's going on without having to worry about being "stronger" or "more mature" because that gets him to feel bad about himself and deprecate sometimes and it's aughhhh :(((( let him enjoy things and have fears, that doesn't make him less valid than the rest.

Ok so the fun fact about scorpions is that. well, you know hoe there are little scorpions? Because there are the big ones and then the little ones, we have a different name for the small ones, alacranes or alacrán in singular. Well, when one of them stings you, you can later on feel when one is around because your, wound..? will start beating, like a presence. It's kind of dreadful but useful if you don't want to. be attacked. (I understand your fear towards the other insects, they're. yeah 0(-( )

I'm glad you know MH !! I saw it literally being created (I was a child when the first 3 dolls came out and I fell in love ever since) and ! Yeah I never watched through cable TV. I remember I saw the webshow in YouTube and then I bought the pirate movies in the market and played them in the DVD <33 good times. I miss the goth aesthetic they had so much.

I'm glad your savings are good again !! I have. 900 dia in JP and I'm thinking If I should grind for that Kohaku because ahaH crazy:bP here. I want him. I missed my bees, 8 months without seeing my beloved :( (because I will not count USA). Please let this be a signal for me getting kitten Ritsu. I haven't gotten anything from the free pulls so 🙏🙏 being EccentricsP is the best feeling ever, I hope you continue to enjoy them ! (And pls read Secret Labyrinth I'm insane over them)

I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY AND LIFE !!! people do tend to say I talk in a respectful way even when I disagree with things, I see that as an advantage <3 have a good one !

[strawberryamanita]

Sorry, started ranting about live-action adaptations and corporate dilution of artistry, Can't Help Being A Capricorn or whatever

Discourse is allowed, just don't add something like "wow OP/prev you're a fucking reprobate I hope something happens to you that compromises your health" thanks ✌️😘

I'm also not tagging this, so if it breaches containment it's not my fault lmao

If I could be so bold.

I think the reason there's just so nauseatingly many live-action adaptations out right now, and over the past 12 years, is because there were quite a few fan-casts made over the years, whether by one person or a small group brainstorming together. Like if you search "[series] fan cast"***, there's a very good chance you'll find people still having fun with the idea of matching a celebrity up to their cartoon lookalikes, even today. Not corporations trying to drum engagement, not stark and barren listicle websites, but individual human beings who haven't been paid to say what they're saying or do what they're doing. Even after we've seen just how little Hollywood actually does with the concept 95% of the time, people are having fun with hypotheticals and being creative without restraints.

***The exception is live-action adaptations that have been officially made. If you look for things that have not been tainted adapted yet, it's like looking into a portal to a time before all This Shit started happening.

I think the main issue is, nobody who's making those fan-castings is imagining, like, a full-on movie to go with it. It's more like, who would look cute cosplaying as that character. The extent of the idea is a PhotoShop job, and that's it.

Not whatever vortex of billion-dollar soullessness we've been tossed around in for the past decade.

The Nihilist part of me wants to say: "This kind of open discussion online is gonna keep convincing Hollywood that these ideas are guaranteed to birth successful films, so we should just stop having these convos publically" -- but that's an incredibly stupid thought. I'm not gonna try and convince people that creating is something to be ashamed of and hidden away; in this Capitalist Hellworld, where artistry is minimized to keep profits high, commercial-free creativity often feels like our last stand.

I don't really have a solution at this time, myself. Nor do I think I'm responsible for providing one -- the majority of people I've tried to make a big artistic project with can tell you I'm not the most experienced nor the most confident director. But I do know that this is what the culture of media has been since the early 2010s, and all I aim to do with this rant is bring that fact to the forefront.

In the 80s and 90s (and some of the 00s), companies had no problem churning out fun visuals and engaging soundtracks and worldbuilding that took honest-to-God effort by the dozen. I mean we have nostalgia over commercials from those eras, and it wasn't just because we're susceptible to consumerism; if that were the case, we wouldn't roll our eyes and groan whenever we hear the Unholy Trio of a ukulele, glockenspiel and someone whistling over whatever fucking hunk of plastic they're trying to shove in our faces now.

The 00s had a more laid-back vibe to it, particularly with videogame commercials. This was the Era of Grimdark and goths and embracing darkness because it felt more real than anything else, or whatever the fuck I was writing about whilst crying over MCR songs. But even so, a good chunk of 00s media had effort put into it. Yes, more than half of it was horribly problematic and exploitative; I'm not telling you it was good, I'm telling you there was effort. Even the shit with deadpan narration and cheap mascot costumes and out-of-place toilet humor had some sort of creative writing team, had some sort of vision, had some sort of direction.

Then the Internet started ramping up in quality and bandwidth, and people actually could speak loud enough that companies would hear them. To anyone who's too young to remember a world before the Internet being pushed into every corner of everyday life: it wasn’t this way 15+ years ago. Media slowly became more collaborative over the era of AOL and MySpace, because consumer feedback became easier and easier to access. And then with the advent of YouTube in 2006 -- which, as shitty as it is now, was revolutionary at the time, being a place where you could publish videos without needing to audition for anyone -- access to free ideas had very suddenly become exponentially faster. More and more Internet stars were popping up on TV (think "Web Soup" and "Tosh.0"), and then Google bought YouTube and decided to monetize it and now everyone's a rockstar and Andy Warhol's laughing at us from beyond the grave.

Fuck off, Andy.

...Now, I know it feels like I took a million detours -- and I agree that it does, because driving around in my brain feels like zig-zagging between five lanes at once -- but this all came from my theory that the ideas for media are in the hands of unpaid creators. We went from production teams being creative as Hell in the 80s and 90s, to an intentional cynicism in the 00s, to a fizzling-out of ideas and corporations holding their hands out for scraps of ideas from the consumers in the 2010s.

Money isn't trickle-down, but culture sure as shit is trickle-up.

Again, I don't have any ideas on how to fix this. Capitalism breeds a culture that allows exploitation of every fundamental part of human existence, and it knows how to adapt. With every new slew of ideas I have on how to combat it, it worms its way through anyhow. It's like fighting a hydra, and it gives me agita if I think about it for too long.

I don't know.

I remember a time when adaptations were fun to think about, but they almost never came from the minds of people looking to profit off nostalgia. They came from impassioned, vision-driven fans who wanted to try retelling their favorite stories through a different lens... and I think that's a beautiful thing. All fanart is -- fanmade drawings, fanmade covers of songs, fanmade films, cosplay, and fan-casts.

I don't really know how to end this rant neatly. Just... next time you're on your way to watch the latest diluted, regurgitated corporate shlock that's trying to profit off your nostalgia, just remember that there's probably some unpaid, good-natured rando out there that took your favorite media to new heights without any executive meddling. Maybe save a buck or two from not buying a ticket.

Or just watch the original story again, since everyone seems to have forgotten what a re-release is.

I'm taking a nap. Thanks for sticking it out, if you made it this far into whatever the Hell this is.

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

[izzabeean]

Chapter 11 : Apprehensive

SUMMARY

You never thought it would be this hard to open up.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,376

content : profanity

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : Hello! Apologies for this late post. Everything has been a bit hectic lately and I’m struggling to keep up with work and my free time. I have started to slack a bit on my writing. It’s a bit on the shorter side but here is the next chapter!

Because I’m new to this and have bit more off than I can chew, I’ve noticed some timeline errors when writing this chapter. I couldn’t just let it go and had to go back to correct them. 

For those who do not wish to re-read chapter 8 (I understand, it’s a hefty one), please note that at the beginning of the chapter, Y/N and Iwaizumi have a heart-to-heart. Originally it jumps to the same day, but that is an error on my part. The rest of the chapter actually takes place later in the week. So Y/N has spent almost a week at Oikawa’s apartment. 

I appreciate you all for tagging along for this ride. I definitely have been aching to write about Hanamaki or Matsukawa, but will once this series has been completed! Thanks so much xx

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Walking into the empty corridor, you blink at the torn-up flooring exposing the bones of the apartment while noticing dust in the air from the sunlight trickling in through the living room window. Living here for almost four years gave you the alone time you needed. But now it felt foreign. The familiar serene getaway from the pressure of your parents breathing down your neck was now emanating dark energy. A place once full of bright memories seems to turn into the last place you wish to be.

“What is?” Iwaizumi exclaims, following behind you. 

“It’s just weird,” you murmur, smiling up at Iwaizumi. “I haven’t seen it this empty since I moved in.”

That day didn’t feel too long ago. 

As cliche as it sounds, it almost did feel like yesterday. Getting settled into the new space, unsure what to do with yourself in the silence of the apartment. But it wasn't long before you made friends with Oikawa who would come over to study together. He'd always bring snacks from your favorite dessert place and sometimes, if you could convince him, he would stay over to watch your favorite series. Yes, he would complain that he hated it, that it was slow, uninteresting and he's seen better. Then he would shut up and watch knowing that you enjoyed his company in the lonely apartment. 

Your gaze shifts to the bedroom doorway. The last night you spent there, it was with Oikawa, but before that, it was always Ushijima. Not every single night, but when he did, you felt safe pressed up against his broad frame under the covers. Thinking about it now, it makes you regret that you didn't indulge in it more back then.

When you started seeing Ushijima, he became the priority. He would come over for study dates and you'd never have to ask twice to persuade him to watch television series or movies with you. Truthfully, you miss those days. Everything was so simple and new. It felt like a breath of fresh air that you were aching to find. 

Yet here you are now just remembering what you wish to forget. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just move in with me?” Oikawa sniggers, analyzing the janky water-damaged walls that look like they could disintegrate at any moment.

"What? You finally have the balls to say this place isn’t good enough for you?" you mock, raising an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer. 

"No, it's just…” he pauses before continuing, half-heartedly afraid he will offend you. “Old."

You roll your eyes. Yeah it's older than any twenty-something-year-old would want to live in, but you didn't care because of the location to the university and honestly, in your eyes, the apartment is quaint and homey. 

“You always have something to say. Don't you, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi fumes, eyes sending daggers in Oikawa’s direction. 

You couldn't help but let out a snicker that catches Iwaizumi's attention, shooting you a little smile. The natural draw your body has towards Iwaizumi is intoxicating. Your entire mind turns to putty when he looks at you like all your worries will just disappear upon his gaze. Maybe that's why you unconsciously kiss him the other night. 

You don't want him to leave. You want him to stay. But how can you say that when you haven't known him for very long. The Iwaizumi now is so much different from the Iwaizumi in elementary school. Yet you wanted to get to know this person standing in front of you so much more and the limited time made your heartache all over again. 

"Are you excited to move back in?" Iwaizumi asks, his eyes still locked on you.

“Yeah,” you utter, the sound of your heartbeat feels louder than your words. “I can’t wait to settle back in. I miss--”

Ding!

The sound reverberates from Iwaizumi's pocket. 

“Shit, one second,” he exclaims, voice emitting a hint of embarrassment as he takes out his phone to read the text message he just received. “Fuck, I totally forgot. I'm supposed to meet up with some friends.”

“Oh,” you stammer. The words are laced with disappointment, but you remember you don't have Iwaizumi all to yourself. No, he isn't yours, unfortunately. And with that, you quickly switch forcing a smile to hide the gutted feeling encompassing your body. "It's fine!"

“I’m so sorry, I’ll catch up later. Just text me if you guys end up going somewhere else,” he calls out before rushing out the door.

The sound of the door shutting cues a rush of anguish flooding your chest as you wonder where he’s gone off to in such a hurry. He did say friends, but friends could mean anything including a girl. 

Oikawa continues to walk around the apartment and you feel your face pale as you wonder what he's thinking if he knows who Iwaizumi's friends are.  

Stop. You couldn't let yourself spiral into those thoughts. It wasn't like you to think this way, but you can't help yourself when you fear the same disappointment that surges you on the day you saw Ushijima and Sara together. 

Fuck. At least insurance is giving you a bit of a break with the repair costs.

“Landlord says another week until repairs are done," you finally say, breaking the silence. "Then I can start moving my stuff back in.”

“Maybe don’t celebrate just yet, knowing your luck.” Oikawa taunts.

“Oh, is it because you’re going to miss me?” you scoff, attempting to make him squirm, but he plays right into your hands without hesitation.

“Yeah right, thought you said you were sick of me," he japes, taking a swing at the words that practically stung before.

“I guess you could say that...” you breathe.

Your words taste bitter with a drop of guilt as they leave your tongue. Perhaps you felt you owed a lot to Oikawa for basically saving your ass.

With the apartment.

With Ushijima.

You look at the bandage on his face and your eyes trail down to his bruised knuckles. Perhaps you wanted to do more than just buying him his favorite drink. Yet, you didn't even know where to start or what he would want to make things even.

“I-- I’m just joking, just to clarify. Of course, I’m not sick of you,” you sigh, reverting eye contact as you muster up the courage to express your thoughts. “I’m very happy to have you.”

I don’t know what I’m saying, you think while peering at the confusion spread on Oikawa's face. You don't normally open up to him about this kind of stuff and you feel your body burning under his gaze. 

“Sorry this is a bit weird,” you exclaim as the nerves take over and you bite your tongue before you say anything else. 

“No, no, I’m interested now,” Oikawa purrs.

“Well, maybe now I don’t want to tell you!”

"Of course you do," he persuades slyly grinning.

Normally the gesture makes you recoil as you witness his flirtatious nature that you've never succumbed to because that's just how Oikawa Tōru was. But instead, it just pushes the words out. 

"Th-- thank you,” you say unable to even look up at him. “For everything. You’ve really been there for me when no one else has.” 

At first, you think he's going to laugh in your face. In fact, you expected it so, but when you trail your eyes back to meet his, he sends you a small smile. 

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Oikawa comforts.

With a deep breath, you stare into his chocolate brown eyes, drinking in his gaze and he’s giving you that look. It’s the same look he gave you last night when you were patching up his wounds. And it makes your heartthrob. 

“You’re really something Tōru. No wonder all the girls fall for you,” you tease, in an attempt to push away the flush of embarrassment from his words.

“I wouldn’t say all,” Oikawa chuckles. 

His voice is low and sultry, and you wonder what he means by that as contentment warmed you from within.

The exchange lingers but you clear your throat and turn away to walk around the apartment. The gesture causes Oikawa to shift his weight from side to side looking at your figure in the small space. 

“I think I’ve seen more than enough,” you exhale taking one last glance out the living room window. “Shall we head out?”

“Sure.”

Oikawa walks down the short hallway, while you take a moment longer to soak up your apartment.

“See you soon,” you whisper before turning your back to leave.

Just as you close the door behind you to lock up, you hit your back into Oikawa’s frame who is standing firmly behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, then peak behind his body to see Ushijima standing at the end of the hallway.“Wa-Wakkun… What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he demands. 

Although you can't get a good look at him in detail, you can see his face is bandaged up from Oikawa’s punch.

“I don’t--”

“And you think I’m going to let that happen?” Oikawa rages, placing his body in between you and Ushijima. 

“Tōru, it’s okay,” you reiterate, touching his shoulder lightly to reassure it's not worth his energy. 

“Or did you not understand anything from last night?” Oikawa continues ignoring your words and shaking your hand off his shoulder. 

“Maybe we should ask Y/N instead of you making decisions for her,” Ushijima booms, remaining calm.

“Tōru, come on,” you sneer, grabbing his arm to pull him along, but he wiggles your hand off once again.

“I know for a fact she doesn’t want to talk to you," he sputters, eyes narrowing on Ushijima. 

But your patience hit its limit. This time your anger couldn't be pushed down as your blood starts to boil. And you unleashed it in front of Oikawa, stepping in front of him shooting him a furious glare.

“Are you going to fucking listen or not?”

Your voice snaps him to his senses seeing your eyes glossed over but filled with rage. 

“You don’t speak for me,” you thundered. “Let’s go.”

You grab his hand and yank him forward, walking by Ushijima ignoring him.

“Y/N, please,” Ushijima pleads.

Yet you don't turn back. You can't. It isn't in your best interest to talk it out or hear his point of view. This isn't something that can be fixed with words. He hurt you and you could not surrender what is left of your dignity. You had to move on, in your own way just as he's doing.

“Don’t fucking do that again,” you bark as you continue to drag Oikawa behind holding his hand tightly.

“That guy is basically stalking you,” Oikawa argues trying to keep up with your frantic strides. 

“So what? I can handle it myself.”

“I was just trying to help--”

“And look what happened last time!” 

Your legs come to a stop and you swallow thickly. Your voice erupts as your heart sinks at the realization of how angry and guilty you feel, of how mad you are at yourself for letting Oikawa get in the middle of your issues with Ushijima. The familiar sense of dread returns and the look from Oikawa’s shocked wide eyes make you regret your outburst.

“You got hurt because of me,” you manage to breathe, slowly sliding your hand out of his. 

But before you let go, he grabs it tight then pulls you in close, your face enveloped into his chest and his chin resting on the top of your head. The sensation offsets your frustration and anger, you hadn't known it, but once you received the warm and comforting embrace you realize it’s what you really needed all this time. 

“If we left at the beginning of the night, you would’ve been fine,” you gasp, trying to get the words out, but your voice breaks a little. Your chest feels tight like your heart is going to burst any moment now as it continues to descend deeper and deeper into dread. 

Oikawa doesn’t say a word, afraid that he’ll ruin the moment if he does. His worry grows as he takes a deep breath in expecting you to smell like nicotine or ting of smoke, from the secret you have been keeping from him. But you have this indescribable scent that draws him in closer heating up his entire body as he presses yours into his. Not wanting to let go. 

“But because I had to prove a point, we stayed,” you continue, and feel tears beginning to form, blurring your vision. “I’m the one at fault here.”

"No Y/N," Oikawa says trying to soothe you. He thinks he can forget the throbbing pain in his chest as he looks at you undone before him. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for involving myself."

"It's okay," you say taking a sharp breath. He smells so good and his hug is doing wonders for your mental health but you pull away worried that you've overstayed your welcome.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” you sniffle, wiping the tears with your sleeve. 

“Mmm don’t know…” he murmurs.“I just don’t like him.” 

You frown at his reply. Does he really not have an actual explanation? 

“Well that’s stupid,” you breathe, unsure if you actually believe it. “Did he steal a girl from you or something?”

“No!” he responds, quicker than he wishes he did. He remembers when you first mentioned Ushijima’s name, there was a sparkle in your eyes he’s never seen before. At that moment, he promised himself to not get in the way and remain neutral, but Oikawa was much pettier than that. 

“Who was it?” you snort, only half sure he’ll actually tell you. 

“No one,” he chuckles. “We don’t have the same type anyway.”

“Why? I’m not your type?” 

Your voice is soft and innocent as he pauses to analyze whether you are being serious or not. 

“Kidding! Obviously,” you snarl. 

By now, there’s this ease of tension between the two of you as you lapse into silence. Nothing more needed to be said.