#gosh who allows the passage of time

[hellebore-petall]

I feel like I am in my corruption arc because my favourite arc 11 PC has been shifting from Atelut to Foq.

[evelili]

I just finished your Magnum Opus, and it was super great. I especially loved the Pinkie chapter (which surprised me because she’s my least favorite character!). Anyway, do you have any mlp fic recommendations?

oh boy do i have a list for you, strap in!

if you read my magnum opus writeup, you may have seen i mentioned three authors that dragged me back into mlp. if you're interested in sciset (and what's probably the most popular eqg fic on the entire site), Long Road to Friendship by Albi is a longfic that started after the first eqg movie and is a rlly lighthearted read. i don't normally care for OCs but gosh if i dont accept Albi's version of trixie's parents as canon in my heart haha. if you're interested in pony adventure fic, i also rlly liked Sunset of Time, another rlly well done longfic ive carried in my brain since i first read it xd

the second author, Monochromatic, aka the raritwi authority aka someone who has a GREAT taste in editors, has written three of the most formative longfic ive ever read: The Enchanted Library, its sequel The Enchanted Kingdom, and Crimson Lips which i unfortunately can no longer link since she's taken it down, but i believe you can still buy physically through PFP if you wanted to take a gamble on it (it would be a very good gamble). apart from her longfic though i also adore some of her shorter works, including but not limited to The Choices We Make, a really interesting Pinkie study that's definitely shaped how i view her, Your Own Worst Enemy, which is just. peak rarity content, and Injuring Eternity, which while being one of her older works still has certain passages that wreck me emotionally on sight.

and the third author responsible for my magnum opus is the one and only Aragon, who i can not only recommend for his fics but ALSO for his blog posts and comics (see the comic index on his profile for links to all of them, as well as this amazing blogpost about his neighbour that is just peak comedy). he's also the writer responsible for the banger longfic Crime and Funishment which absolutely defined my writing aspirations for a few years and is the definition of comedy if you looked it up in my heart, as well as In Hindsight, yet another banger rarity fic, and Love Is In Doom which is just bloody, silly, stupid fun (and has sunset shimmer in it)

and then if we want to talk fics i love written by other authors, Sleepless Knights by r5h has my favourite brand of scitwi written right into the margins, Administrative Angel by horizon has one of the most amazing endings to an opening chapter ive ever read AND an amazing celestia, The Best Night Ever by Capn_Chryssalid is a fandom classic with a groundhog day twist on the gala episode from s1, Side by Side by Krickis is a feel-good rarijack oneshot w a focus on lgbt (specifically trans) themes, Wax Earplugs by Reedhoarse has a dysfunctional mess of an adagio dazzle that i adore, Merge Request by FanOfMostEverything has all the scitwi/midnight shenanigans you could ask for wrapped up in the relatable content of github hell, Guppy Love by PaulAsaran is a rarijack longfic with an incredibly realistic setting and an interpretation of mermaids that i love so much, Doused Flame by heartlessons has me handshaking on the "sopping wet pathetic relatable guy" flash sentry interpretation that won me over recently, 80 Days 'Til the World's Farthest Shore by Cynewulf feels like reading a professionally published short story (and i mean that in the best of ways, it's enthralling), and finally if you'll allow me to be self-centred a bit i also am very proud of my two oneshots Heartstrings and Something About Midnights if you wanted to check em out too xd

oops long post!! im not sorry for it, i hope you can find something in here that catches your fancy (or even all of it haha), there's soooo many incredible fics in the fandom it floors me every day that i can read all these incredible works for free!!!

[vengefulvermin]

Can i get more passage of time/music development yapping ☹️☹️☹️??? I give you official permission to yap the most you can im so interested

YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ASK

warning beneath the cut SCARY WALL OF TEXT WARNING 😱

decided to divide it into colored parts if you dont gaf about certain elements 😭

second warning all of this is unedited rambling so some points might contradict each other or just plain not make sense.

okay so for CONTEXTTTTT

i have diagnosed OCD, and like, roughly since the end of last year and the beginning of this one, the 'obsession' part of OCD that was negatively affecting me, was the concept of time. how fleeting it was. how it's basically unescapable ALL THINGS MUST PASS (get out of my head george harrison) that shit proper cold dead SCARED ME MAN. sleepless & haunting me in my dreams type shi. sometimes it still does. i try not to think about it too much

to cope, i found great comfort in the 70s-80s since at the time i was and still am hyperfixated on david bowie and that was sort of his prime (love his 90s-00s work tho.) i was also starting to think of how much parallels and similar experiences i have to previous generations and how it's not ALL that bad after all so far. i can still walk to a record store and roller skate if i really wanted to, or go to a diner.

okey here's where the life changing stuff happens. i decided i'd listen to pink floyd's the dark side of the moon. then TIME CAME ON. ohhhh god oh gosh golly god i was bawling and everything the whole song spoke to me on a molecular level. then i found out about DB's song also called time, and i ALSO crode to that. i was like. wow. i'm not alone on this feeling of utter desperation and helplessness as eventually all things Must Pass. (GEORGE HARRSION GTFO)

i used to be bitchy on how i whined i was part of the 'wrong generation.' i thought i was alone, but virtually everyone of almost every era has thought this. somebody who lived my dream life wished they had what i have now.

that's when i started to lowkey realize the parallels and oneness of human experience. i could go to a club in the 70s, and (granted the infrastructure and music remains similar) i could today. nothing would change on how i perceive events. there is no color filter on the past. unless you got huge TVs and stuff all over your house, you could walk around, and think it's the 80s. AND IT'S BASICALLY THE 80s. the way your parents or any other gen Xer saw the world with their *eyes* (not counting the changes in buildings and stuff) is the same as you today pretty much.

i already really enjoy subcultures, and particularly how they evolve and adapt. the indomitable human spirit prevails no matter how gentrified or 'banned' things become. nowadays i feel like there is No Youth Subcultures. at least, none that will pass the test of time and be memorable enough to be remembered in the books. nobody's gonna go to their child and proudly say: "when i was your age, i was a chav" or something. and i credit this to the lack of creativity allowed in the wider music industry.

HEAR ME OUT this is because 90% of youth subcultures had everything to do with music. and now, everything must be palatable. to be clear there's nothing inherently wrong with that type of music, but to me it speaks no soul. it has no risks. contemporary pop music is very much formulaic and this is because now more than ever entertainment (this also applies to movies btw) is more of an investment than passion. I WILL SPECIFY.

music production is so vastly different genre to genre, and we're not letting it flourish because of how much short form content is valued nowadays. LET ME COOK.

tiktoks are formulaic. algorithms are formulaic. WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. there must be an instant hook or rift in music if you want to 'go viral' as a musician. digitized fame doesn't mean SHIT (to me), since clearly monthly listeners don't equate real world fans. album sales are being replaced with streams, and because of how ASS spotify treats its artists, newer, less established acts need to GET ON THE GRIND INSTANTLY to earn Coin. that means that to be smart and work with the exploitative system they're given, they have to make albums filled with 1 minute 30 second songs. so you can technically give them the most amount of streams possible. i feel with this formulaic approach, you can't get 6 minute long gutwrenching guitar pieces. no more 4 minute drum solos, hell avant garde experimental works were 2 people shout their names out at each other for 20 minutes. THERE ARE NO MORE FRANK ZAPPAS.

i'm not going to be one of those sad assholes who claim there's 'no more good rock music' and how it'll never be the same. as corny as this is, the next beatles or nirvana could be right under our noses and we'll NEVER know because of how fame is distributed. it sucks to see a small band beg on tiktok for streams to kickstart their career. but this is what we gotta work with. if we want subcultures to be created and thrive, we gotta go looking underground again, except unlike in the past it's a kajillion times easier now AND everything gets gentrified in 2 tiktok weeks. but this is evolution. MUSIC EVOLUTION

the end honk shoo honk shoo (it's midnight)

[lifblogs]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

How many words have you written this year?

304,429. Wow, I’m stunned by this number.

How many works did you publish this year?

96!

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I have to list a few. Brother, Hold Me Up, May They Be Remembered, The World Goes Cold, Mayday, We Do This Together, and May I Have This Dance? (I’m still stunned the artist who did the art this fic was based off of loves this fic, and that I was allowed to post their art with my fic!)

What work of yours has the most hits?

Brother, Hold Me Up.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

And They Would Not Let Him Fall.

Favorite title you used

Brother, Hold Me Up, The World Goes Cold, Better Late Than Dead, Good Soldiers Follow Orders, May I Have This Dance?, File Name, Failed Objective (mostly because of the morbidity of what said objective was), A Cup of Caf, May They Be Remembered, Beautiful Treasures (I’m just in love with the dialogue this was based off of), Have You Heard of the Venomous Twirfang?, To Worship the Stars, and We’re a Family (based off of some canon Tech dialogue, the feels).

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Sam Tinnesz, and Ruelle.

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

TechPhee.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

Techlock, and TechPhee.

What work was the quickest to write?

I think Failed Objective.

What work took you the longest to write?

Brother, Hold Me Up, and The World Goes Cold. Honorary one-shots for this are May They Be Remembered, Mayday, and We Do This Together.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

4, I believe, and there is a LONG list of ideas.

What’s your longest work of the year?

Brother, Hold Me Up.

What’s your shortest work of the year?

Boop.

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

Brother, Hold Me Up, of course.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Angst, and whump.

Your favorite character to write this year?

Oh gosh, how do I choose? Does every character I’ve written this year count? Okay, so my stats say Tech, and Hunter. Crosshair, and Omega have been a blast too! And I love writing Phee with Tech. She has this disarming kind of humor that works well in basically every scene.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Echo. He isn’t a character I’ve focused on a lot.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

Does more TechPhee, and more Techlock count? Maybe Crosshair and Rampart. Those two sure had something messed up.

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Oh, this is a hard one! Probably The World Goes Cold, though I also want to say May They Be Remembered, Mayday, We Do This Together, and May I Have This Dance?.

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

4061. Holy hell, I had no idea.

Which work has the most comments?

Brother, Hold Me Up.

Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Yes! But it’s for a zine that is in the process of getting published.

Did you write any gifts this year?

Oh yeah. I wrote Eggs for my bestie @miss-mouse99, and I really loved getting to spend that time with Echo.

Did you receive any gifts this year?

I don’t believe so, but that’s okay.

What’s your most common category?

Gen.

What do you listen to while writing?

Just my best of The Bad Batch playlist.

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Fam, that’s a tough question. Too many are my favorites. I’d have to say just look at the works I’m proud of list.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

This entire passage. Brings me to tears every time.

“You may not know me,” Hunter began, drawing Omega’s attention back to him. “I’m a Ninety-Nine. So that would make sense. But I know you. I know that what was done to you here was unspeakable and that nothing can take away your months of pain, nothing will truly be enough to avenge it. But I see you all today, my brothers, and I want to let you know that I am with you. Men like Captain Rex, and Echo, and Captain Howzer are with you. I… I didn’t always like regs—regular clones—but today I see you, and I embrace you all. What the Empire has done to you is wrong. We are not Imperial property. We are not anyone’s property. We belong to ourselves, to each other. I look out at you now, and I finally understand the fight you all began. Your sacrifice can never be repaid. I am honored to be your brother, and…” he looked to Omega, smiling, even as tears welled in his eyes. “I am honored to be a father.” Omega beamed at him, and he turned back to the crowd, the brave army before them. “There is no fixing what was done to you,” he said. “But, we can start somewhere. This—this is for all of us—not just for who I see here today, but also in the names of those who aren’t.” 

Many clones started murmuring names, their voices loud as one, getting louder and louder as everyone joined together, voicing the fallen. They were like a broken chorus, weaving a melody through the chaos from their shared losses. It overwhelmed Omega, as if through their remembrance the spirits of those brutally and carelessly killed were by their sides, holding their hands.

“Emerie,” Omega joined in.

Crosshair beside her said, “Mayday.”

“May they be remembered…” Hunter went on. His burning eyes landed on Hemlock. “And may their vengeance find you even after death.”

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

I can effin’ write! See, I hadn’t been doing a lot of writing since some traumatic things happened to me the last few years that seemed to kill my writing spirit. And I hit my head on January 20th, and again on the 23rd, resulting in a TBI. I had no clue I could still write, and write well. And I WANTED to write. I NEEDED to write. The Bad Batch gave me that.

[bluezey]

So here's something fun to think about. I like Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. I'm also a Christian. I'm sure that's no big thing, I've even found a fan or two that are religious. But let's say I can't talk about the shows on my personal Facebook blog without getting some comments about "the enemy getting into my home" or how I have to cover up the pentagrams on my Alastor standees with electrical tape. I mean I don't like them, but it fits the show, and I guess making them stars doesn't work for my mom 😅

So, why do I like the shows? Well, it's good and funny! Dark humor that I know some would be offended by, especially Christians, but for me, I can look past them being demons and see a funny show with great characters. The designs are great, some even amazing. Helluva Boss is evolving into its own show in the second season, as the first season was more the setup of the premise, but the seasons are still good, especially for an independent production released in YouTube.

And Hazbin Hotel, not only good and funny, but the premise is fascinating! The princess of hell, aka Lucifer's daughter, wanting to save her people by rehabilitating demons so they can get into heaven. This is an interesting concept! Reminds me a lot of iron sharpening iron, or maybe even blind leading the blind. Because, what do demons think is good? What do demons think make a demon rehabilitated? Will heaven accept and work with hell to allow good demons into heaven? It also kinda reminds me of the lost book of the Bible called the Revelation of Peter. It's basically the same thing as the Revelation of John, but with an additional passage where Peter and an angel looked down into hell, and the angel basically said "you know, those sinners aren't trapped in hell, all they got to do is accept Christ and they'll be released into heaven." I find it fascinating and kind of funny that, when deciding between these two books, the people putting together the definitive Bible decided "nah, we don't like people getting a chance to escape eternal punishment, let's go with John's book" 😅

Now there are a few nitpicks that, I'm not gonna say dislike, but more like deal with it. One is realizing that some of the demons and lore of the shows are based on some demonology. So Vivziepop has done her homework, and that respectable and impressive. But, the research is so well researched, I'm a little sus at times about how well she knows her stuff. But, I'm not gonna judge her religious beliefs, so I'll let that slide. The second, and another nitpick, I was excited to see the angels after seeing how amazing the designs of the characters look, only to find that the angels look much like the demons in design. That's a little underwhelming imo, but again, I was personally expecting too much I guess. Also, maybe there's some kind of reasoning or message behind the angels and demons having similar designs. Third, another nitpick, but I think they're starting too soon with the demons fighting back against the exterminations. I mean, I'm excited as hell too, but I feel it's too soon. I want to see them try to rehabilitate demons first. But who knows, maybe the angels didn't take Charlie seriously, and this is their way of showing it. I mean, I'd fight back too. I'm pretty sure when demons double die, there's no double hell, and the demons are just trying to survive day by day in hell. And I feel for them having to live through that, especially cause it's eternal, and they can also die. There's some humanity in these demons, particularly the ones that were humans before, or aren't total evil like Asmodeous or Moxxie.

In fact, I can't help but notice that I do like the least evil characters such as Moxxie and Charlie, then later the more evil but complex characters such as Angel Dust and Alastor. Oh my gosh, I love how nostalgic and awesome Alastor is! And that voice is the best part! Then I find out why he's down in hell, and why he likes being in hell, and I'm like.... why do I still like this guy? Why do I like him more??

Anyway, guess as a Christian, Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are like my guilty pleasure shows. Yes I get why some religious people would hate the show, and why I probably shouldn't like the show. But, I do like the show anyhow. Because I can look past the demons and the hellfire, and try and ignore the glyphs and pentagrams 😅 and see some great writing and animation behind it

[system-of-a-feather]

we use to be mutals back in like. gosh i think late 2019/2018? i was 15 at the time and honestly watching u grow as an individual has given my system a lot of hope for our own recovery & just in general as an abuse survivor :]

im proud of the person u have become, you have continued to mature and grow and the individual u continue to be is a good one. we may not walk the same path anymore friend but im always glad to see u on my dash <3

hope ur having a great day, and keep up the progress !!

FUCK 2018/2019 WAS 4-5 YEARS AGO WHO ALLOWED THAT TO HAPPEN

I swear to GOD time ceased to continue after the pandemic and it is forever 2020 I SWEAR I hate time 😂

Also I can't believe I have had this blog running for that long 😂 Way to jumpscare a dissociative person with the TW passage of time /lh /j

But man dude its so good to hear that so thanks for sharing 😂 I knew you have to have been here for a bit to know just how fuckin tired I used to be and while Im A LOT better now Im like "HEY THATS LEVEL 2 DEDICATED PEER INSIGHT"

Also in hindsight checks our why Lucille was also on the list, he was WAY WAY WAY more prominent in 2018-2020 in our system cause it was the tail end of his era as primary protector where as now, rather than a primary protector, we have the council of elders who sit back and watch us be dumb so we can learn and occasionally when its actually needed step up 😂

If you ever wanna send a DM feel free cause I do wonder if Ill recognize yall despite the 1) time and 2) DID but regardless this was a plesant blast from the past regardless of if I know what blog of the ancient you were in the past

[ihasafandom]

I thought foals are also usually born front-first?

I suppose the front womb could actually just hold the placenta?? But that seems like a bad arrangement, due to the length of the cord to the fetus.

Obviously the most sensical option is that she only has the hindmost reproductive organs at all. And also that the pregnancy aspect is doylistically exaggerated in both halves and she would not be nearly as swollen when seen in person.

Also man is it just me or are her middle shoulders also rather sunken and weirdly slim? Having a horse's shoulder girdle to pass through should Help with the human pelvis problem, but instead it looks even more awkward.

With the conveyor belt proposition I had assumed that only frontal insemination was possible (probably with a somewhat more diagonal or horizontal passage, or else a more flexible reciprocal organ, @ whoever it was that was saying there would be positional/leverage problems), that a new pregnancy would only be possible once the previous baby was moved down, that the time that it takes to finish the upper gestation was at least as long if not longer than the period that the lower gestation takes, and that it was NOT a build-a-bear situation but instead both halves are fully wedded and grow at the same rate, but GOSH do some of y'all have horrible ideas/complications to add.

For the person who mentioned breathing issues due to such small nostrils, I concur. Could one maybe ameliorate it somewhat by separating the respiratory track into left and right pipes meeting at the deepest point and using the dual sets of lungs as bellows to create a more constant flow of air in one direction rather than the in-out motion that we use, similar to the heart? The nostrils themselves will still be rather small, especially when performing vigorous activity, and holding her breath might not be so much of a thing... but at least you would get ~twice as much air as you would otherwise, and there would be a reason to have two sets of lungs then, when otherwise you'd maybe just want to bypass the human torso altogether and reserve that for idk just the stomach and meat/fruit digestive bits I suppose.

Unless the upper swelling is in fact simply her lungs working as intended and filling the entire upper torso and expanding on inhale an amount that we only see as absurd due to our earth-centrism... I think that would be plenty large enough to accommodate her full body, and would avoid the back strain that that much solid tissue would have on her poorly designed vertical human spine.

Hmm, and if we do that we might as well go full xeno and take the most of the weird drawing, assuming that her spine follows the path of the dress more; curve it forward a bit so it's not so right-angled, give her some muscle attachments so raising her torso up is possible...

Please forgive my shoulder and hip girdles. I do not know horse bone anatomy. She's still doing a weird pose, maybe stretching out her hindquarters and back a bit, but much more believable.

So with this biblically accurate centaur we have a more clearly evolved centaur too, from a hexapodal ancester that developed raptorial forelimbs like a praying mantis. The weight of her forehalf is more evenly distributed on a wide middle shoulder girdle, her nerves are less compressed by a sharp spine angle and there is clearly a great range of motion both forward and back since separated foreribs allow squishing the lungs higher to bend over. I don't know how the separated ribs will affect the foreshoulders and arms, but since a centaur isn't going to be climbing trees it's acceptable that she loses some arm strength with a loss of brachiation in her recent ancestry.

Really to make the distended gut make sense you could make a smooth line from the foreribs through below the stomach to connect to the gut. Then you have a streamlined shape that looks decent, even if not like an earthly/mythical centaur.

Behold!

A Cursed Image!

(I had to see this with mine own eyes and I feel compelled to inflict it upon all of you)

[hello-there]

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[drearydaffodils]

An Eternity With You

Request by @anzaisaki : Hi thereee, can I request a Legolas with a s/o who is touch-starved when they're about to sleep plz?

A/N: Oh my gosh, this was so adorable to write, thank you for requesting! It takes me a while to write short drabbles like this, but I'll try to write at least three a week <3

Meleth nîn : my love / melda : dearest

Gender Neutral Reader

600+ Words

The effulgent light of the moon and stars shone through the vast canopy of the Mirkwood forest and reflected on two lovestruck figures. You sat upon a cushioned armchair with your arms intertwined around your lover, Legolas, as a soft breeze whizzed past you. Wisps of platinum blonde hair tickled the reddened skin of your cheekbone, and a quiet giggle flew out of your lips. The elfling glanced down at you with a small smile.

"Meleth nîn, are you cold?" He cupped his hands around your face and gazed upon you, in awestruck wonder, before pressing his lips to your forehead.

"A little,” You yawned.

Legolas lowered his hands and tightened his grip around you as you pressed yourself further into his warm embrace. Drowsiness tugged at the corners of your eyes as he propped your head upon his broad chest. He reminded you of a home you had left long ago, before it had been overrun by the malicious orcs of Mordor. Although they had long been erased, they still haunted you in the shadowy depths of your mind, and Legolas was your comfort from their eminent terror. He was your peace and your serenity, and he chased away the threats of your subconscious mind by his mere presence alone. Perhaps, you sometimes thought to yourself, you were the same symbol to him, the same anchor.

As your train of thought mindlessly wound throughout your mind, you slipped farther and farther into an oncoming slumber. Legolas faintly chuckled and shook your body lightly, his breath hitting your forehead.

“Y/n, melda, we cannot sleep out here.”

You mumbled incoherently under your breath as he gently pushed your body beside him, and stood up from the armchair. You reached out, longing for his warmth once more, and he gently scooped you up in his arms.

“Legolas… where are we going…” It was a struggle to keep your eyes open as sleep retained its hold upon you, and without your senses, you clung onto your betrothed ceaselessly. He did not complain in the least bit, in fact, he enjoyed every exclusive moment that he could spend with you. You were the most beautiful being to ever walk upon Middle-Earth in his eyes, and he knew his love for you would never diminish. He would not allow the passage of time to relinquish his adoration for you.

“To our bed,” he responded to your question, as he traversed through the dimly lit halls of Mirkwood. He finally reached the comfort of his room, and a light breath of relief fell from his soft lips. Every moment he spent with you was like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, and he clutched onto the youthful feeling like a landline.

After passing through his door, he immediately set you down upon his mattress, but you clung onto his arm with a grip of iron.

“Legolas…”

“Yes, meleth nîn?”

“Please stay here…”

He had planned on extinguishing the candles that lit up the corners of his extravagant room, but he did not wish to disturb your sleep. However, he could not bear to see your sorrowful face as he would retreat away from you, or hear your sleep stricken voice call his name. You were a clingy mess whenever the moon rose upon the darkened sky, and since he was more than entranced with you, he would abide by your every request without a moments’ hesitation.

He slipped into bed beside your form and you wrapped your arms around his torso. A ghost of a smile pulled on his lips as he shifted you to lay on top of his torso, and leaned down to pepper kisses on your face. You hid yourself in the fabric of his tunic, perhaps to avoid his affection, or perhaps it was a result of your dream-like trance, but nevertheless, all of your actions caused a fluttering sensation to dance within the elf’s heart. He caressed your hair with his nimble fingers and let out a sigh of contentment. He would spend eternity within your hold, if the gods would allow it.

[galaxina-the-pyro]

Either gonna call this the "In His Eyes" AU to differentiate, but this is a Soulmate AU basically so I'mma tag it like that.

This story was greatly inspired by "Rewrite the Stars" by fangirlwriting on Fanfiction.com, I HIGHLY reccommend reading that. (Tumblr's acting weird, it won't let me link the entire title to the story, but whatever)

Story:

In this universe, everyone is born with grey eyes - or rather, eyes that appear grey to everyone other than your soulmate and vice versa. Isabella, a romantic even in her earlier years, is absolutely enamored with the idea of finding her one true love to the point of it turning into an obsession of hers. Her abrasive, reckless nature paired up with her pushiness that she mistakes for determination (which she HAS but...double-edged sword), while she HAS friends, she's considered an oddball amongst her peers, even with finding a soulmate being considered a rite of passage as it were in their society.

One Summer, while getting her tonsils removed, she meets a boy with bandages over his eyes named Phineas. He explains to her, though poorly, that his eyes were damaged from a sickness he caught a few years prior, and has to have annual "check-ups" (really, surgeries) in order to keep the illness from completely ruining his eyes (eating his entire gosh darn face). As a result, he is blind and is forced to wear medical blindfolds due to how damaged his eyes are.

Phineas and Isabella become really good friends, and over the years their bond strengthens. At the age of fourteen, Phineas is able to get prosthetic eyes that allow him to actually see stuff after all those years of being sick, but unfortunately, it renders him completely color blind, meaning he'll never be able to find his soulmate (though it's like...still a step up from being totally blind, so Phineas takes the bad with the good; in fact, he seems totally okay with it, focusing more on how he can actually SEE his loved ones for the first time in YEARS. And Isabella...oh gosh Isabella...he'd never been happier to see ANYONE before).

Overtime, Phineas and Isabella individually realize they've fallen in LOVE with each other. Sure, they'd both had crushes on each other, but Isabella's mom told her it was a phase she'd grow out of (though...she never said WHEN, and like...those feelings most CERTAINLY never died out; if anything her friends insisted that they got stronger), and Phineas didn't realize it WAS a crush until he got a little older (he just thought he REALLY liked her in comparison to most people; she'd been there for him through a lot, after all, it's totally normal to think about someone like that for like...90% of your waking day at least, right?). After a lot of prodding and reassurance, the two manage to, somehow, confess, and they start courting and everything is wonderful and great and Isabella has never felt so happy who needs a soulmate when you have Phineas he practically WAS her-

She meets her soulmate about a few weeks later. Which VERY much complicates things - not just because of her relationship with Phineas, but because her DATING someone who IS NOT her soulmate is VERY MUCH frowned upon. The whole ordeal causes Isabella to doubt the system and her goal itself, wondering what really counts as a soulmate - the color of someone's eyes, or something much deeper. Phineas, on the other hand, must choose to either let Isabella be with her soulmate or fight to be with her.

The story's filled with twists and turns, wacky shenanigans, a LOT of side ships because this is a SOULMATE AU GOSH DANGIT, it thrives on SHIPS, some tears for good measure, a whole lot of laughs, and all that good mushy stuff one needs in a romantic comedy of errors.

[theharrowing]

Revisit Thoughts:

ohhhhh boy, oh boy. Hwasa.

also, oh boy oh boy, this fucking chapter was over 30k words when i finished writing it alkkjalfjaslfjaslfjsafla. i ended up going way too ham on a smut scene for reasons i cannot even begin to fully defend, and broke this bad boy into 2 parts, elongating the story by one more chapter and making it 22 in total.

alright, let's goooo!!!

a new nickname enters the ring!

mc nickname list: darling, sweetheart, doll/dollface, dove, buttercup, lamb, wolf, cub (deer, fawn)

interesting to see the vague passage of time and how things have changed. mc coughed last time she was offered weed and then spaced out way too hard. now she carries with her a joint that she intends to smoke alone in the alley.

oh my gosh, i just recalled writing this scene with Jungkook walking in on mc practicing the floor move way back before i even had anywhere to concretely put it. the plan was to have mc stay with Jimin and be part of his world eventually but the outline was loose and i wasn't even sure there would be this kind of chemistry between the characters, yet. i only ended up having to edit it a little to make it fit in with this chapter. (back when i wrote this, jk didn't work at Paradise because The Tigers weren't part of the story. i intended to just figure out a reason for him to be there when the time came lmao. "I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him." was even the line he gave back then because it seemed open enough to work for any situation.)

^ me sprinkling in a hint of Jungkook lore.

Namjoon gets out of bed to turn off the light, and for a split moment, in the cold, crushing dark, you begin to feel anxiety rush over you. In the cold, crushing dark, you are alone, alone, alone, isolated and heavy and so terribly scared. But then the bed dips, and warmth slides into place beside you. Limbs settle with a familiar weight, and suddenly, the darkness feels and smells like home.

this made me cry when i wrote it lmaooooo.

Still, how do you explain that to someone who asks? I was kidnapped as collateral, but we fell in love feels like a story not too many people would understand. Probably, the average person would ask if you were alright and attempt to help you find refuge. Probably, they would be in their right mind to do so. 

at no point do i ever intend to allow the reader to forget lol.

changing the anime mc and Jimin are watching from Attack on Titan to Chainsaw man because i absolutely fucking hated the ending of AoT lmao.

haaaaaaa, woof. the tension. tbh i think part of the reason i wanted to introduce Jungkook to the fold was because i really wanted to build tension in a different way. i said this already but asldasldjasd it's just so palpable in this chapter. and then we have Hyejin, who will return in ways i don't think anyone is ready for.

onto the second half of this mega chapter!!! i am so excited to revisit this next one for reasons.

Collateral 🗡️ 17 - Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader 🗡️ word count: 15.6k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️ chapter warnings: excessive drinking to numb/forget; so much fucking tension lolol; Hwasa (yes, that is the warning); new nickname for the bingo card (doll/dollface); Jeongguk is a flirty little shit & he got his eyebrow and lip pierced; mc learns to dance; use of "whore" (not derogatory but also kind of derogatory); smoking weed; mc confessing to "going all ways" (sorry straight readers, but i don't know how to not write a queer mc); mc has some complicated feelings and is doing her best; Jeongguk sometimes says the wrong thing but he is also doing his best; a healthy amount of crying; mention of dead moms; discussion of drug use & addiction; inexplicit discussion of sex (sorry lads, the smut is in the second half. it's worth the wait!!!)

🗡️ note: this chapter spans about three weeks, and there is no clear definition of time in between some scenes because mc is just kind of...dealing with the passage of time in her own way. so if it seems kind of disjointed, that is because it is meant to. also, as you may have seen, this chapter wound up being 30k words, so i have broken it in two parts and beefed up some of the scenes. i intend to post chapter 18 very, very soon. ok i love you, enjoy!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

You love Yoongi; there is no question about it. 

Despite the hurt and confusion and pain, one thing that you are certain about, above all else, is that you love him. 

And that is why you drink. 

You drink to numb the myriad feelings. You drink to pass the time. You drink to forget. With a twinkling haze of intoxication, loud club beats, and bright lights, you drink, and drink, and drink. 

Jimin caves instantly on his insistence to not teach you how to dance, and you realize that he is not only a brilliant dancer, but that he seems to really enjoy having someone around to join him. Behind Paradise is a ballet studio that he owns and rents out to instructors. When he has free time, he goes there to practice in front of the wall of mirrors while some sultry melody plays on an old-fashioned boombox in the corner. 

Sometimes he throws on a hip-hop beat and does experimental moves with his body, contorting his limbs in square, jarring movements. Other times he drifts gracefully through the space to ballet pieces, muttering about Tchaikovski, Prokofiev, and other names of long-dead men that you struggle to pronounce. He is always magnificent—a true artist of his craft. 

It takes no time at all to become a friendly face at Paradise. Within just a few nights, the cocktail waitresses, dancers, bartenders, and regulars all seem happy to greet you. Jimin has introduced you to everyone as dove, a nickname you quickly warm up to, which is what everyone there calls you. 

Everyone, that is, except the new bar manager, Jeon Jeongguk. 

At Paradise, under the flashy red, purple, and fuchsia lights, he calls you dollface, or doll for short. And at first, you fucking hate it; the words stick like bile to your tongue, heavy and tacky. 

But the more he struts over with his black satin shirt unbuttoned just a little too low, hair slicked back, standing too close with his sticky-sweet whiskey breath and muttering shit like, "Looking gorgeous tonight, doll," you begin to warm up to it a little. 

"What happened to buttercup?" you teased the first time he tried the new nickname, and he rolled his eyes, chewing on a piece of pink bubblegum wide-mouthed like an adorable a fucking cow as he said, "That was the old me, dollface; I'm not the same person I was yesterday."

It should come as no surprise that Jeongguk is really beginning to grow on you. Now that he works the bar and you see him a lot more often, his attitude is much softer. He still teases you, and at times, it makes your fucking blood boil, but there is a softness to his gaze, especially when his smile stretches wide, that makes your tummy do a backflip whenever his presence lingers. 

All of this is extra dangerous in your current situation because the last thing you need while on sabbatical from both of the men who you continue to be in some unnamed but deeply romantic relationship with, is Jeon Jeongguk making you feel giddy. Try as you might to convince yourself that your feelings are purely a product of your loneliness, you know that is untrue; your feelings for Jeongguk had already begun to sprout, and, as time goes on, they continue to grow. 

You are also finding yourself charmed by Jeongguk's second-in-command, a wisp of a woman with a wide smile and even wider hips named Ahn Hyejin—stage name Hwasa. Hyejin is tiny, barely standing taller than Jeongguk's shoulder with her sharp stiletto heels on. But she commands a room, voice booming and deep when she needs it to be, making all the dancers do exactly as she says. 

Although you are surrounded by beauty in a place like Paradise, nobody steals your attention like Hyejin. Her beautiful diamond-shaped face is always made up with sharp black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. With wide, dark brown eyes that pierce into your soul, all it takes is one pointed smirk, and you are practically melting to her feet. She is always dressed a little revealing, showing enough skin that your eyes continuously trail back to her, just to get another glance.

You understand why men wage wars over love and lust. Hyejin is living proof of why so many sonnets and classic literature pieces are steeped in maniacal desperation over a woman some lonely man saw at a passing glance one time. 

Hyejin was once a dancer, too, but she worked her way into a management position, and all the family men who come to the bar treat her like a sister, including Jeongguk, who only reluctantly calls her Hyejin-noona because she is two years older than him and likes to insist on the nickname. 

She teases Jimin at times, too, being several months older than he is, and she uses it to her advantage when she wants him to do something for her. Jimin always grumbles, rolling his eyes while fulfilling her requests to make the stages and dress rooms better for the dancers, but he does everything out of love for her, and for his dancers, and he is grateful to have her on his management team, giving him advice on how to improve.

Hyejin is, in a word, amazing.

"I see the way you look at her," Jimin teases you tonight the moment she walks in sporting a red one-piece latex bodysuit with long sleeves and a deep v-collar, putting her thighs on glorious display. She wears matching red thigh-high boots, and her long, dark brown hair falls past her shoulders in waves.

Although you turn your head in the direction of Jimin's voice, your eyes stay on Hyejin as she struts over to the bar where Jeongguk is leaning forward on his elbows, getting his attention by draping herself over him and slamming her hip against his side. 

"Hmm?" you finally ask when seeing the two of them standing side-by-side has your cheeks feeling entirely too warm, though it still takes a few stray seconds to pull your gaze to Jimin. 

He has one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and he tongues the inside of his cheek, making you feel even more embarrassed. You are only human…what does he expect from you?

Tonight, Jimin wears silver shimmer on his eyes, with his brown hair styled off his forehead. His black satin button-up is undone to the center of his chest, and it is tucked into very tight, fitted black slacks, styled with black boots. 

Everyone at Paradise is honestly so breathtaking; it is no wonder the place brings in so many high-rollers willing to spend top dollar. Although you are determined to keep Jimin as a friend only—not that he has ever shown signs of wanting more from you—you still find yourself stunned by his beauty.

"Gonna start calling you fawn instead of dove," Jimin teases, and you snicker at the wordplay, unwilling or able to deny you have been fawning over Hyejin since the moment you met her. 

"I need a pet name bingo card," you tease, scrunching your nose to feign annoyance, despite finding it cute. 

You smell a familiar perfume—bright floral and lightly fruity—dance softly in the air before you feel an arm sling around your waist, and you take a fortifying breath before turning to find Hyejin's beaming red smile inches from your face. 

"Hey, dove," she greets in a deep, sultry tone that makes every little hair on your body stand up. 

"Hey, Hyejin," you respond as your cheeks become hot.

"What are you up to tonight?" she asks, giving your waist a squeeze before sliding her arm away but staying just as close. "Practicing any more of your dance moves?"

You giggle and shake your head, feeling nervous about talking to her, of all people, about dancing. Once Jimin let it slip that he was showing you floor moves, both Hyejin and Jeongguk began hounding you for a demonstration. 

"Ahhhh, probably not," you respond, sounding just as awkward as you feel. "I was planning on sitting here tonight and drinking all of Jimin's expensive whiskey for free."

Hyejin pouts and it sends your heart haywire, making you nearly cave. "I want to see your moves," she says in a sweet, baby voice that has you floundering for words—deciding that you would probably do anything to satisfy her. 

"Maybe once I feel more confident," you respond demurely, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

This seems to satisfy her, and she winks as she says, "Looking forward to it," before walking off to the dressing rooms to check on her dancers. 

"Holy shit," you mutter under your breath once she is gone, catching your breath as if you had just run a marathon. 

Jimin scoffs, teasing you as he says, "You are such a whore," and you laugh with him, rubbing your palms over your face. The effect that she has on you must be as obvious to her as it is to everyone else, and the prospect of that makes you nervous.

You have begun to dress a little nicer when you visit Paradise, starting from the first night Hyejn was introduced to you—wearing the more casual designer dresses that Jimin graciously brought from your room at the mansion, and letting him do your hair and makeup. She always gets a little too close when you have your cleavage showing, so you have been displaying it more and more lately.

"She's just so pretty," you complain as if it is an inconvenience, making Jimin laugh anymore. 

"Careful, doll," Jeongguk's voice speaks way too close to your right ear, causing you to gasp and flinch, turning in the direction of the sound. "Keep flirting with her and it might make me jealous."

You scoff and lean away from Jeongguk, who only crowds closer, teasing you with a grin. Recently, Jeongguk has gotten his eyebrow and lip pierced, both on the right side—your left—and he keeps his hair cut short with a sharp, dark undercut. Today, his hair is styled in a swoop over his forehead, and his delicate, floral musky scent is dizzying the closer he gets. 

Since working at Paradise, Jeongguk has begun to dress a little differently, and you find yourself unable to keep from sneaking glances at the slivers of skin he kept hidden behind buttons and t-shirts before. He continues to don his standard all-black attire, but he has also switched to satin, much like Jimin. His shirts are always unbuttoned to the center of his toned chest with no undershirt, and tonight he has several silver chains of various lengths and widths cascading from his neck. 

"I wouldn't dream of it," you tease as you take a step away from Jeongguk and spin on your toes, toward the bar. A sexy R&B song plays loudly, and you swish your hips to the rhythm, knowing without having to glance back that he is watching you. 

And although you tell yourself that you should not enjoy his attention so much—or anyone's attention, for that matter—you revel in the thrill it gives you. Yoongi and Namjoon have both encouraged you to pursue him, anyway…surely they wouldn't mind if you have a little innocent fun. After all, you have no idea when you may see the two of them again.

Nights at Jimin's house are lonely. His mansion is huge and empty, and you prefer not to spend much time there by yourself, which means you tend to be at Paradise from late evening to mid-morning most nights. At first, you thought your sleep schedule would adjust and you would become a night owl just like Jimin and Jeongguk, but as the days wear on, you find yourself exhausted, floating through a realm of half-wakefulness. The drinking likely does not help. 

But what other choice do you have? Despite the deep ache behind your ribs, it feels too soon to return to Namjoon. During a brief phone call shortly after returning from Paris, he mentioned Yoongi was in the countryside at a facility to help him get past the first three weeks of withdrawal. 

From time to time, you find yourself wondering how long it has been since you returned from Paris. It could have been weeks, but it could have been days; you have been disinterested in keeping track, finding the tangible passage of time too painful to confront. You figure the time will come when they are both ready to return to you and not a moment sooner; no use dwelling on it.

On the nights when all you wish to do is let go and forget, you either sit at the center stage and watch the strip shows with a drink in hand, or you head to the upper-level VIP section of the club and dance by the railings. When you are feeling outgoing, you find a group of drunk, friendly women by the back bar to become single-use friends with for the night and dance until bar close. 

Back when you first moved into the mansion, Paradise was apparently a dance club with a brothel beneath, just like Serendipity. But during the weeks leading up to your Paris trip, Jimin had been working on getting the space remodeled—hence why you had not seen him around much, for a while. There still is a dancefloor, but it is rather compact near the back bar; not too many people come to Paradise just to dance. 

The main room now consists of three stages—two smaller ones on either side of the room, and one large stage in the center, all equipped with a spinning poll. Everything is made up of dark wood, black leather, and chrome.

Beneath Paradise, there are still brothel rooms, but it is a very hush-hush affair that not too many patrons seem aware of. A patron can book any of the dancers for a private strip show and lap dance in a back room, but anything explicitly sexual is kept strictly to the lower level, and unless someone knows how to ask for it, they will get removed from the premises in a heartbeat. 

Jimin oversees all Paradise operations, but his main focus is on the activities that take place underground. Jeongguk and Hyejin oversee everything on the main floors, including the strip stages, the back bar and dancefloor, and the VIP bar upstairs, which is more or less just a mezzanine with a bar and booths that cost a pretty penny to use. 

Paradise is your oyster, and you more or less have free reign to do anything you would like.

During the nights when you do not feel like drinking, you go to the dance studio. Sometimes, Jimin goes along to let off some steam, either before he needs to run things at Paradise, or when he has a break in his duties. Other times, you go alone. 

You have been getting a hang of moving your body in ways Jimin has shown you, and in new ways that you are discovering on your own. And although you are nowhere near as flexible or fluid as he is, you are surprised by how your body can bend and move and stretch when you allow it patience and grace to learn how. You get why he, and the other dancers at Paradise, take so much pride in their craft. To the patron, it may just seem like stripping and ass-shaking for some loose notes, but to them, and to you, it truly is an art form.

On nights when you dance, the loneliness is not at all quelled, and you find yourself spacing out often and getting lost in your thoughts. But the more you move and let out all of your pent-up energy, the lighter the loneliness seems to feel. Some nights you are able to relax and feel at peace, rolling and stretching your body without a care in the world. It gives you hope that there truly may be a light at the end of this tunnel, no matter how long it takes for you to reach it.  

"Hey, pretty," a familiar sultry voice purrs, giving you goosebumps. 

It is some unknown night in the middle of the week, and you left a group of bachelorettes by the back bar to step outside and smoke a joint. It is rare that anyone is out here, and you are surprised to find Hyejin, of all people, leaning against the brick wall in this quiet, employees-only escape tucked away in a dark alley. This spot is nestled behind a tall fence, past which is a set of dumpsters and a narrow path out to the main roads.

Hyejin is beautiful as always, wearing a black long-sleeve crop top shirt and high-waisted short shorts, under which black garters stick out and are clipped to black thigh-high socks. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, slicked on the sides, and as she approaches, her mary jane heels clack against the pavement. 

"Hyejin," you mutter, swallowing thickly and abandoning the joint you had forgotten to light, cradling it in your fist. "Didn't realize you would be out here."

Tonight, she wears a nude lipstick rather than the red you have grown accustomed to, and her smile is not quite as warm. As she approaches, you are greeted by her lightly fruity, floral perfume. 

"Stepped out for a breather," she sighs, eyes falling to your hand before they meet your gaze. With a raise of her eyebrows, she adds, "Mind if I help you smoke that?"

Your brain has to reboot before you lift your hand to inspect its contents, and you remember what you came outside for, chuckling as you hold out the joint and lighter to her and say, "Of course. You can hit greens."

Every once in a while, Hyejin will smile shyly. She has a practiced shy smile that she uses on Jimin, Jeongguk, and plenty of her customers—honed to perfection to get just what she wants. But this one is soft and delicate, filling her beautifully golden-tawny-toned cheeks with a deep red blush. 

As she unfurls the soft smile that opens into a toothy grin, she reaches out both slender manicured hands and takes your offering, gently scratching her long, painted-black fingernails against your palms. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you giggle, squeezing your hands shut before opening them again.

"That tickles," you admit when she looks curiously, laughing softly at you.

"You're easily ticklish, hmm?" she mutters with the joint cradled between her lips, then flicks on the lighter, giving her face a beautiful golden glow while igniting the tip and sucking in. 

Hyejin takes a slow inhale followed by a sharp one, then holds her breath and passes the joint to you. When she lets out an exhale, smoke plumes in front of her, and you take a nice, big hit and hold it in, just the same. 

The smoke is warm in your lungs and licks at your senses. As you breathe it out, you feel a small sense of release, letting your shoulders drop and your body relax. 

When you turn to hand the joint back to Hyejin, she is standing much closer, leaning on the sliver of brick wall between you and the closed back door. You instinctively take a step back but rotate so that you are facing her, with barely any space between you. This time, when she smiles, her eyes have the sparkle that you are used to, but there is still an unmissable hint of sadness swirling in their deep umber depths. 

"You know, you can always talk to me if you need someone," she offers unprompted as she takes a hit and hands the joint back. 

You nod and mull it over, unsure where you would even begin. You have no idea what Hyejin knows about your situation, and although you think you can trust her, there is a part of you that is unsure whether you really want to talk about it, especially right now. 

"Thank you," you say before taking a hit and holding it in. Hyejin turns her head to blow the smoke away from your face, then she reaches out one hand and gently rubs her fingertips over your wrist, snaking them into the sleeve of your black denim jacket and sending a tingling warmth into your bloodstream.

You turn your head to exhale, then hold up the joint, asking, "More?"

"I'm good right now," she responds softly, and you move your hand away from her inviting touch to pinch the lit end off onto the ground. In your pocket is a small plastic tube into which you slide the joint, placing a little plastic cap over the end so that its smell does not stick to your clothing, and then you return your arm to its spot and allow her fingers to resume exploring your wrist and hand.

"I appreciate the offer," you try, hearing the way your voice trembles as the weed settles over you and fills you with a heavy-weightless warmth, buzzing in a deep thrum that tenses and relaxes and relaxes and relaxes. Sheepishly, with a giggle, you add, "I don't…really know where to begin."

Hyejin's hand sides into yours, palm against palm, fingers wrapping and holding on tight. 

"That's okay," she responds with a disarming smile. "I just wanted to offer, just in case. I know you have Jimin and Jeongguk, too."

At this, you laugh and sink further against the brick wall, tilting your head to rest against the scratchy, unwelcoming surface. "I do have them…for better or worse."

Hyejin laughs in understanding, then she rolls her eyes and says, "Jeongguk is so possessive; I thought the two of you were dating when you first started coming around."

"Oh?" you respond, a bit surprised by this news. Admittedly, when you first began coming to Paradise, you thought there was something going on between the two of them. It took a couple nights to realize that the way Hyejin hangs off of and pouts at her manager is all an act. "We're…not…" you begin, trailing off, unsure what to say.

"He clearly has feelings for you, regardless," she adds, and you search her face and fidget in place. Hyejin seems genuine and sweet, but you are so used to women in this line of work having ulterior motives and using kindness as a tool to gain information and an upper hand. But that does not seem to be what she is doing, and you let out the breath that had gotten trapped in your lungs and nod, chuckling lightly. 

"Yeah," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm. "He…certainly does."

"Oh my god," Hyejin teases, squeezing your hand until you look at her wide, beaming smile. "You like him too, don't you?"

Try as you might to shake your head and mutter, "No," she mirrors the movement, laughing and practically shouting, "Yes, you definitely do! You are a terrible liar, dove!" 

"It's…complicated," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut with embarrassment. 

A sweet giggle flits through the air like a flutter of butterflies, and you open your eyes to find Hyejin regarding you with the sweetest smile. 

"I won't judge you," she assures, giving your hand another squeeze. "I don't know a lot about your relationship, but Jimin has mentioned you are dating two men, which…honestly, sounds like a dream come true."

Your heart seizes a bit around the word dating, and you swallow thickly and nod, unwilling to go down that path. Nothing has ever been established, despite your confessions of love and the huge, expensive fake-engagement ring that sits in your dark, empty bedroom. Sometimes, if you allow yourself to dwell on it, both the distance and time spent away from them make you worry that things may have an end date that is sooner than you expect. 

But none of this is pertinent enough information to share at a time like this, so you smile as convincingly as you can while saying, "It has its perks."

Hyejin returns your smile and closes the already meager space between the two of you to press a kiss against your cheek. Her mouth is soft and warm, and you let your eyes flutter closed, smiling from the smell of bluebells and apple that fills your senses. As she pulls her lips back, she stays close, cradling your chin with her hand while opening her mouth to continue speaking. However, the back door flies open, cutting off what she was going to say.

The sight of Jeongguk looking around the corner makes you gasp and back up, kicking up a flurry of feelings in your chest. Despite nothing happening between you and Hyejn, this feels like too precarious of a position to be caught in suddenly. Daresay, it may appear somewhat intimate. 

Jeongguk's expression is wide and shocked, but it quickly melts to intrigue. He steps outside and approaches, slinging an arm over both your shoulder and Hyejin's. 

"Well, what have we here?" he asks with a tone that is far too gleeful for anyone's good. 

"I was just telling our dove that I am here if she needs anything, and then I gave her a kiss on the cheek," Hyejin says, turning to Jeongguk and standing on her toes to plant her lips against his jaw. 

Jeongguk looks affronted and gasps as she says, "There, now nobody is left out."

"Listen, I'm not here to break up whatever is going on between my favorite girls." Jeongguk says, gaze on you as he raises an eyebrow and adds, "I just didn't know our doll swings both ways."

Feeling indignant and a little claustrophobic, you shrug away from Jeongguk's arm and give his shoulder a shove. 

"For your information, I go…all ways…" you mutter with a grimace, trailing off because you do not owe him an explanation. Labels for sexual orientation may work for some, but they have never been your thing; you like people for people, and it is as simple as that. Defensive, you add, "But she was just giving me a friendly little kiss on the cheek, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk grunts unconvincingly, then leans in close to say, "But a kiss between friends can easily spiral into something more, can it not?"

With that, Jeongguk takes a step back, leaving you standing shell-shocked and ready to smack him. Jeongguk winks and says, "Hyejin-noona, when you're ready, I have some things I wanna go over with for tonight," then he walks inside. 

Hyejin holds out her elbow, asking, "Shall we?" and you lift a hand to slide against her soft skin, allowing her to lead the way. 

Once you are back inside, the bachelorette group is still at the back bar, drunker and louder than when you left them, and you wave Hyejin and Jeongguk off as you walk over and allow the women to pull you into their chaotic little group for shots. 

You wake up late in the evening with a hangover after hanging with the bachelorette group the night and morning before, taking shot after shot of overly sweet liquor that was far too strong for its own good. It feels like it has been ages since you have felt so awful, and the thought of having even a drop more of alcohol makes your stomach churn.

So, tonight, rather than go to Paradise, you decide to visit the dance studio to practice the floor moves Jimin has been teaching you. Although you are still certain you have no desire to dance at the club, practicing the moves has been cathartic. And it helps you slow down on drinking. Being a lush for a while has definitely been one way to handle your myriad tumultuous emotions, but the hangovers are too frequent, and after what you felt earlier today, you are eager to change your ways.

Dancing also makes you feel sexy. You enjoy watching the way your body can curve and flex, bending and swaying in ways you had never really attempted before. Tonight you alternate between taking moves slowly on the floor, facing away from the mirrors, before attempting to add speed and flow to them while watching your reflection. 

With the cassette mixtape that Jimin has scribbled Whore Mix onto playing through the boombox, you stretch on a dark purple yoga mat that sits in the center of the floor while a sultry voice sings and raps over a beat that begs your hips to move, with the mirrors to your left and the studio door behind you.  

The approaching click-clack of boots against the wooden floor that greets you does not strike you as odd at first; you have grown accustomed to Jimin and his affinity for boots. So you continue practicing without turning to greet him.

Anchored back on your elbows, sitting on the mat on your left hip, with both legs bent, you stretch your right leg straight and fan it out at an angle lifted in front of you. In the same fluid motion, you lift your left leg, creating a v-shape in the air. Then you curl your legs in, trying to perfect the graceful movement that Jimin is so good at, twisting until you are on your right hip.

Only when clapping echoes through the room do you realize that the boots had stopped moving and that the tell-tale frenetic energy Jimin always brings to the studio is missing. You turn with a gasp and find Jeongguk standing in the center of the room, wearing his standard all-black. His button-up is undone enough to show a dip of his chest, as always, with no shirt underneath, and it is tucked into black slacks that are so fitted, the material strains against his thighs when he shifts from one foot to the other. 

"My, my," Jeongguk teases, approaching before squatting beside you. "What have I walked in on?"

Instinctively, you lean away, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. You sit wearing a tight purple sports bra and very tight, very short black athletic shorts, making you self-conscious to be met with such a hungry stare, especially knowing that he had been watching you, just now. 

"Jeongguk," you mutter, having to clear your throat to get more sound out. "What are you doing here?"

"I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him."

You nod, feeling like a fish out of water with how your mouth hangs open. Jeongguk's cologne is stronger than usual and a little different tonight—musky and floral with hints of spice—and you find it incredibly intoxicating. 

"But what I found is far more enticing," Jeongguk continues with a smirk.

Silence falls between you, and you feel your hands prickle with sweat. All you can think about is that kiss in Hong Kong and the chemistry you found in his lips—how delicately he asserted control but never pushed or pulled too much, causing you to unravel in moments. You want to feel that again—want to feel him again—so much that it seems like a bad idea for you to be left alone with him, like this. Flirting in the club, with people around, is one thing, but here, alone, seems dangerous.

Jeongguk stands, and you let out a heavy breath, then swallow a lump, feeling relief wash over you at the thought of him leaving. But then he walks over to the corner, to where some black chairs are shoved together, and he grabs one. Anxiety washes over you when he begins to bring the chair over, boot heels echoing loudly against the floor as he places it beside you and has a seat. He spreads his legs and leans forward, resting his wrists against his knees, tattooed hands so close you could reach out to him. 

With his lips tugged into a sharp grin, he says, "Let me see that move again."

You must look as stunned as you feel, blinking up at him, because he chuckles and raises his pierced eyebrow, clearly amused by your lack of response. 

"Come on, dollface," Jeongguk teases, leaning even closer and dropping his voice far too low for comfort. "Don't be shy."

Even as nervous as you are under his piercing stare, you like the attention he gives you. But continuing what was started between you without Yoongi or Namjoon present feels wrong, and it stirs up guilt and shame, starting in your tummy and working its way to your throat. You want to show Jeongguk your moves and crawl to him, grind your hips over his lap until he calls you noona and begs you for more. But not here. Not like this. 

Luckily, the click-clack that actually belongs to Jimin's boots storms down the hallway and into the room, giving you an out. 

"I told you to meet me in my office," Jimin complains, approaching with his hands on his hips, one balled into a fist that holds onto a manilla envelope. "Why did you come here? To bother her?"

"I must have misread the text," Jeongguk responds, eyes still on you while they glimmer mischievously before turning his attention to Jimin. "Office…dance studio…same thing."

Jimin lunges forward and slaps the envelope against the back of Jeongguk's head, saying, "Not the same thing, and you know it!" before shoving the document into his hands. 

You watch somewhat stunned as Jeongguk's mouth falls agape, and he chuckles. Then, as he begins to open and read through the contents of the folder, you take your leave, rolling the yoga mat in your hands as you walk away. Draped over one of the black chairs in the corner is a black hoodie and sweatpants, and you pad over, set the mat onto a chair, and slink into the garments, keeping your hair tucked into the shirt and the hood pulled low over your face.

"Gonna head back to work," Jimin says in a flurry, exiting just as fast as he arrived with the folder in his hand. "Come to the club if you want. Or call me if you need anything."

With a nod, you turn on your toes and begin for the door.

"And just where are you going?" Jeongguk asks, stopping you in your tracks and pushing a sigh from your lungs.

"Home," you say before your lips flounder, and you correct yourself, heavy-blinking. "Jimin's place."

With a hum, Jeongguk stands and says, "I'll drive you," picking up his chair to bring it back to where he got it from. 

Although you have made no plans for a ride, you know that Hoseok was at the club earlier, and you had planned to call and see if he was around. Jeongguk giving you a ride would definitely be convenient, but is that something you want right now?

"You have work to do," you insist, shaking your head and feeling nervous at the thought of being in a vehicle alone with him. 

But Jeongguk sets the chair down, takes you by the back of the arm, and begins to usher you rather forcefully out the door. As your sneaker heels dig into the wooden floor, rubber squeaking with each step he makes you take, you feel petulant, and you are dragged to the dark hallway before you manage to yank yourself out of his grasp and take an uneasy step back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you ask, feeling anger rise and fighting the urge to slap him. 

"What?" Jeongguk says through a chuckle, looming over you while he steps forward, closing the distance with each step you take backward until you hit the wall. "You're dancing like a whore now, so I figured you wanted to be treated like one, too."

Although you feel anger buzzing through you like a livewire, sending every nerve on high alert, more than anything, you feel deflated. Despite Jimin jokingly using that word to tease you, there is something about the way Jeongguk says it—something almost sardonic and mocking in his tone, met with how forcefully he dragged you out of the room. It settles like bile in your guts and makes you feel extremely uncomfortable. 

But, rather than put up a fight and challenge him, you storm away, shoving past his weak attempt to hold you back as you stomp toward the door. 

"Hey," Jeongguk calls, heavy footsteps trailing behind you. "What's the matter with you?"

Unable to hold in your rage, you spin on your toes, shoving your palms against Jeongguk's chest as you say, "What's the matter with you?"

Jeongguk hardly flinches, and when you step forward to push him again, he grips onto your wrists and holds you still, tugging you close to him but not in a way that is meant to be rough or suggestive. He almost looks worried, brows knit as he studies your face. 

"Hey, hey," he mutters, holding onto you just tight enough that you have no choice but to stop lashing out. 

Somehow it works. Maybe because you are exhausted, or maybe it is the floral, musky scent of his cologne—or a combination of things wrecking your tiny sense of sanity—but you hold still and let Jeongguk softly shush you while rubbing his thumbs over the knobby joints in your wrists.

"I don't like it when you talk about women that way," you say, feeling a swell of sadness fill your chest. You are aware that this is likely a trauma response to the way men have treated you in the past, but you need to at least attempt to establish a boundary. "I know we joke about it at the club, but the way you said it, I—" You close your eyes and shake your head. 

"When have I ever talked about women that way?" Jeongguk asks, voice sounding more defensive than apologetic. "Look, I was joking. I'm sorry."

"Just don't do it, okay?" you insist, yanking your hands away until Jeongguk relents and folding your arms over your chest. "I was a whore before, Jeongguk. Is it so terrible? Do you really need to make it sound so demeaning? Yoongi's mother was a whore, too, you know."

Jeongguk's face pales, and he appears angry for a split moment, but you do not attempt to argue. Perhaps it is out of pocket to bring up Yoongi's dead mother, but you were a part of the honey bees who came after her; you belonged to the same organization, come hell and high water. 

"You're right," he says, taking a step back and sliding his hands into his pockets. "I don't look down on sex workers, and I shouldn't talk as if I do. I'm sorry I offended you. I know that we make jokes, and I guess I got carried away. I didn't consider how even playful actions might bring up bad memories for you, and I get what that's like."

Surprised and unsure what to say, you rock on your feet a little before settling on, "Okay."

"My mother was a whore too," Jeongguk adds, stepping forward slowly. "I never held it against her. Even when it got her killed, I never thought badly about her."

There it is, once more—the taste of guilt.

"Jeongguk," you say, taking a step forward, but he holds up his hand and shakes his head. 

"I offended you. I'm the one apologizing. Let me make it up to you by driving you home?"

You nod, conceding. "Alright."

The walk to Jeongguk's black sports car is quiet in a way that feels charged and awkward, but as you settle in, you begin to relax. Silence continues to hang during most of the drive, and all the while, you think of Yoongi. As you stare out at the city lights that fade the further you get from the city, you wonder how he must be doing and whether he will return home soon. 

"Did you supply the heroin?" you ask without thinking, staring out at the dark roads past the city line. 

As silence stretches, part of you worries that Jeongguk might be offended by your question, and you keep your eyes on the shadowed hints of trees, refusing to acknowledge the expression on his face. 

Finally, Jeongguk mutters a simple, "No," and you allow yourself to regard him. 

Jeongguk's jaw is tense, and he stares ahead at the road, tonguing on the inside of his mouth while both hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

"I didn't think you did," you respond softly, watching as his pierced eyebrow raises. "I don't know why I felt compelled to ask."

Jeongguk's gaze flicks to you, then back on the road. "Because you overheard my conversation with Namjoon that morning outside your bedroom. And because I was the one in charge of the drug operations."

"Yeah," you respond with a shrug. "But I don't think you would be that careless."

With a hum from Jeongguk, silence settles once more. You relax back in your seat, watching the road curve and become a little hilly before evening out. By now, you are familiar with this stretch, anticipating the sight of the property to come into view very soon. 

Whenever you pass the mansion these days, it is dark and quiet. If not for the outdoor security lights, it would be nothing more than a looming shadow—a silhouetted remnant of lives at a standstill. Namjoon must sleep in his own home, and from time to time, you consider walking down the dirt and gravel path to his property to see him.

But everything feels off balance in a way that you struggle to reconcile, and you feel like you need a little more time. You fish your phone from your hoodie pocket and check his Instagram feed, sad to see he has not posted anything to his story. 

Namjoon likes to post his workout routines, what he is listening to, and shots from trips to museums. Lately, though, he barely shares anything, making the lack of his presence feel heavier. You nearly ask Jeongguk to drop you off at his place, but you cannot seem to open your mouth to get the words out.

Instead, you text him. 

You: It's hard to keep tabs on you when you don't post story updates.

The message feels stupid, and you chew on the inside of your mouth once you hit send, staring at the screen and hoping that when he sees it, he does not find it annoying. Is there a chance of him being offended?

Three dots appear and disappear, over and over, making the anxiety in your tummy frantically build and crash like a wave pool that has just been switched on. But then he sends a simple little sentence that stirs both immense joy and deep, profound sadness— 

Namjoon: I miss you too, sweetheart.

—and you stare down at it until your vision blurs with tears.

As you open your mouth to ask to be taken to Namjoon's house, the dots appear and disappear again, and rather than speak, you clear your throat and wait for him to say more. 

"What is it?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn your head to him, confused at first, then realize he may have taken the sound as a feeble attempt at starting a conversation. 

"Oh," you respond, "Uh, nothing."

"Alright," Jeongguk says simply as he begins to turn into Jimin's driveway, waiting as the metal gate opens and allows you entrance.

As you pull into the drive, listening to the gate close behind you, the urge to cry becomes more difficult to tamp down. You swallow thickly, blinking away tears as Jeongguk stalls in front of the door. 

"You good?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn to regard him, but as soon as you open your mouth to tell him you are fine, the sounds die in your throat, and you have to swallow everything back down again. 

"Th-thanks for the ride," you manage to mutter as you get out of the vehicle and run to Jimin's door, punching in an eight-digit code and holding your eyes open as wide as you can manage for the retina scan. 

Once inside the dark, empty mansion, you sink against the cold, wooden door, feeling your chest heave with emotion so deep, you become nauseated. Gripped in your fist, your cell phone vibrates, and you lift the device in a shaking hand, checking the notification—

Namjoon: I miss your voice. And your smile. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

—which sends you crashing over the edge as tears pour and your voice comes out in a loud, terrible sob.

Your heart pounds as you cry, feeling the crushing weight of how deeply you miss Namjoon. Although each breath that enters and exits your lungs is a storm, rattling and shaking you to the core, you sniffle and hold your phone tightly in both hands as you place a call. It is late, but Namjoon is responding to texts, so perhaps he is free to talk. 

Namjoon picks up on the first ring, and when his deep, surprised voice says, "Hey, sweetheart," you sob even harder. How is it that something so tiny could make his absence feel so much heavier?

"Hey," Namjoon says, sweet and alert, "are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm okay," you cry, punctuated by a sniffle. "I'm at Jimin's. Everything is fine."

"Everything does not sound fine," Namjoon insists, and you smile softly at his concern, taking in a deep breath. "Do you need something? Can I…can I do anything?"

Namjoon still owes you an explanation, and it is not something you will easily let slip. But you are certain that you cannot continue to keep him at a distance, even if it means putting the much-needed conversation on the back burner. Although life with Jimin has been fun and a little exciting, the loneliness you feel from being away from Namjoon and Yoongi has a tendency to become excruciating. 

"Can I see you?" you ask weakly, like a child who is afraid of being scolded. 

The soft chuckle that proceeds, "Of course, you can," warms your heart, and you close your eyes and smile wide, clutching your phone tightly to your ear. "Give me ten minutes? I'll be right there."

With a wet, disgusting sniffle, you say, "Okay," and rub the back of your hand against your nose. 

"I'll be there soon," Namjoon says as he ends the call, and you nod to nobody as you drop your phone down and clench it to your heart. 

It takes effort, but you peel yourself from the floor and kick off your shoes before heading up the stairs to your borrowed bedroom, squinting as you switch on the light. The room is similar to your room in Yoongi's mansion, but the bedding and curtains are pinks and oranges—a permanent sunrise. 

As you cross the room to the walk-in closet, you pull off the joggers and athleticwear from earlier and find a cute, soft pair of pink sleep shorts and a matching, loose pink tee. Then you run into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Even though you did not drink anything tonight, you want to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruise, and you need to be minty fresh. 

By the time you are rinsing your mouth and wiping your chin off, you hear a loud knocking on the front door, surprised that ten minutes could have passed so quickly. You run out of the ensuite and find your phone on the bed to shoot off a message before heading down to let Namjoon in.

You: One minute!

Although the rest of the mansion is dark, Jimin also has security lights on outside, and they shine through the windows enough to cast a silver glow over the small mezzanine and down the steps. You scurry down quickly, feet carrying you light and fast, and when you get to the front door and fling it open, you hardly have a chance to take in the sight of Namjoon before he is crossing the threshold and lifting you into his arms. 

A sob quakes through you as you wrap your arms and legs around him, burying your face into his neck. He smells musky—a bit sweaty—but the bright cologne with gentle floral hints you are used to are present. Namjoon closes the front door, haphazardly steps from his shoes, and makes his way to the stairs, stepping slowly as he holds you tight. If you are not mistaken, it feels like his breathing shutters through him, and you wonder if he may also be crying. 

"I'm sorry," you find yourself muttering when the silence stretches on long and oppressive. 

Namjoon squeezes you harder. 

"No," he says softly, voice trembling, "sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I made you cry," you sob, feeling guilt and sadness fill your lungs until it hurts to breathe.

Namjoon chuckles and sniffles, reaching the top landing of the stairs and turning to the right, toward the only light in the home that is on. He says, "Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid," and your heart goes wild behind your ribs, bursting with affection. 

"I've missed you so much," you whimper against Namjoon's skin, and when he leans forward and attempts to put you down onto the bed, you tighten your limbs, clinging to him like a koala.

"Let me set you down so we can get comfortable," Namjoon suggests, and you shake your head, groaning as you hold on tighter. He sighs, and tries, "Come on, I want to see you. I want to kiss you."

Once his attempts are futile, Namjoon gets onto his knees on the bed and bends until you are lying on your back with him towering over you. You finally move your head away from his neck and heavy-blink as you meet his eyes—which are bloodshot and blinking back tears.

"I've missed you too," Namjoon says as he kisses you, soft and sweet and warm. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened. I should have told you about everything, but I was scared to."

Namjoon's kisses are salty and wet, and he trembles above you, gripping the blanket tightly in his fists on either side of your head. Finally, you concede to his need to get comfortable, and you press against his chest, rubbing your fingers over soft black cotton. 

"Hey, lay down," you say softly, pushing a little harder. "You were right, let's get comfortable."

Namjoon sighs through his tears and gets up onto his knees, then crawls over to the pillows and makes a feeble attempt at moving the bright pink and orange floral comforter away. You sit up and help him, then run to the door to close it before adjusting the dimmer switch, lowering the lights just enough so that you can still see him. 

When you turn back to the bed, Namjoon has figured out the comforter, which is bunched up at the end of the against his feet, and he is sitting against the wooden headboard with his hands in his lap, watching you with a soft expression while tear tracks shimmer against his cheeks. He wears a black tee and black joggers, with his legs extended out but one leg bent slightly at the knee, and he is breathtaking—just as you remembered him. Maybe even more so. 

He has gotten a haircut recently, just above his ears, making him look younger. And it is darker; a more natural color. Some time ago—maybe a few days, or maybe a week—Namjoon posted a mirror selfie of the cut, obstructed mostly by his phone, and you are happy to finally see it in person. 

As you get onto the bed, on your knees, Namjoon reaches for you, pulling against the backs of your thighs until you have no choice but to straddle his lap, giggling at his insistence. You settle and drape your wrists over his shoulders to rub your fingertips over the short hairs on his nape while Namjoon's smile oscillates between joy and sadness. 

"I want to tell you I'm sorry," you begin, without giving him a chance to speak. You have been thinking about this every sober waking moment of however much time has passed—and some intoxicated moments, as well—and you feel it is necessary to get it off your chest. Emotions rise as you gather your thoughts, and your next exhale comes out shaky. "I was angry in Paris, but the things I said to you and Yoongi did not come from the heart. I was hurt, and I still am, but…I don't understand addiction. I have no idea what Yoongi must be going through, and I—"

You choke on a sob suddenly as a flash of Yoongi's face comes into view. The hurt way in which he stared ahead, straight through you, while you screamed and cried and demanded to be taken home.

Gently, Namjoon rubs his hands up and down your back, covering you in comforting warmth. His smile is sad, but he does his best to show that he is listening and that he is receptive to what you need to say.

"I just feel so awful," you continue as tears fall. You are so tired of crying and hurting, but it is a necessary step in healing, and you do your best to let it quake through you and settle into your bones. "I love Yoongi. I don't want him to be in pain."

"He knows," Namjoon finally says, but you screw your eyes closed and shake your head. He may have an idea of what you are going through, but he needs to hear from you that you are sorry. You need to tell him, yourself. "Yoongi using again was a bit of a surprise to all of us. Although it is something I always fear may happen again, I really had no idea it would happen like that, especially on vacation."

"When is he coming home?" you ask, feeling hopeful.

"Less than a week," Namjoon responds, smiling sweetly as he lifts his hands to thumb away the tears on your cheeks. "I have cleaned out the mansion, and Jeongguk has made sure the team taking over his responsibilities knows that heroin and other opioids are off limits. Jeongguk was already avoiding selling either in the first place, but he has reiterated that fact, to be on the safe side."

"That day, outside my room, you said there was a package with what looked like heroin," you say, watching as Namjoon's face screws up with worry. You grimace, adding, "I'm sorry I was eavesdropping."

"That…I still don't have all the details ironed out," Namjoon responds sullenly, "but I am certain that Jeongguk had nothing to do with it. Yoongi admitted that he had sent for the package on his own, and it arrived from overseas with a bunch of tailored suits. I don't know how he got a connect in Italy, but I really shouldn't be surprised; Yoongi knows people everywhere."

You nod somewhat listlessly, waiting for the crucial detail where Namjoon tells you he threatened the Italian guy, or found some way to rough him up—whatever the case—in order to keep him from sending Yoongi junk again. But when he does not continue, worry and sadness sink into your tummy like a brick. 

"So…" you begin, heavy-blinking and feeling at a loss for words before settling on, "...how do we make sure he doesn't use again?"

Although Namjoon continues to smile, his eyebrows pinch sympathetically, and he returns to rubbing your back. 

"We just love and support him," he offers, which feels both gigantic and minuscule, all things considered. "We continue to be there for him and…hope that it is enough."

"That's it, huh," you sigh, defeated. 

"Yeah."

Silence hangs, and you let your vision blur, attempting to sort out what you could possibly do. What if loving Yoongi is not enough? What if the pressures of his lifestyle only continue to press and press on him until he sinks another needle into his vein, desperate for relief?

"I wish he could just…not do this anymore," you mutter, blinking Namjoon back into focus. "Maybe having all this power and responsibility is too much."

With a sad chuckle, Namjoon nods. "Yeah, well…the only way out of a life like his is death."

Although that is not the response you want, it is the one you expect, and you lean heavily into Namjoon, accepting it for now. There is not much more to say until Yoongi is back. 

"Can we sleep?" you ask, feeling your body become weighted down with exhaustion and warm with a comfort you have not felt in what has seemed like eons. 

"I would love to sleep," Namjoon responds sweetly, releasing you from his hold as you slide down to the bed and begin to reach for the comforter. 

Namjoon gets out of bed to turn off the light, and for a split moment, in the cold, crushing dark, you begin to feel anxiety rush over you. In the cold, crushing dark, you are alone, alone, alone, isolated and heavy and so terribly scared. But then the bed dips, and warmth slides into place beside you. Limbs settle with a familiar weight, and suddenly, the darkness feels and smells like home.

"I love you," you tell the darkness, gasping when lips graze your cheek, your nose, and finally, your mouth. 

"I love you, too," the darkness tells you sweetly as you begin to drift to sleep.

Tonight, you did not get to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruised, but you feel satisfied with the fact that you were able to lighten the burden of heavy sadness just a little. And, in a matter of days, when you have the same conversation with Yoongi, it may not go the same way, but at least the three of you can continue to take steps in the right direction, and that allows you to sink into sleep with a smile on your face. 

When you wake up alone, your first instinct is to panic. You sit up with a start and check for any sign of Namjoon, but the ensuite door is wide open, and there is no sound coming from inside. The spot where he had slept is cold, and you begin to worry that it was all a dream and that he was never here at all. 

Frantically, you begin to search for your phone, which is not on your bedside table where you usually keep it, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry take over. What happened last night, and why is there no trace of him to be found?

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and run over the events of the night. You came in and changed, then you messaged Namjoon to let him know you were going down to let him in. Vaguely, you remember tossing your phone to the bed, and you begin yanking at your comforter, desperate to find it. 

Your phone must have been wrapped up in the bedding, because after only a moment of tussling and searching, you hear a nice loud thunk against the floor, at the foot of the bed. You let out an exasperated sigh and crawl to the edge, draping your body over the end as you reach and search for the device that has managed to find its way just under the bed frame. 

As soon as it is in your hand, you turn on the screen, eager to find evidence of Namjoon's existence, with your torso suspended in air. As soon as you see a notification from two hours ago, you smile and wiggle backward into a seated position to properly read it.

Namjoon: Hey, sweetheart, I'm so sorry I left while you were still asleep. I tried to wake you, but you were out cold. I'll be visiting Yoongi this afternoon. If you want to come along and you see this before 2 PM, let me know. Otherwise, I hope to talk to you soon. Thank you for letting me in this morning; I slept better than I have in weeks. I love you. 

Although affection blooms brightly in your chest, you feel sadness squeeze you tight, like an old friend. You do want to see Yoongi. You want to see him so badly, it hurts. But you are not sure you want to see him before he comes home. Wherever he is staying, and whatever state he may be in…you are not sure that you are prepared for that. 

It is only 1:45 PM, so you decide to call Namjoon. Not only are you eager to hear his voice once more, but you are not eager to voice what is in your heart over text. 

He picks up on the second ring, sounding a bit winded when he says, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Namjoon," you respond brightly, smiling widely. "Hey, I just woke up and saw your message."

"Ah," he responds, breathing heavily, "what time is it?" After a pause, he shouts, "Oh, shit, Gguk, I gotta go!" 

You laugh as you hear them chatter lowly, then say their goodbyes, imagining how adorable Namjoon becomes when he is frantic—eyes wide and worried while he flails his muscular limbs around somewhat aimlessly. 

"Gguek and I were working out," Namjoon says as you hear the sound of a door open and shut. "Lost track of time."

You smile, nibbling your lip. "Good thing I called."

"Good thing, indeed. So, did you—"

You don't mean to cut Namjoon off, but there is enough of a break between his statements, that you say, "Listen, Namjoon, I'm—" then halt, realizing you had spoken over him.

"Go on," Namjoon urges, and you close your eyes, listening to the sounds of his breathing, of birds singing around him, and of feet walking somewhat frantically down the dirt and gravel path between mansions. 

"I don't think I can go," you finally say, feeling meek and embarrassed as your voice drops and comes out with a tremble. "It's just…I don't know what to expect, and it…it scares me."

Namjoon says nothing for a few moments, and it makes you worry. But then you hear him keying in the passcode to his home and let yourself breathe. He is probably too stressed to be multitasking while in a rush. 

"Can I call you back? Or maybe we can talk about this later?" Namjoon finally asks, and you let out an even deeper sigh in relief. "I don't blame you at all for not wanting to come, but it feels like there is more you need to get off your chest. I have to take the fastest shower of my life, though, so that I can leave soon."

"Yeah, no…yeah. That's…" you stammer, squeezing your eyes closed and allowing yourself to smile while hot tears run from your eyes. Namjoon is so kind and understanding—so caring and giving. Affection burns for him, and you want to hug him so tight and never let him go. "If you want to tell Yoongi that we talked, I think it might make things easier for me later, but do whatever feels right…I don't know."

"I'll tell him what we discussed," Namjoon responds breathily as feet storm up a flight of stairs. "I know it'll make him happy to hear how you are doing, and how you have been handling things. I'm bringing him home in four days, so we can all sit down whenever you feel ready."

Four days is not soon enough, yet it feels like no time at all. Looming and terrifying, yet promising. 

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, Namjoon."

When Namjoon says, "I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you for calling," your heart squeezes, and more tears fall, cascading like tiny waterfalls. 

"I love you, Namjoon. Drive safe."

"Will do. Bye."

You mutter, "Bye," but your finger is already pressing the end call button, giving Namjoon all the time and space he needs to get ready. And then you hug your phone tight to your chest and continue to cry. 

Somehow, the happy tears feel thicker and hotter than sad tears—more present and urgent. If Yoongi comes back in four days, that means it has been just over two weeks in Jimin's home. You heavy-blink in an attempt to conceptualize the time, feeling ashamed by how little of it you remember. Briefly, you worry that you may have imposed, but Jimin has never so much as hinted at that fact, so you allow yourself to let the idea go.

It is difficult, at times, to accept the many ways in which you are loved. It feels strange to look back on how you ended up tangled in this web, with these men. Part of you wishes you and Yoongi could start over—meet organically and fall together not because of proximity and a need to cure a deep, aching loneliness that had built over years, but because you simply want to.

But could you simply want to fall in love with the head of a crime syndicate? No, you think. Probably not. 

Still, how do you explain that to someone who asks? I was kidnapped as collateral, but we fell in love feels like a story not too many people would understand. Probably, the average person would ask if you were alright and attempt to help you find refuge. Probably, they would be in their right mind to do so. 

The next three days drag. Knowing that you will see Yoongi and Namjoon again soon has you a little on edge, but not necessarily in a bad way. Your dancing suffers for it, and you find your movements too stiff, too off-beat; your head and your heart are clouded, and you cannot seem to get your body to do anything. Still, you try. Wasting away drinking at Paradise does not feel like the best way to spend your lonely nights, but you want to wait for Yoongi's return before spending too much time with Namjoon. 

Although the three of you have different bonds and dynamics, you almost feel guilty at the thought of hogging Namjoon to yourself while Yoongi is out healing in the countryside. Despite knowing he would tell you not to worry—to be with Namjoon and keep him company. 

And, part of you thinks of this time as getting your last moments in with Jimin before moving out of his space. You have not voiced it, but you have been going out of your way to spend just a little more time with him after work, before the two of you crash for the morning and sleep, curled up on the couch with whichever anime he feels like playing in the background—currently, Chainsaw Man. 

Jimin is phenomenal company, and you have really enjoyed following him around the house while he cooks, practices impromptu dance moves around furniture, and talks about nothing and everything. Even in quiet, still moments eating ice cream in the glow of the television, you feel the bond that has formed quickly and effortlessly, thankful to have a friend and ally on your side.

Despite the budding friendship, Jimin remains a somewhat secretive person. You have learned that his upbringing was privileged and full of wealth, but his parents were not kind about his desire to chase his own dreams instead of taking over the family business, and they quickly cut him off when he went to school for contemporary dance. It took no time at all for Jimin to wind up houseless, using his beauty to sleep with wealthy men and women for a meal and a warm bed. 

When Yoongi's mother found Jimin on the streets, she took him in with the promise of a better life, but how he came to replace her is unknown. How long Jimin spent on the streets, the kinds of things he saw in that time…all of those details, he hides behind a bright, practiced smile, only given away by the sadness that pours from his beautiful, round eyes. 

"I see myself in you, dove," Jimin says often, usually accompanied by a side hug or a kiss on the cheek. 

And at first, it made you feel strange. Jimin has come so far that maybe, you had originally thought, he sees you as a pet project; someone who needs to be fixed and turned into something beautiful. But now, you know that is not true. You know that Jimin sees persistence and survival; he sees someone imperfect but caring who just needs a little push to understand and figure things out, at times. 

Everything he has, he gained with persistence and survival; nothing was handed to him. Yoongi and his men, and possibly Yoongi's mother, taught Jimin the skills he knows today, that make him who he is. None of them became this successful alone; all seven of them play a crucial role. Eight, now, with you. 

You feel sentimental tonight when you lean against the bar cradling a glass of whiskey that you have been nursing for the last hour. Tomorrow, Yoongi returns home, and although it has not been voiced aloud, you can tell that the prospect has Jimin and Jeongguk in a better mood. You even spot Seokjin, Hoseok, and Taehyung coming in and out of Paradise, and they all seem chipper. 

Jimin is done up with pink and silver stage makeup, with his eyes and lips bright and shining. He wears his standard black satin top tucked into tight, leather black jeans, and tonight, he has a thick black rhinestone choker around his neck. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is pattern-clashing in a way that is both alluring and confusing. As standalone items, his silk, long-sleeve, plunging neckline leopard print shirt, and tight silver and blue floral lurex pants are solid choices. The shirt's neck falls nearly to his navel, showing beautiful topography of his chest—dips and hills of muscle and golden-tanned skin, accentuated by several mismatched gold necklaces; and the pants shine brightly in every light that dares grace his figure, drawing the eye to his muscular thighs and perky, round ass. But they look so strange and mismatched together, you cannot help but question what on earth he was thinking. 

"You sure have a staring problem, tonight," Jeongguk chides as he walks by, sending an inviting wink that makes you laugh far too boisterously.

"Just trying to figure out what you have going on, here," you respond with an incredulous smirk. "Did you get dressed in the dark, Gguk?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk responds, "Both items are Dolce and Gabbana, but okay."

And, without missing a beat, you say, "Pretty sure Dolce and Gabbana also produce plain clothes that would match better than this. Your black satin shirts would look really good with those pants, and…well, anything else would look good with that shirt."

"I don't expect you to understand fashion," Jeongguk teases, raking his eyes over your form as he takes a step closer. 

"Black, Jeongguk," you say, chin tilted high. "You have a closet full of black that would look phenomenal with both pieces."

With Jeongguk stepping into your personal space, that damned cologne hits you, and you begin to lose your composure. He really is suitable for smelling like a bouquet of wildflowers, especially with the spicy musk underneath; it is perfectly him. 

"I don't expect someone in boring Vuitton rags to appreciate the nuance," Jeongguk teases, voice dropping lower as he towers before you. 

"This dress costs as much as both that shirt and those pants combined," you bicker more quietly than before. The dress you wear tonight is certainly less flattering or flashy than what he wears—a Louis Vuitton brown and black knit mini dress with glitter thread mottling throughout. It has a square, rolled neckline and thin straps, but it hugs your curves nicely, falling mid-thigh. You raise your eyebrow to add, "Boss Min happens to like the way I look in Vuitton rags."

At the mention of Yoongi, Jeongguk softens, and you know you have won this round. Jeongguk scoffs, then slams back the rest of his drink, spinning on his shiny black leather boots before stomping off to where Hyejin and the dancers are congregated behind the main stage, going over something pertaining to the newly installed dance cages on either side of the bar, judging by how she points to them. 

You watch as Jeongguk walks away, allowing your gaze to linger on how those gaudy, silver-blue pants shimmer when they hug his ass, thanking your lucky stars that his silly fashion sense has, at the very least, provided you with a good show. 

When you turn back to the bar, you drink the rest of your whiskey and ask for another. The night is still young; the club has barely just opened and only a few patrons linger during the hours before the dancers take to the stages, but you have a feeling you are going to need to at least have a steady buzz to handle whatever bullshit Jeongguk is on. 

Two hours into your night, you are proven correct during a very flirty conversation with Hyejin about the dance cages—about how she thinks you should make your Paradise debut in one, asking if you would ever let her handcuff you to the bars—when the bartender informs you that the boss would like to see you in his office. 

Jimin seldom calls you to his office, but he is the only one who properly has one, so you head toward the back of the main room, past a security guard, and into a hallway that leads to Jimin's office, the dressing rooms for the dancers, and a meeting room that Hyejin and Jeongguk use when they need to. 

As you make your way to the door, you can hear the sounds of dancers chattering and laughing coming down the hall, and you assume that Jeongguk must be giving them their nightly pep talk in one of the dressing rooms. You knock twice on the office door, then try the handle. To your surprise, when you enter, the room is empty. 

Jimin has allowed you in his space alone plenty of times, so you make your way to have a seat in the leather armchair just in front of his desk. You decide to check your notifications while you wait and pull your phone from a small black purse that is slung over your shoulder.

The door opens and closes behind you, so you put the phone away before you have a chance to turn the screen on. And, instinctively, you stand to greet Jimin, surprised when you turn to find Jeongguk closing in, fast. 

Before you have a chance to speak, Jeongguk has the armchair shoved away, caging you against Jimin's desk, leaning close and low with both of his hands gripping the wooden surface. You practically sit against the edge, doing your best to lean back and away from Jeongguk, but he is a persistent, towering presence, and he wastes no time dragging his lips over your neck, just below your ear, sending a rush of arousal tingling through you at the touch. The scent of his cologne has your senses simultaneously dulled and on high alert.

"Jeongguk," you gasp, attempting to twist away but finding you do not want him to stop. "We can't—"

"I know," Jeongguk responds, voice deep and silky, lips dipping lower, dragging across your throat and leaving only the faintest hint of a spit trail. "Just want to tease you a little; make you squirm."

"Why?" you breathe, leaning back to create more space. 

When Jeongguk does not move, you lift your hands and press against his chest, attempting to push him back, but your palms slide on the silk shirt, and you wind up rubbing over his nipples, feeling metal under the drag of skin, causing Jeongguk to hiss as you gasp. Arousal builds and builds, and you squeeze your tights together, desperate to stave off the effect he has on you; you are, admittedly, touch-starved and somewhat feral. 

"I know you feel it, too," Jeongguk practically groans, still leaning way too close, voice spoken beside your ear. "We have undeniable chemistry."

"Of course I feel it," you respond, closing your eyes in an attempt to get your bearings while your heart pounds dizzyingly fast. 

Jeongguk asks, "Do you know how fucking hard it is to keep my hands off you?" in a tone that almost seems steeped in pain.

"Yes," you mutter softly, nodding shallowly. "I think I do."

With a sigh, Jeongguk finally takes a step back, but he stays close enough that you have to crane your neck; there is no room for you to stand away from the desk. The two of you stare at one another, and then Jeongguk scoffs and shakes his head. 

"Seeing you around so much has been…god, you drive me insane."

You chuckle, though you feel somewhat awkward being faced with his admission. Although, truth be told, being in Jeongguk's proximity so much during the last few weeks has also made you want to see him more and more; you know that, once you return to your normal life, you will come to miss him a lot. Or, perhaps, you can continue spending time at Paradise; there is nothing saying you cannot. 

"Last night, when I dropped you off," Jeongguk says, reaching up to gently cradle your chin in his hand, surprising you with his shift in demeanor, "were you crying?"

Although you glance away to respond, shyness rises, you nod slightly and say, "Yeah."

"Was it something I said?"

Quickly, you nod and return your gaze to Jeongguk, who looks genuinely concerned. "No. I was crying because I was missing Yoongi and Namjoon."

Jeongguk hums, drops his hand away, and takes a step back. 

Suddenly, the silence feels heavy, and you struggle to identify his reaction. He very clearly knows your involvement with both men, so why tense up at the mention of them?

"What's the matter?" you ask, unwilling to let anything weird hang between you. 

Jeongguk shrugs, but his eyes are on the floor, and it is clear that something is bothering him. 

"Jeongguk," you insist.

He sighs, and, without looking at you, says, "It just sucks that when things become normal again with you guys…I just…it's been nice to see you here."

"Ah," you respond. And you get it; it has been great to be around here and see him, Jimin, and Hyejin regularly. 

"But Yoongi will return and demand all your attention—" Jeongguk practically snarls, and you tut your tongue at him, staring incredulously as he balks at the interruption. 

"Yoongi does not demand anything from me," you say, standing up straight now that there is some space between the two of you. You feel defensive, but you can understand where Jeongguk is coming from; you really have not had any independence since moving into the mansion, but part of that is not having any direction or much desire to venture out, finding comfort and safety behind the familiarity of those walls. "Honestly, I have been loving it here. It's nice to leave the house for no occasion and see other people. I consider Hyejin and Jimin friends, and it has been so great having friends again. I don't want to suddenly stop seeing them. Or you."

"Won't you have your hands full with both of your boyfriends?" Jeongguk teases, and you are glad to see his mood has at least somewhat lightened; his smile has returned, even if his gaze remains sad. 

"Oh they definitely know how to keep my hands full," you respond with a wink, watching as Jeongguk's eyes and mouth widen comically. "But it is also nice having some space. Although I hate how all of this came about, I think taking a step back and allowing myself to really miss them and think about the many facets of our relationship has been important. I needed it."

"So I might actually see you from time to time?" Jeongguk asks, stepping close once more, seeming hopeful. It still amuses you when Jeongguk is all soft edges after so much time spent bickering with one another. 

This time, you step in close and rub your palms over his chest, making sure to drag your hands over his pierced nipples, smiling when he shivers beneath your touch. 

"We still have to finish what we started in Hong Kong," you say, voice dropped low and intentionally sultry. "I just haven't wanted to do anything without the others present…we haven't really discussed that, and I would feel too guilty leaving them out."

"I understand," Jeongguk responds, leaning into your touch and surprising you with a very soft, very chaste kiss on the lips before he mutters, "Taehyung will fucking kill me if we do anything without him."

Warmth floods your cheeks, and you drop your hands while taking a step back. Even after such a tiny taste, the urge to kiss Jeongguk is too great to stay in such close proximity. 

"We're going to have an entire audience, huh?" you ask, feeling more turned on by the prospect than shy.

Jeongguk chuckles and says, "Sounds like we will."

It almost feels surreal to discuss the topic of you and Jeongguk having sex so openly. Although you have had enough whiskey to give you a steady buzz, you are still clear-headed enough to spiral just a little over the thought of his body, and having it all to yourself. That is, unless the others want to play, as well; you really have no idea what to expect, and you are not certain you would deny them if they wanted to.

As you search for a way to end this conversation and return to the main bar before someone begins to notice the two of you are missing, Jimin comes barging in with his brows knit. Although you have done nothing wrong, there is a split moment of panic over how this may look, with the two of you in Jimin's office alone. 

But he simply glances between you and Jeongguk, huffs out a sigh, and says, "Oh, thank god. I was hoping to find you two in here."

"What's up?" Jeongguk asks, and you straighten out, worried that something may be wrong. 

"One of the regulars came in piss drunk and started harassing Hyejin. He groped her ass and when she slapped him, he got in her face. Security was able to intervene, but I need you to take him out back and fuck him up. Let him know shit like that doesn't fly at Boss Min's lovely establishment." 

Anger spikes heavily in your chest, and when Jimin turns to you and adds, "Dove, if you don't mind, I think she could use a friend," you nod, determined to do whatever it takes to make Hyejin feel safe. 

"On it," you say, walking past the men, down the short hallway, and out into the bar. 

Loud R&B music with a quick, enticing trap beat plays, and you stomp in your overpriced patent leather chelsea boots to the beat, storming into the main bar room like you own the joint and scanning the room for your girl. 

Standing at the main bar with her arms pulled tightly over her chest, is Hyejin surrounded by dancers. As soon as you approach, a girl who goes by Lily backs up and opens her arm wide to welcome you into the space. Hyejin is shaking when you drape your arm around her, hugging it loosely across her chest.

"Hey, beautiful," you say, and she turns and melts into you, throwing her arms over your shoulders and letting out a deep sigh. "Want to go out back and have a smoke?"

Hyejin hugs you tight and shakes her head, and you rub your hands over her back, waiting for her response. The dancers begin trickling out, having to get ready to perform, leaving pats on your and Hyejin's backs and soft words of support and encouragement. Once there is more space for her to breathe, Hyejin stands up straight and lets out another deep breath.

She is not crying, though her eyes are red, and when she looks at you with a frown, you gently place your hands at her temples and thumb at the smudged mascara under her eyes before muttering, "Perfect," with a grin. 

"I hate men," Hyejin says with a fake snarl, and you roll your eyes and nod dramatically, making her giggle. 

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask, and Hyejin shakes her head and says, "No. I want to dance."

Sitting on the bar is a half-empty pint of something bright blue, and Hyejin chugs it back, then leaves the empty glass behind and takes your hand, dragging you to one of the dance cages. The floor of the cage is raised about three feet from the ground and is a glowing octagon of rainbow color. Hyejin, wearing only a black satin bodysuit with lace trim and black stiletto heels, walks around to the back of the cage, closest to the nearby wall, and opens a door that blends in with the bars, then she takes a step up and hoists herself onto the platform. 

You follow behind and step up and into the cage, moving to the other side of the space to allow Hyejin to close the door. Although you are no stranger to dancing in sight of others, being in an elevated cage has your nerves spiked, and you wish you had taken a shot or three at the bar before agreeing to follow her. 

Hyejin wastes no time closing in on you with her fists around bars on either side of your head, and she holds on as she drops her hips low and swishes back up, all the while keeping her eyes on you. You sway to the beat with slower movements than the ones you watch Hyejin make, feeling entranced by her beauty and struggling to actually move the way she does. 

"Are you shy?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow, and you chuckle, letting go of some of your anxiety while you nod and mutter, "A little."

Hyejin spins with her arms still lifted, and wraps them over your shoulders, then dips down again, rubbing her ass against your thighs before standing up straight. You realize too late that you are frozen in place with your arms somewhat bent, like a Barbie doll, and Hyejin turns and immediately starts to laugh, bending and flinging her hair in front of her face. 

"I'm not apologizing for who I am," you whine as you join her in laughing, feeling embarrassed by your inability to act like a normal person around her. 

"I would never dream of asking you to," Hyejin says as she leans back against the bars across from you, swaying her hips with an amused grin. "But it is very cute how flustered you get."

You roll your eyes and smile, glad to at least be considered cute. Flirting and being flirted with is hardly an issue, and you would probably relax more around her if things were not so uncertain at the moment, in your love life. You are sure Yoongi and Namjoon would not mind, but it is a conversation you would like to have before you allow yourself to get carried away. 

Or, perhaps, there is nothing to allow. Probably, there is no way in which things could get carried away, but you are once again spiraling because Jeongguk has gotten under your skin. With a deep inhale, you remind yourself that Hyejin is likely just being friendly and that you are allowed to relax and have fun with her. 

So have fun, you do. The song changes to something with more of a club beat, and Hyejin begins to pump her hands in front of her chest while shaking her ass in overexaggerated movements, gyrating in a chaotic circle. With your hands pulled over your head, you begin doing some wiggle-shake move creating waves all the way down to your legs, laughing as Hyejin throws her hands over her head in an attempt to do the same. 

"What do you call this one?" She shouts over the music, and you shake your head and say, "I don't know! The overcooked noodle?" 

Hyejin practically throws her body against yours with laughter, and you trip backward, catching yourself with a hand on one of the bars to lessen your collision. There are definitely patrons behind you who have a view of whatever it is the two of you are doing, and you try not to feel too embarrassed. 

"Yah," Jeongguk calls, making you attempt to turn around, trapped in place by a hysterical Hyejin. He rounds the platform enough to come into view and grabs onto two of the bars as he teasingly says, "You girls are gonna scare away the customers."

You raise one hand toward him as if threatening to strike him, shouting, "Oh, shut u—" but the word dies as soon as your eyes fall to Jeongguk's knuckles, which are scraped and bloodied. 

"Jeongguk, what the fuck?" you ask, reaching for the nearest hand, which he slides away. 

Hyejin stands alert, then squats to be at eye-level with Jeongguk, and you fully turn, checking to make sure he has no other cuts or bruises, glad that he seems otherwise perfectly fine. 

"Relax," Jeongguk grumbles, tonguing the inside of his mouth while he cracks the knuckles of one fist against his palm, then switches to the other side. "This is nothing; scuff marks. That guy didn't land a single punch before he was lights out."

You sigh but accept that there is nothing you would be able to do to convince Jeongguk not to fuck someone up. It is, after all, something he has likely been trained to do and is celebrated for within the ranks of the family. Still, you hate to see his pretty hands bloodied. 

"Well, you know I don't condone violence," Hyejin says, reaching her hands between two bars, smiling when Jeongguk steps closer and allows her to grab onto his wrists. "But I really appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Of course," Jeongguk grumbles, smiling the soft smile that he does when he is attempting to hide the sweetness that festers inside him, threatening to burst. Cute. 

With a sigh, Hyejin lifts the wrist that Jeongguk wears his watch on, yanking it close while tilting her head to get a look. "I should go tend to the girls," she grumbles, releasing Jeongguk and standing to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You follow Hyejin's movements, watching which bars are part of the door, nervous that they blend in well enough and that you could be trapped in this cage for the rest of eternity, then you turn back to Jeongguk, who has two hands on two bars, and is staring up at you. 

"So," he says, stretching himself tall to speak to you, arching his back and tipping his chin upward. "I was wondering…"

Since you are already in the cage, and Jeongguk had already been a menace to your health and well-being earlier, you decide to take a page out of Hyejin's book and swish your body in an inviting wave as you squat, dragging your hands down the bars but keeping them lifted above your head. 

Jeongguk visibly swallows, losing what he was just in the process of saying, and you watch as his eyes trail to where your short skirt hugs your thighs, undoubtedly giving him a view of the black panties you wear underneath. And although you do not mind letting Jeongguk sneak a peek, you are glad that the lights are fairly dim in the club.

"What was that?" you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving a look that feigns innocence. 

The expression on Jeongguk's face flashes comically from needy to pained to frustrated, and he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head as if trying to rattle his thoughts free.

 "What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me, is that we should have dinner soon."

Jeongguk's offer takes a moment to compute, and you stare at him, heavy-blinking, trying to determine whether he is asking you on a date, or if we means more than just the two of you. 

"We, as in…"

"You, me, and our men."

"Ah," you respond; that makes sense. "Yeah, we should. That would be fun."

Jeongguk nods, letting his gaze fall once more to your legs before drifting slowly back to your face. "I'll talk to Taehyungah. Perhaps he can host, and I'll cook."

With an incredulous raise of your brow you ask, "Oh, you cook?" in a mocking tone of sheer disbelief. 

Jeongguk reaches up and holds his hands over yours, gripping firmly while he leans in, head between the bars and close. From here, you smell his cologne; from here you resist the urge to lean in close and kiss him. 

"I happen to be an excellent cook, dollface."

"Is that so?" you ask, voice much less confident than a moment ago.

"That is so," Jeongguk says, then he leans in somehow even closer, making your head spin. "So, it's a date?"

"Yeah," you respond, feeling your heart go wild behind your ribs. "It's a date."

What you did to me made me see the world differently Mis lágrimas se secan solos, solos Pues mírame a los ojos Dime si ves el vacío que deja amor perdido Yo no duermo hasta que mis sueño' están cumplidos Sé que estoy perdiendo, pero el juеgo no ha concluido

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ahhhh!!! how are we feeling??? i presonally really love this chapter. the next one containing the promised smut™ is coming very, very soon!!!! i promise. i was sad to leave Yoongi out of this chapter, and it was not my intention to have a full chapter without him, but it made sense to split the mega chapter this way, and it felt wrong to rush him back without mc taking time to sort her thoughts out and attempt to gain some independence.

thank you for reading!!! 💜💜💜 reblogs and comments make the world go 'round, and likes are nice too!!!

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[starshipsofstarlord]

Get lost - Natasha Romanoff x reader

Masterlist Link

Word Count - 1810

Summary | all you wanted was a drink, not a hookup in a seedy bar and a job offer from said partner. The world has a strange way of showing you the path that is meant for you

Warnings | smut, oral sex (f->f), swearing, drinking

“I don’t know who you are, nor do I have an intent to fight for anything other than myself, so in other terms, get lost.” You had spoken whence the infamous black widow approached where you were sat at the musty bar, nursing a glass of burning whiskey, allowing the poison to flow down the passage of your throat. Those were wise words, and instead of leaving, the former assassin took a prompt seat beside you, making a sigh abandon your chest.

“I’ve been told to bring you in; Fury’s orders. There’s an initiative-“ to pause her speech, you raised your finger in her direction, swirling the last of the alcohol in your mouth, before swallowing the drunkard’s fine wine without so much as a flinch. An initiative, well that was new, however you weren’t exactly one to be endorsed in anything; commitments weren’t your thing.

“Convince me why I should consider this offer.” You quirked your head at her silence, a smirk projecting onto your lips, as you stood, throwing your old army jacket over your shoulders, preparing to leave. What you had not expected, was for her to follow after you. She was quite the insistent recruit, and gosh, if the whole team was like that, well that merely served as evidence to support the fact that you indeed would not fit in with their goody goody prospective.

“Meet me in the bathroom, two minutes.” At her words, intrigue struck in the root of your chest, as you watched through hollow eyes, the red head walk away. A sigh rippled over your lips, as you shook your unruly head, following straight after her, into the small space. “Impatient.” She tutted, however you did not feel scolded, it was as though she appreciated your selfish obedience to chase after her.

“Spill.” You stated unimpressed, surprised when she locked the door behind you, and pressed you up against the sink, her relieving breath fanning over your chin as she stared down at the attire you adorned. You still wore your old gear as though they were every day clothes, and she knew that she had not been the only one to have noticed that.

“You can’t let go of being the hero, you were dismissed from serving this country. This is another chance to get back on track with your life, continue doing some good after your dismissal in the force. You have to understand, the government does not see people like you and me as everyday citizens, we are a problem in their eyes, but this time, we could be the very solution.”

“Well,” you yawned, unimpressed by her words, “that did little to convince me.” Crossing your arms, you meant up against the door, half assed to turn around and leave the shield agent to her own devices. Actually, that didn’t sound like a terrible idea. “Now if you excuse me there is a mount whiskey that I want quench my thirst, so...” as you spun, you were cut off by the sound of her voice, the concept she spoke of sparking an enrichment of curiosity within you.

“That wasn’t the method I originally had in mind.” The redhead revealed, smirking as she raised her brows, gouging your reaction of swiping your lip with your tongue. “Unless you’re not comfortable being with a woman, I don’t judge. However, if you want, the offer is freely wading around this room, all you have to do is take it.” You had caught onto what she was saying, and still, your intrigue remained, brewing like a heat within your chest.

“An offer you say?” You abandoned your brooding at the door, enclosing the space between you and the messenger of Nicholas Fury Junior, watching as her eyes flittered down your body. Dropping the jacket that provided you much comfort in difficult times to the ground, you went to reach for her belt, however her hand grasped harshly at your wrist as she tutted at you.

“This is about you, malishka. I don’t need any convincing, I am already on board, and will be in a literal sense in a few days.” She spoke in referral to the instigated quinjet. Sure, if you denied the extracurricular building of a team, she wouldn’t blame you, once she’d have let down the secret agency, during the times of her vigilance, however it was her duty to be one of the remarkable people that were recruited for something much bigger than herself, not to mention that Clint had gotten caught up in the mess whilst doing nothing more than his job.

Natasha popped the button on your jeans open, trailing the zipper down, as she directed you to be pressed against the sink that was in need of a thorough rinse. She descended to be in the position of a crouch, as she worked your bottoms and underwear down in one notion, slipping them down over your ass and to be reeled and hanging from your ankles. The agent bit her lip at the sight of your cunt, and you impatiently groaned as she took her sweet time to admire your lips and inner thighs.

“If it’s about me, why are you taking so bloody long?” You sassed at her, winding your hands through her fiery locks, pivoting her a closer look as you stifled the directory of her head with your desperate grip upon her. She spread your labia with her thumb and forefinger, reprising herself with the sight of your cunt. It tentatively clenched, as though it were winking at her, encouraging her to do something more than open it for her hungry eyes.

Her face leant forwards, her lips brushing over your folds, before, still having your labia spread, she found use of her tongue, running it through the tender exhibition of skin, stroking around the hood of your clit, darting beneath to scorn the heavy petal with the tip it. You tasted sweet, she found pleasure in providing you with some. She trailed her slick appendage down, sliding efficiently against you as your aroma filled her nostrils, it hitting heavily upon her hormones.

Her tongue darted inside of you, pursuing a juice cleanse of your sweetness, as she hungrily ate you, causing you to thrust your head back as your hips rutted towards her face, she grasped your ass cheeks, squeezing the pounds of flesh as she continued to please you. You didn’t know her name in that moment, nor did you need to, it wasn’t important, your priority was to finish upon that flawless face of hers as she skilfully gifted you with rounds of pleasure.

“Fuck.” You cried out, informing her that she was doing a swell job at enduring the sensitive of your pussy with her decisive tongue, that continued to slip out from your cunt and roll around your clit, building up a rhythm that had you visualising the glare of stars in your closeted vision. “I’m gonna fucking cum, gonna-“ your sentence was split with a diversion as you did just that, coating her plump lips with the silken liquid that surpassed out from your entrance. She cleaned you up with the swift wipe of her tongue, humming contently as she drank the essence of your body from your eternal tap.

“Y’ taste so fucking good.” She praised you, slipping her fingers down your moist slit, toying with your clit, as her tongue returned to the landscape that prompted your bottom half. She hummed as her mouth once more made contact with your already pleasured cunt, dipping the wet appendage into your entrance, gliding it through the surpass that it had already travelled through, as she pinched your burning bud.

“Don’t fucking stop.” You told her, and she had no plans of doing so, that would alternately be a crime, and you were already so close due to the fall from your prior orgasm. And thus, Nat decided to toy with you that little bit more, and extracted her tongue, opting to spit on your clit, as one hand continued to rubbed at your nub, and the other sunk its digits into you, filling you with three, making you keen from

the feeling of being stretched.

“That good honey?” She enquired, making a come hither motion inside of you, reaching your g spot with the tips of her fingers. Your hand roughly gripped the sides of the sink, as you used it as leverage to rotate your hips against her face, surely smothering her chin in your juices, not that she minded at all. You nodded with heavy lids, whimpering as she put great pressure upon your puffy and wet clit.

“So fucking good. Shit, ‘m gonna cum again.” You answered and warned her all in one, soon finishing with a sheen of sweat bordering your neck and chest as Natasha fastened her administrations upon your body, making you preen from the sweet burn between your legs. As you came, Nat returned her mouth to you cunt, pulling her fingers out and lapping up everything that you gave to her. “Holy cow.”

Natasha wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, licking her lips as she ogled dominantly up at you. “Did that convince you enough? I’d say my skill set usually has that kinda affect on people. So, what do you say y/l/n?” You cocked your head, running your hand through your hair, pressing your chest out as you heaved out a decision. “Speechless?” She smirked wantonly, making you lightly kick her away, as you frowned at her persecution of perspective.

“Now I have to pee, so if you don’t mind.” You rotated your finger in a turn around motion, trying to put off the retrospect of decision making. Nat rolled her eyes, turning around as you seated yourself on the toilet, pushing out a stream of your urine as she waited for you to finish. You grasped some toilet paper, cleaning yourself up, as you pulled up your clothes, picking your jacket up as you held it over your arm. “It was nice meeting you agent, guess we will see if I make an appearance.”

“Stop.” She paused your motivations to leave, and thus you did. “I don’t know why you were dismissed from the army, but you have to still be loyal to this country if you still wear that jacket with your honours on your shoulder. And whilst you have a sweet cunt, nothing says that your attitude has to match. All that you have to do is fight the enemy, and help us find an item called the teseract.”

“That’s all I have to do Red?” You asked, jutting your hip out in tune to listening to her. “I may need some context...” you spoke, expecting more than some information. “If you don’t mind reviewing me, of course.”

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Ayato Route ー Chapter 1

Yui: ( I have to retrieve my heart no matter what…! )

ー The scene starts in the carriage

Ayato: Oh, take a look, Chichinashi! The castle has come into view!

Yui: Eh...?

*Rustle*

Ayato: Heeh...Guess it’s to be expected with the ongoing Parade, but things seem pretty fired up in the surroundin’ city as well.

Hehe. I think we’re in for a good time...!

Yui: ...Hold up!

( A good time...? I thought we were going to look for my heart...? )

Ayato: Hm? Why are you frownin’...?

Ah. I bet you think that I’ve completely forgotten ‘bout your heart, aren’t you?

Yui: Uu...

Ayato: Hmph. How could I forget? I remember it very well!

But you know, we have to gather some information on this Walter guy first.

So I see no harm in enjoyin’ the Parade a lil’ while we’re at it?

Yui: Eeh...!?

( Can we really afford to take the slow approach...? )

...

Ayato: ...Are you that worried ‘bout your heart?

Yui: ...Well...

Ayato: Oi, listen up.

I’ll ensure you get your heart back.

So don’t worry. Trust me!

Yui: ...Yeah...

( ...Right. I’m the one who chose Ayato-kun after all...So I can’t lose faith... )

*Rustle*

Ayato: ...Puttin’ that aside, guess I’m take a lil’ break before we arrive at our destination.

That bein’ said, I’m gonna borrow your lap for a bit.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...! A-Ayato-kun!?

( He laid his head down in my lap...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( Count Walter...I wonder why exactly he has stolen my heart...? )

( Um...I think it was called a ‘Kleinod’? )

( Apparently I’m still alive because one of those has been put inside of me to replace my heart but...Still... )

...

( ...Let’s not think about that now. Worrying myself sick won’t get us any further anyway. )

( It’s just like Ayato-kun said. I shouldn’t make myself unnecessarily anxious... )

Ayato: ...Zzー ...Zzー...

Yui: ( Fufu. Ayato-kun seems to be enjoying his nap... )

ー The carriage suddenly comes to a halt

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...!

Ayato: Uwah!?

*THUD*

Ayato: ...Ow!!

Yui: ( ...! Ayato-kun was sent flying from the rebound...! )

A-Are you okay...!?

Ayato: T-The fuck!? I was sleepin’ so comfortably too...!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Oi, Familiar! Where did you learn to drive like that!? Cut the crap!

Familiar: M-My sincere apologies...! Someone suddenly jumped onto the road from behind the shadow of those trees...

Ayato: A person...? ...What? Who the fuck’s that bastard dressed in all black...?

Yui: ( ...A black-clad figure riding on a horse is blocking the path... )

( On top of that, he seems to be staring our way... )

Ayato: I don’t know what’s goin’ on but I don’t like this one bit...Fuck! Imma go give him a piece of my mind!

ー Ayato gets out of the carriage

 Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: Oi, don’t come down. Sit still and wait for me inside the carriage. ...Capiche?

ー He runs off

Yui: ( There he goes... )

( I wonder if he’ll be okay by himself...? )

ー The scene shifts to the outer area around Bernstein castle

Black-clad figure: ...

Ayato: Oi! Mr. Man in Black! You sure have some nerve to get in my way!

Who the fuck are you!? Get off your horse and name yourself!

*Thud*

Black-clad figure: ...I’m the gatekeeper.

Ayato: Gate...? Hmph! Strange name you’ve got there, mate!

Gatekeeper: I have no name. Gatekeeper...In other words, the one guarding the gate of the Demon World.

It is my duty to ensure that no unwanted intruders enter the Demon World...

I simply cannot allow that tainted woman who is neither demon nor human to set foot inside.

Ayato: Aah!? Oi, say that one more time?

She’s a tainted woman!? Imma send you straight flyin’ if you speak that sorta crap again!

ー The scene shifts back to the carriage

Yui: ( ...Oh no! I have to stop him! )

ー Yui rushes out of the carriage

Yui: Ayato-kun! Calm down!

Ayato: ...! Chichinashi!? Idiot! Why did you come out!?

Yui: Because...!

( At this rate, it’d turn into a fight... )

Gatekeeper: Hmph. I knew it...Oi, woman. You are under arrest.

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah...!

Ayato: ...! Not in my book! Let her go!!

*Rustle*

Gatekeeper: ...!

Ayato: You really think I’m gonna hand her over to some creep like you!?

Let’s go, Chichinashi! Run!!

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

ー The two of them start running as the scene shifts to Glimmer Main Street

Ayato: Haah...Haah...Seems like we got away somehow.

Even if he chases after us, we should be fine amidst this large of a crowd.

Yui: Right...

( Still...I wonder if we should have ran away...? )

( What did that person mean with ‘a tainted woman who is neither demon nor human...? )

( He must have been talking about me, right...? )

( Being here might be more dangerous in my current state than I thought... )

Ayato: ...Oi, what’s wrong? Why do you look so glum?

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: ...Listen, Chichinashi. You are mine.

I definitely won’t let someone else have you.

So you’ve got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

While I’m lookin’ for your heart, you can look ‘round the Parade and take it easy for a bit.

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun... )

( Right. Ayato-kun’s with me after all...I’m sure everything will be fine. )

( I’m sure he’ll save me no matter what happens... )

Okay. I will.

Ayato: Mmh! Let’s go then.

Male Vampire A: Oi, did you see it? The poster on the plaza...

Female Vampire A: Yes. one of Karlheinz’ sons is on the wanted list, right?

Male Vampire A: Yeah, it’s Sakamaki Ayato...

Yui: ...!?

( Ayato-kun’s a wanted criminal...!? )

Ayato: Ah? What did you say ‘bout Yours Truly?

Male Vampire A: ...’Yours Truly’...? Could you be...Sakamaki...Ayato...?

Ayato: ...? I mean, yeah?

Yui: ( ...! Ayato-kun just revealed himself! I have to cover up for him!! )

Let’s go over there!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Aah? The fuck you doin’ all of a sudden...?

Yui: ( Either way, we have to get away from here...! )

ー Yui drags him away as the scene shifts to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: ...Hmm, I see. I’m an outlaw, huh?

Well, I’m sure that ‘Gate’ guy or whatever his name was is behind it, right?

Hmph! He’s challengin’ me, huh? He’s got some balls then.

Yui: Anyway, that’s our current situation, so we should probably avoid crowded areas for now...

Ayato: ...Well, you might be right but...

...Say, Chichinashi?

Yui: Eh?

ー He pins her against the wall

*Thud*

Yui: ...Kyah!

Ayato: Aren’t you just makin’ up excuses ‘cause you want some private time with me...?

Yui: Eh...!?

Ayato: You should just be honest ‘bout it then. ...I don’t mind.

I was just ‘bout in the mood for that as well. Nn...

Yui: Nn...!

Ayato: Nn...Haah...

Yui: Haah...! Gosh, Ayato-kun! Now’s not the time for this...!

Ayato: Oh shut up. You’re the one who enticed me.

Come on, look this way. I’ll give you one more. Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

( ...It’s no use. I can’t push him away... )

ー Footsteps can be heard in the background

Male Vampire A: I could have sworn they went that way...

Ayato: ...!?

Yui: ( ...!! Somebody’s coming!! )

Ayato: ...Che. Seems like somethin’ got in the way. We’ll continue later. Come here!!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...Ayato-kun, wait...!

ー They run off again to an underground passage

Ayato: Fuck...That Gate guy totally ruined our plans to enjoy the Parade...

Oi, Chichinashi. We’re takin’ a break. Now!

Yui:  A-A break...? Right here?

Ayato: ...Let’s see if there’s any good spots ‘round...Well, guess we can just open one of these doors at random...There!

*Thud*

Yui: ( ...! He’s opening doors without permission...! )

Ayato: Oh. Better than I expected. We can take a seat and rest here.

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...Couldn’t this be the basement of someone’s home...?

( He just invited himself in...We’ll get yelled at if they find us! )

ー The scene shifts to an underground room

Ayato: ...Heeh. Well, it’s a lil’ dusty in here, but I guess it’s more comfortable than the place we were at before...

Well thenー... Guess I’ll kick back and relax for a bit.

*Thud*

Yui: ( Ayato-kun totally made himself at home... )

Selection

→ Call him out (☾)

Yui: ( I should probably tell him... )

...Hey, Ayato-ku...

Ayato: Come on, you should sit down here with me. I’m sure you’re tired from runnin’ ‘round, right?

Yui: ( Is he looking out for me...? It’s kind of difficult to call him out now... )

→ Keep quiet 

Ayato: Come on, you should join me here as well.

Yui: S-Sure...

ー Yui takes a seat next to him

Yui: ( It can’t be helped...If the resident of this house were to come down here, we can just explain the situation to them... )

( ...However, if this person has seen the wanted poster...What will we do...? )

( Perhaps we should explain the circumstances to the Gatekeeper instead, )

( and have the wanted poster taken down...? But... )

ー A flashback ensues

Ayato: ...Listen, Chichinashi. You are mine.

I definitely won’t let someone else have you.

So you’ve got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( I truly felt happy to hear those words from Ayato-kun... )

( He got upset when the Gatekeeper called me a ‘tainted woman’ as well... )

( Despite some of his statements, I can tell he properly looks out for me... )

( I’ll stick to his plan for a while after all... )

( ...Wait, huh...? )

ー Ayato opens one of the cupboards

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Check this out! There’s so much interestin’ stuff to find in this room!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun!?

( He went ahead and opened one of the cupboards...! )

A-Ayato-kun...! You’ll get scolded for looking through other people’s belongings...!

Ayato: Haah? Who cares? It’s not like I’m tryin’ to steal anythin’.

Anyway, look...You should join me here as weーー

*THUD*

Ayato: ...!? Uwah...!!

Yui: ( The cupboard...!! )

*CRASH*

Yui: ( O-Oh no...! It fell over...! )

Ayato: S-Shit...

ー Somebody rushes downstairs

???: ...Is someone there!?

Yui: ( ...! We’re busted! )

Ayato: ...Yeah. We let ourselves in for a bit, ‘kay?

House owner: ...! Who are you two!? What are you doing in someone else’s basement!?

Ayato: What do you mean...? Can’t you tell we’re takin’ a lil’ break here? Got a problem with that!?

House owner: Of course I do!!

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!

We’re on the wanted list, so we have to somehow talk our way out before things escalate...!

Ayato: Che, shut up. I don’t need you tellin’ me that! ...There!

*THUD THUD*

House owner: Uwah!

Yui: ( He knocked over a different cupboard this time...! )

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Now’s our chance! We’re gettin’ out of here!!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...! W-Wait, Ayato-kun...!

ー The scene shifts back to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: Haah...That was close...

Yui: ...Gosh, you definitely went too far just now!

Ayato: Aah!? Fuck off!

If we just stood ‘round there twiddlin’ our thumbs, we would have both gotten arrested!

Yui: ...Even so...!

Ayato: Anyway, we can’t return to the underground now...

...Guess we have no other choice. Okay, this way. Let’s go.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...But that’ll take us back to the plaza from earlier, no...? )

Ayato-kun, wait...! Where are you...?

Ayato: I’ve got an idea. ...Lend me your ear for a sec.

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: There should be a dress shop right across the plaza. We’re gonna get ourselves some costumes there.

Yui: Costumes...?

Ayato: There’s plenty of people walkin’ ‘round dressed up as part of the Parade.

If we mix in with them, we’ll be able to proceed without gettin’ our cover blown, right?

Yui: ...I see! Way to go, Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: Heh! How’s that? Let me tell you, try and keep your head high. 

Bein’ all sneaky and trying to keep low will only make you stand out more in these kinds of situations.

Yui: ...Yeah, gotcha!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the dress shop

Ayato: ...Phew. We made it to the store somehow.

Yui: ( Thank god... )

( I’m sure it’s because my heart is missing that nobody took notice of me, unlike the previous times I’ve been here...Right? )

( ...However, we can’t rest assured just yet. We have to make sure the employees don’t recognize us... )

Dress shop owner: Are you looking for something?

Ayato: Yeah! We want costumes for the Parade. For me...and for her as well.

Dress shop owner: Understood! In that case, I would highly recommend these outfits which came in just earlier today!

Ayato: Oh! Show us then!

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun’s acting completely normal... )

( I guess nobody would suspect we’re wanted outlaws like this... )

Ayato: Hm...There’s quite the collection. Oi, Chichinashi. Which one do you want?

Yui: ...Hm, let’s see...

( If we want to conceal our faces, a mask might be good... )

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: ...Hey, look at this one.

Yui: Eh?

*Rustle*

Ayato: You over there! Stop fooling around and make your choice already! Your sense of danger is severely lacking! 

Yui: ...!

Ayato: ...What do you think of these nose glasses? All I gotta do is part my hair differently (1) to complete the look!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...Just now were you trying to...? 

( Imitate...Reiji-san...? )

Ayato: Hehe. Whatcha think? I sounded just like him, no?

Yui: ...Pfft....

Ayato: Ah! Why are you laughin’ your ass off!?

Yui: I-I mean...!

Ayato: ...You finally smiled. 

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: You’ve had a frown on your face ever since we came here. 

Don’t blame me if it gives you wrinkles. (2)

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...He was trying to make me laugh on purpose... )

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: ...’Kay, guess this will have to do for now...

Yui: ( We got masks and costumes for the both of us...I guess we’ll be okay now. )

( We kind of got caught up in the flow and spent quite some time inside the store. )

ー They leave the dress shop

Yui: ( Ah...! We accidentally walked out without our disguises. We have to get changed somewhere... )

Female Vampire A: ...Ah, hey...Aren’t they...? 

Male Vampire A: ...I’m positive! It’s those two from earlier...! Seize them!

Yui: ( T-Those people from earlier...! T-This is bad...!! )

Ayato: Oi, we’re makin’ a run for it, Chichinashi! Come here!!

Yui: Y-Yeah!

ー They run towards the wagon area

Male Vampire A: They went that way!

Yui: ( They’ll catch us at this rate! )

Ayato: Fuck! No way I’m lettin’ myself get caught so easily!

Female Vampire A: They went that way!

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! We’re takin’ a shortcut! This way!

Yui: Eh!?

Crepe vendor: Crepes! Who’s in the mood for a fresh crepe?

Ayato: Get out of the way!

*THUD*

*CRASH*

Crepe vendor: Uwaah! My stall!

Yui: ( H-How terrible...! )

Ayato-kun, you can’t do such a thing...!

Ayato: Whatever, just follow me! Do you want to get caught!?

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...!

( Even if he says that, this is messed up!! )

ー The two of them flee to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: Haah...Haah...Che, a dead end...

It can’t be helped...I’ll just jump up in the air the...Uwah!?

*Flip*

Ayato: The fuck!? ...Wait, this is...

Yui: ...! Could this be...

( It’s our...wanted notice, right? But...these portraits... )

( ...They look nothing like us...actually... )

Ayato: ...Hahaha....Ahahaha!

What’s this? Who made these sloppy drawings?

Yui: ...But in this case, we probably wouldn’t have gotten recognized even without dressing up...

Ayato: Well, you do have a point...

ー Somebody walks up to them

???: ...I have finally found you two. No more of this useless game of tag.

Ayato: ...! You’re...!

Yui: ( The Gatekeeper... )

Ayato: ...Chichinashi! Grab hold of me! We’re takin’ off!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun, let’s not...

Ayato: Ah? The fuck you sayin’!?

Yui: Even if we do that, it’ll just bring us back to square one...

Let’s go with this person and explain the situation to them?

Ayato: Haah!? What are you sayin’!? Why should we let ourselves get arrested when we’ve done nothin’ wrong!?

Yui: ...Exactly. We have to start by explaining why we came here and clear our names.

Ayato: ...Why should we...!?

Gatekeeper: Hmph. For being a tainted woman, you seem rather reasonable.

Ayato: Tsk...Try sayin’ that one more time, you punk! I’ll send you flyin’!

*Rustle*

Yui: Ayato-kun! It’s fine! Just calm down, okay?

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: How can I stay calm!? That bastard talked shit ‘bout you bein’ tainted again...!

Yui: Please! Listen to me right now...!!

Ayato: ...Fuck!

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...I’m sorry... )

Gatekeeper: So? Have you made your decision? Well, you only ever had one choice from the very beginning.

Yui: ...We will come with you.

Gatekeeper: ...Very well. Come with me then. I have a carriage waiting for us on the main street.

Yui: ...Yes.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...Let’s go, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: ...

ー They get in the carriage

Monologue

And so,

we were taken suspect,

by the Gatekeeper.

The place we were taken to by the carriage,

was Bernstein castle.

The home of Count Walter,

and the exact same location we were headed ourselves...

It turned out that the Gatekeeper,

had been looking for us,

upon Count Walter’s direct order.

ー The scene shifts to the throne room in Bernstein castle

Ayato: Che. Tell us that right from the beginning next time!

That Gate-something is actually one of Walter’s underlings!

???: ...Well, well, my sincere apologies.

Ayato: ...! Walter!

Yui: ( ...! This man is Count Walter...! )

Count Walter: So you are Ayato, son of the world-famous Karlheinz?

Ayato: Hmph! You bet! Altho I don’t give a damn ‘bout the Old Man.

Count Walter: Please, don’t say that. And you must be...

...I see...You are, huh? ...Fufu...

Ayato: Aah? The fuck’s your problem...? Stop ogling her!

Count Walter: Fufu, don’t get so upset. Well then, let us use this opportunity to have a nice, leisurely chat. Take a seat.

Ayato: Oi...I didn’t come here for no chit-chat.

Give her heart back. Right now!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: I mean, I’m not wrong, am I!? All of this happened ‘cause this freak stole your heart...!

Count Walter: ...I see. Ayato, it appears to me that you have quite the temper.

I have actually been testing you two.

Yui: Us...?

Count Walter: Yes. Ever since I sent that card your way, I have been keeping a close eye on you from here the whole time.

To see if you, and your partner Ayato...

...are suitable candidates to possess a precious treasure of which only one exists in this world.

Ayato: A precious...treasure...?

Yui: Could that be...?

( Is he talking about my stolen heart...? )

Count Walter: Hence why I chose not to reveal my ties with the Gatekeeper in an attempt to observe how you would deal with him.

However, unfortunately, it seems like you two are simply not suited for this treasure.

Yui: ...No way!

Ayato: What do you mean!?

Count Walter: I am sure you will agree with me if you take a second to think back to everything you have done these past couple of hours?

Ayato: Fuck off! Why do we have to get told all this shit by a frickin’ thief, huh!?

Stop spoutin’ this nonsense and hand back her heart!

*THUD*

Count Walter: ...That just cost you another five points.

Ayato: Haah? The fuck are these points...!?

Count Walter: While we may know each other’s names, this is our first time meeting in person. On top of that, I am your senior by many years...

Yet you choose to behave in such an outrageous way, which can only result in a bad score, no?

I cannot see someone like that as a fit candidate for this treasure...

Ayato: Aah!? You’re in no position to tell me that!

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun!!

Count Walter: Haah...There goes another five points. This is just sad.

As I thought, I don’t think I will be returning this treasure any time soon. Give up and go home. Gatekeeper! Show our guests the way o..

Yui: P-Please wait! J-Just one more...! Can’t you give us one more chance?

Count Walter: ...Hooh.

Yui: I’m begging you! Without that heart, I will...

Please...! Just one more chance...!

Count Walter: Hm...I see...

It seems that unlike with Ayato’s case, you seem worthy of retaking the trial.

Ayato: Aah!? Excuse me!?

Count Walter: ...Well then, Yui-san. Out of respect for you, I shall give you one more chance.

Yui: ...Really!?

Count Walter: Yes. Well then...You two will go and set straight all crimes you have committed here in the Demon World.

Yui: Set straight...our crimes...?

Count Walter: ...Exactly. In the meantime, I shall watch your every move from here.

If you can satisfy me with your approach, I do not mind returning your heart to you then.

Yui: ...Really!? Thank you so much!

Count Walter: Fufu. Being capable of giving a genuine response to someone’s act of goodwill is an admirable feat. I shall award you one point for that.

Ayato: Aah!? Look at you favorin’ Chichinashi this whole time! I’m not diggin’ this!

Count Walter: Oi, Ayato. If you do not watch your words, you will lose points again? Why not take a lesson or two from her?

Ayato: ...!

Count Walter: Well then, get going you two!

Yui: ...B-But...What should we do exactly?

Count Walter: Fufu. You will have to figure that one out yourself.

All I can say is that you should think long and hard about everything you have done so far and fix things appropriately...That’s it.

Well then, I have high hopes for you.

Yui: ...Yes. Please excuse us now. ...Ayato-kun, let’s go.

Ayato: Ah, oi! Chichinashi! Wait!!

*TIMESKIP*

Monologue

We returned to the city,

in a carriage which had been prepared for us.

The Count had been so kind,

to take down the wanted posters,

which meant we no longer had to hide ourselves,

while going from one place to another.

However, the real challenge starts now.

Let us take a deep breath and think first.

About the true meaning,

behind the task which has been given to us by the Count...

I have to somehow retrieve,

my stolen heart after allーー

While trying my best to explain the situation,

to Ayato-kun who seemed as grumpy as ever,

we settled in a waterside hotel.

ー The scene shifts to the hotel room

Yui: Ayato-kun?

( ...He’s not here...? )

( Could he be out on the balcony? ...He must still be upset, huh...? )

ー She steps out on the balcony

Ayato: ...

Yui: ...Ayato-kun. You must be thirsty, no? I’ve got some juice. I’ll leave it here, okay?

*Thud*

Yui: ...Um...I’m sorry...I was quite selfish back then...

Ayato: Che, my thoughts exactly! What was your problem? You just bent to that Count’s will like it was nothing...

He’s the one who stole your heart in the first place, remember!?

So why are we the ones who have to get tested!? It makes zero sense!

Yui: ...Yeah...

( I can’t blame him for getting upset...Still... )

Say, Ayato-kun? Listen?

Ayato: Aah? 

Yui: I don’t think you’re wrong...

When we came here and the Gatekeeper talked badly about me...

You got mad at him...Remember? That made me really happy, you see. 

Ayato: ...!

Yui: I was convinced you’d protect me no matter what. I told myself to have some faith in you.

Even when we were being chased around by a bunch of strangers, I knew things would be okay because you were there with me.

I want to stay with you from here on out too.

...That’s why I just have to get my heart back.

So we can be together in the future as well...

Ayato: Chichinashi...

Yui: I truly do feel bad for involving you in this as well.

If you don’t want to, I’ll handle it by myself.

I promise I’ll return with my heart, so you can...

ー He suddenly embraces her

*Rustle*

Ayato: You really think I’d do that!? Don’t give me that crap!

...You are mine. How many times do I have to repeat myself?

Ayato-sama will definitely retrieve your heart!

I mean, doesn’t it only make sense? If you are mine, then so is your heart.

I’m not gonna let that bastard do with it as he pleases...!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...Nn...!

Ayato: Nn...

Oi, Chichinashi. Don’t ever say you’ll go by yourself again. ...Understood?

Yui: ( Ayato-kun... )

...Yeah. Gotcha. I won’t.

Ayato: Mmh...Well then...Let’s call it a day.

Starting tomorrow, we’ve gotta get started on that fucked up task given to us by the Count after all.

Yui: Yeah, good idea. ...Ah, Ayato-kun!

Ayato: Pwaah...Hm, what?

Yui: Listen...Okay? ...Thank you for everything...

Ayato: ...Hmph. What are you sayin’ out of nowhere...?

...Oi. I was gonna sleep but I changed my mind. Come here.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Eh!? W-Wait...Ayato-kun!? Kyaah! )

*Thud*

Ayato: ...Oi, Chichinashi. If you want to thank me that badly, you better tend to me tonight.

Yui: Eh? W-What do you mean...?

Ayato: ...Let me suck your blood. I was just feelin’ kinda thirsty.

Don’t even try sellin’ me that juice of yours. It has to be your blood. Hehe.

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: Nn...Haah...Nn...

Haah...It really does taste a lil’ different from usual but oh well...

...It’s still your blood in the end.

In other words, every single drop of this blood belongs to me as well. Nn...

Yui: ...Ayato...kun...

Ayato: ...Oi, gimme more. Nn...Nn...

Yui: ( Even if his words are harsh at times, he always embraces me so gently... )

( I’m sure everything will be okay with Ayato-kun by my side... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) 七三 or ‘seven-three’ refers to a type of hair style in which the hair is parted unevenly with 30% being on one side and the other 70% on the other, hence the name ‘seven-three’. Reiji has this hairstyle, so Ayato always refers to him as 七三メガネ or ‘shichi-san megane’ 

(2) Literally he says ‘Don’t blame me if your face never goes back to normal’

← RETURN TO PROLOGUE

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 2]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ SHUU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ KANATO]

[kremlin]

Quick note for all you youngsters out there

We all come to learn that growing up, you have to come to terms with yourself changing and adapting to adulthood and that's ok! We've all been there. It's OKAY to feel anxiety about growing older but rest assured, you can be ultimately certain adulthood will come and you WILL get used to it. Just remember in the heat of the moment when things seem so scary and new, you will look back one day and laugh at what once seemed so frightening. Hell, I'll tell you a funny story I remember when I was on the cusp of adulthood. Picture this, 25th birthday! Great night with friends at the bar cut too short when something came up and they left with a resounding Goodbye Ian. So I decide to get a jump on the next day and hit the sack early. In bed before midnight? What a boomer 😂 And then just like that, 12:00 on the dot, churchbells! At night? There isn't a church anywhere near here or near anywhere. Each chime was louder and louder and I started to grow uneasy. "Wait a minute, the pitch is off, what's going on?" I tried to get up but the rigor mortis had already set in. And then it became clear, the bell tolls for thee (haha, remember having to read this in school?) That weird pitch shift is to match the resonant frequency of MY bones! It became hard to differentiate between sound waves and undulations on all the new spectra I was experiencing punishment on. Pretty soon my bones were nothing but a fine powder and my vision cleared and I saw her -- A real angel! And not your kiddy book picture bible angel, we're talking a big boy book of revelations angel! Twisting, curling ribbons of inconceivable length covered in eyeballs all leering at yours truly. Come on, I have stage fright! This is giving a talk at a middle school assembly all over again 🙄 No thanks. That ended quickly much to my relief as what homogenized soup formerly comprising my body flashed to radioactive steam and carbon and it became clear as you get older things change. No more drinking with your pals on weeknights! You need your beauty sleep. Laying on the couch watching your Netflix does not count, and neither does death! Anyways. Things get a little hazy here (thanks to the fun I had with Sailor Jerry earlier that night xD) but there wasn't any looking away from the angel as she brought the silver sepulchers closer. A little snip snip and the divine light is gone. Didn't hurt a bit! You'll experience death more times than there are atoms in the universe but consciousness never ends! The only thing more certain is having to pay income tax every April 😂 I woke up the next morning, a proud twenty five year old who spent a little too long gazing upon the forbidden and had to go downstairs to get some Aspirin to deal with the hangover and knowledge of how unbelievably cursed I was after witnessing the forbidden. But it's all good! I sit here before you free of worry or fear or other things that you feel. Just another part of growing up. You realize the things you thought were certain in the past were just sort of ways you coped with the inevitable. LOL -- I remember reading on reddit.com how the passages in the bible about hell were fake with some monks writing them in to put the fear of god in people? I told myself there was only heaven. Imagine the egg on MY face when I learned it was the opposite! You'll grow and you'll learn. It will be ok. You are always yourself and no amount of time nor any conceivable force allow you to take that away from yourself. The same soul hitting these keys today is the same soul that hit them all those years ago on my favorite neopets website. Except these days, these old bones know they need to get up and stretch once and a while, and that the machinations of these fingers hitting the keys is much the same as if they were struck by one of those drinking bird novelty toys. Sure, they keys are depressed but just by some object with some interesting physics in between. Gosh, sometimes I think back to what it was like to be young. I lay in that same bed and sometimes, when the stars are juuuuuust right, I can make out an Ian-shaped

stain on the ceiling from when I sublimated into an uninteresting gas mixture. I can almost make out where my pupils were and it is kind of weird to think back to my 25th birthday when the lights in those eyes were snuffed out forever. Haha, at this rate my next blog post will be about prostate exams! Growing old is funny.

Hope you liked this. Please like and subscribe, and check out our two new upcoming podcast episodes -- How to set up a retirement account that will benefit YOU when you grow old. Personally, I'm split equally between animal viscera, fetid blood semisolids, and an even solution of sterile semen. Patreon episode this week is a full hour long special of unbroken sobs and weeping.

[multi-lefaiye]

hello hey hi, happy STS! :D I have lost track of the passage of time once again! I hope you're having a cool day!

I have maybe a silly question for today. which superpowers would be best suited to your characters, if they had to take one on? are there any powers they'd really enioy or get a lot of use out of? and what kinds of superpowers would they absolutely HATE to be stuck with?

hi hello yes!!! it's okay, i have to, hence why i am answering this on a tuesday asdfjkl;. this weekend was busy!!!!! i'm having a cool day, though!! i am Stressed but i will persevere!

anyway, i love this question so much oh my gosh??? i am Delighted. i'm going to answer this for the cast of A Modern Ghost Story, because i'm thinking about that a little bit and i've finally figured out who the characters of that actually ARE. i'll answer under the cut for each of them in case this gets a little long asdfjkl;

Syd absolutely would really get a lot of use out of any kind of telepathic or psychic abilities. More specifically, they'd really want to be able to see and talk to spirits very easily. It's all they want. Please. I think they'd probably cry if they had powers and they had anything else, but ESPECIALLY if they had flight (they're afraid of heights).

Yara would first like to say that the idea of people with superpowers is ridiculous and unrealistic. That said, she would want something really wacky and off the walls. I think she'd be happiest with a kind of super-suit situation where she's just really smart and made her own powers. It'd be hilarious if Yara, noted skeptic, had the ability to see and talk to ghosts, though. She would hate it so much.

Roach would be happiest with either some kind of fire powers or shapeshifting. Ideally, both. They really would just want whatever kind of superpower would allow them to cause the most chaos and trouble. I think they'd LEAST like to have something pretty mundane or uninteresting.

Oliver, in contrast, would want something more mundane! He's a pretty chill guy and doesn't like things that are more high stakes and chaotic. I think he'd like to have, like... maybe minor telekinesis so he can stir his tea without needing to grab anything, or maybe just to be strong enough to pick up Roach and carry them around.

Juno already has some powers and they're perfectly satisfied with what they have. No changes. They'd be upset if you made any changes.

Asher feels much the same as Juno, as she also has some powers already, but she wouldn't mind having perhaps the ability to shapeshift a little.

Apollo is in the same boat as Asher and Juno, except it would love to be able to fly. That's all it wants. Please let it fly.

Jimmy and Dog would be menaces if they had powers. What powers would they have? Good questions. Sparky would be fine, though.

[yikesola]

Wait, what do you mean by

“Having gentle touches in a damage control video where the fate of the tour hangs in the mental health balance”

that tag? It’s been a while I totally forgot what happened that proceeded it?

This is from agesssssssss ago referring to a tag on this post (I’m sorry for such a late late late late answer!

Gosh the whole event feels like 10 years ago and also yesterday 😩 let me dig way back in my brain and see what’s still in there —

This was all surrounding the infamous ttlmt “laughter food and sex” and “things coming in and out of my mouth, apparently” moment, which was for context because I think we forget the passage of time but well over a year before Dan came out. He did a liveshow after posting ttlmt where he seemed a little miffed people were really fixating on the sex comments when he felt the bigger “point” of the video was his struggle with authenticity, and came with clips prepared of other takes with slightly different phrasing he decided against — the attitude wasnt well received, it felt condescending and like he was angry at viewers for talking about something he had purposely put there to be talked about (I’m empathetic to both Dan and the people that were upset by this btw) so then basically the gifs in the post are from a video Phil posted with a crazy quick turnaround, very much with the attitude of damage control and trying to smooth things over. There’s a lot of behind the scenes stuff we have the info of now that I think helps with dnp’s perspective— Dan’s mental health at the time was so tumultuous they mention in the mukbang they genuinely thought they were gonna have to cancel ii, and we know from BIG that dan was trying to come out to his family and post a coming out video amidst all this (I am eternally grateful he allowed himself that extra year of breathing room, jesus)

These are all things that like ,, fuck it was a long time ago and I’m sure to new phannies or even phannies who like only watched main channel vids and not liveshows this all totally went over their heads, I’m sure the video is fine fun filler for them. I got soft in the tag thinking about how even with all this contextual baggage I swath around this video, Phil is still there, being smiley and gentle and tactile :’) he’s trying to make Dan laugh as much as he’s trying to make any of us, and that’s always when Phil is his brightest

I will say that dan seems to be ready to laugh about that skirmish— when Phil says in the mukbang that the fleas in the rug are eating their ass, dan jokes that he didn’t reference ass eating on dinof because he didn’t wanna be crass and here Phil is doing it on ap :’) darling boy :’’))

[cozycornerwritings]

7 Minutes of Spin the Bottle

Sure you were definitely an upcoming hero, but what you didn’t expect was to be invited to a Pro hero party. You could have your quirk to thank, a quirk of luck.

No matter how lucky you are, your quirk cannot save you from your own self inflicted stupid problems. Today you had argued with EaserHead himself, in front of his own class that he invited you to. To be fair you did have an amazing point, at least you thought you did. So much so that you left the classroom in shock in awe as you walked out.

After the horrible day you’ve had you definitely are looking forward to the little slice of heaven tonight, in fact the angel himself, Hawks, would be there. Your thirst has no bounds, therefore you accepted FatGums invitation without hesitation. Although EraserHead would be there, if your quirk could save you from murderous villains it can certainly save you from an awkward conversation.

......

Thiccgum: you pulling up soon y/n?

🍀: yee, I’m at the door come get me

You found yourself at someone’s apartment. Whose you may ask? You had absolutely no idea. You knock lightly and the door opens up to one of your favorite people.

“Taishiro, hug hug.” You open your arms up to the giant man and FatGum happily picks you up into a monster embrace.

“I hope you are ready y/n, the food at these pro hero parties are the bomb.” FatGum squeezes you lightly and sets you back onto the floor. You lean to look past him and scope out who has decided to attend. Hmm Present Mic, Mt. Lady, Hound Dog, Ryukyu,... Aizawa.., annnnd hello Hawks.

You walk over to the couch where most people have congregated, avoiding even looking in the direction of Eraser Head, and sit on the arm. FatGum follows and sits at your feet like a big puppy.

Hawks is the first to speak up, “so Fat, tell me about your ~special~ friend.” He speaks with a playful gaze pointing in your direction.

FatGum taps your knee with his huge hand and with a blush he awkwardly speaks, “this is y/n. They are an upcoming hero and um.. super cool so I thought they should come.” Everyone in the room stares at the two of you and you’ve never seen Taishiro look so embarrassed. “They’re quirk i-is getting lucky.”

Hawks smirks with an almost devilish look, “getting lucky huh? I’d love to see it first hand.” You blush as everyone but Aizawa let’s out a laugh.

Mt. Lady comes and sits beside you with a wink, “y/n, looks like you’re gonna have fun tonight.” Despite the burning feeling of Aizawa glaring at you, you chuckle.

Present mic stands up dramatically and sets an empty bottle on the table “Aaaare yooou ready?!” Everyone notices your puzzled face, but only Mt. Lady helps to fill you in as many people refill their drinks, “You see, we planned to play a round of spin the bottle mixed with 7 minutes in heaven. I suggested we call it Seven minutes of spin the bottle, but Hounddog said that was stupid. “

Surprised, you look over at FatGum, who even sitting is still level with you on the couch. He appears to be intensely focused on the blank wall across the room, avoiding your gaze.

Well, this couldn’t be anymore perfect, everyone in this room is smoking hot, and it’s almost as if your quirk was made to help you suck face with hotties. You decide then and there that although Hawks is what you’re going to go for, any one but Eraser Head will be more than fine. The last thing you want is to be forced into a closet with Aizawa, he would probably just look at you with that pissed off expression and make you feel bad about yourself.

People begin taking their seats and Present Mic speaks up to you, “ I heard you pissed off Eraser! Congrats! We have all done it. At this point it’s a right of passage.”

Everyone but the ice king himself look over at you with a look of ‘tell us more’. You chuckle and take a sip of FatGums drink.

Aizawa’s voice cuts through the suspense and his pissed off expression tells it all, “y/n here argued with me about how the school is essentially using child labor. They insisted to my students that young hero’s shouldn’t be expected to sacrifice their lives for others and that young hero training culture is toxic.”

Man time to really focus on this drink.

Hawks almost looks.. impressed? Happy? Everyone else in the room just lets out an awkward chuckle at the horrible turn that the conversation had taken.

“Let’s Driiink and play.” Mic THANK GOSH breaks the silence. “Don’t forget everyone quirks allowed!”

You hear Mt. Lady mumble a complaint about how most people’s quirks couldn’t help at all here, especially hers.

“New hero first!” Hound declares, and hands the empty wine bottle to you.

You smile and set the bottle on the table, this night is going to be GREAT. Anyone but eraser head, there is no way that your luck could fail. After all, it was your power.

What you didn’t account for was Aizawa using his erasing quirk on you.

You watch in horror as the bottle slows to a stop, pointing at none other than the one person you wanted to avoid.

The room is silent. Aizawa simply stares at you, expression challenging and unchanging. Hawks let’s out a small cough and FatGum takes a sip from his drink.

Mt. Lady decides to go with it and ushers you two into the closet. “Seven minutes!! Good luck!!” You hear her mumble one last thing as you get shoved in, “God rest your soul y/n”

The door shuts behind you and you stand in the dark closet with him, wishing for someone to take care of your cat after you are gone.

“So.....” you try to talk your way out, “we can just not do this.”

You feel him grab your arm roughly with one hand, the other grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him. His voice rumbles lowly, “Are you going to apologize willingly or am I going to make you.”

Your face flushes and your breath catches. You struggle against him a little and feel his grip on you tighten. Through gritted teeth you respond to his enticing challenge, “make me.”

Roughly Aizawa slams you against the side of the closet, his lips meeting yours in a crash. Quickly his tongue finds its way into your mouth as his hand travels from your chin to your throat. You feel the grip against your throat tighten as he deepens the kiss, slipping the other hand to your back.

He pulls back from the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting the two of you. “Don’t challenge me y/n, you will lose.” You try to catch your breath from the kiss but with your heart pounding so hard, you can’t form words.

Using the thumb of the hand gripping your neck, he forces you to look up at his face. You feel his fingers lightly graze your spine, and a shiver runs down your back. His hand grips your butt and he pushes his body against you, further forcing you against the wall.

“Open your mouth.” Aizawa orders. You part your lips as you look into his eyes. He looms his mouth over yours. Locking eyes with you, he spits into your mouth. Using his hand, he shuts your mouth and grabs your chin again.

“Good girl, now swallow it.” Utterly surprised, you follow his orders, a dumbfounded look on your face. Aizawa tilts your head up, his lips meeting your neck. The hand on your butt slides down to your thigh, roughly forcing it up and onto his hip.

He presses his entire weight against you and a moan nearly escapes your lips. His teeth bite onto a sensitive part of your neck, causing you to squirm against him, further turning you on. You shutter as he sucks on the place he bit, making a dark hickey appear on your neck along with a near perfect imprint of his teeth.

“Apologize before I do that to your nipple” Aizawa almost growls against your neck. You try to moan out an apology, but you watch as his head quickly moves down to your chest before you can answer. His grip on your neck forcing you to stand straight.

With horny panic you put your hands into his hair, gripping his black locks tightly and pulling his head back.

You gasp and sputter, “I I am s-sorry.”

You look down at him as a devilish look crosses his face, “I don’t think I heard you properly.” He opens his mouth and pulls his head forward toward your chest.

“I-I” your words get cut off by your moan as he bites down on your sensitive nipple. You scream out in a mix of pleasure and pain, apologies pouring out of your mouth between gasps.

Mt. Lady coughs awkwardly, standing in the doorway. “Um guys time is up.”

Aizawa let’s out a huff, obviously not wanting to stop the fun so soon. He steps back from you and you nearly collapse on your weak knees. You watch as he walks out of the closet.

Embarrassed you look over at Mt. Lady and she smiles at you. “Don’t worry I doubt anyone heard you getting it on.” You take a small breath of relief. “But that hickey is .Hard. To miss.