#and obligatory party bro

[thefreshprinceofjunes]

its my birthday, its a wednesday, and im turning 27

#video #and obligatory party bro

[trixibebe]

Chapters: 1/25 Fandom: 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Zhao Tianyou/Reader Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Reader, Kasuga Ichiban, Kamataki Eri (Yakuza), Mukouda Saeko, Adachi Koichi, Nanba Yu, Seong-Hui (Yakuza), Han Joon-gi | Kim Yeonsu (Yakuza 7), Majima Goro Additional Tags: Explicit Language, Alcohol, Smut, Reader-Insert, Canon-Typical Violence, Anxiety, some abandonment issues, some trust issues, Fluff, bit of angst, Smoking, foreign reader, not really a slow burn but it takes time to get there, Past Majima Goro/Reader, Romance

Summary:

You reluctantly moved to Isezaki Ijincho five years ago when you learned that your partner, Goro Majima was murdered. The initial devastation faded over time but you could never quite let go. You were left with unanswered questions but a faithful encounter with Ichiban Kasuga promised the key to some clarification on the circumstances of your past lover’s death. Tagging along with him on his quest you didn’t expect to fall so fast for the leader of the Yokohama Liumang. How will you handle all the feelings that keep on coming crashing down on you?

#tianyou zhao #tianyou zhao x reader #yakuza 7 #yakuza like a dragon #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza lad #rgg7 #obligatory zhao tag #mystuff #writing #bro its happening #my writing isnt the greatest #there is waay too much build up until zhao actually joins the party #but there are 10 chapters out now #you could take a peek starting from chapter 7 or 8 when he does eventually join #thats where the actual fun stuff starts #pls be nice its my first writing project :') #ichi-game

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (m) | myg

title: busted  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made. note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun! note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all! warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵‍💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍  drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est  word count: 18.8k gdi

-

-

Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher. 

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car. 

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time. 

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else. 

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root. 

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him. 

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive. 

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However. 

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household. 

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money. 

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways. 

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now. 

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer. 

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers. 

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.” 

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.” 

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it. 

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview. 

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back. 

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become. 

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down. 

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.” 

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret. 

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon. 

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees. 

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.” 

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets. 

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him. 

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all. 

And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you. 

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side. 

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…” 

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide. 

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back. 

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears. 

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.” 

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk. 

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.” 

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.” 

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?” 

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—” 

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it. 

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?” 

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to. 

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this. 

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.” 

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left. 

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight. 

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off, 

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”

You and your brother have a thousand differences. 

But one thing you two have in common? 

He’s just as stubborn as you are. 

A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.

Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you. 

Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them. 

Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”

Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows, 

“Why should I.”

“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately. 

Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.

No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.

It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”

“…So it’s like that?”

Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”

To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout, 

“The fuck it isn’t—” 

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...” 

You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior. 

Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops. 

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done. 

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired. 

And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished. 

When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.

“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.

But they don’t have to do anything. 

Except let you do this yourself. 

“Please.” 

After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again. 

But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,

“Trust me.”

Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts. 

When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence. 

While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times. 

However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.

What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.

It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.

But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay. 

“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers. 

And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.” 

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”

Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.

“Right.”

…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all? 

“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.” 

“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.” 

Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years. 

Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were. 

Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken, 

“You loved me?”

“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”

“What?”

Fuck. 

It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop. 

As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways. 

So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years. 

In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend. 

“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.” 

Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.

When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.

And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost. 

When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”

He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.” 

For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.” 

“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?” 

When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.” 

“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.” 

He laughs again. So do you. 

And the both of you break all at once. 

He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world. 

While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder. 

You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end. 

But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future. 

“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”

“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.

And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours. 

But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave. 

What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away. 

But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”

Still, Jungkook moves in. 

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness. 

You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”

“I promise.” 

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”

His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.” 

He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.” 

“I’ll be okay.” 

After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.

Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present. 

But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.

And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.

She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.

While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of. 

Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”

Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”

“He said he still loves me.”

Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”

“Dom…”

“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”

“He said it was a mistake.” 

“It sure as fuck was.” 

“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…” 

“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.” 

“I know.”

“Now.”

You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”

“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.” 

In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things, 

“What do I have now.”

As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”

Huh?

Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”

What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on— 

“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”

“K.”

Wait, what.

You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face. 

His name is molasses on your tongue.

What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer? 

He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets. 

“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.

Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need. 

Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.

When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?” 

Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”

“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”

“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.” 

Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.” 

“But it’s true.” 

His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,

“Makes me wanna take you home.” 

Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for. 

Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it. 

But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape. 

Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.” 

“Take you home?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.” 

If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide. 

If you didn’t have to wait. 

At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out. 

But why does he seem so—

You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like. 

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”

“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”

Huh.

What does he mean by—

“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”

You freeze. 

So does time. 

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.

Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait. 

There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless. 

And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.

Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?

“Babe?”

But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs. 

Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.

And yet he found a way to be with you one last time. 

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye. 

So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try. 

You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.

If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.

Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.

“Doll, let me know because—”

“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”

He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,

“Anything for you.”

That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.

“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.

And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel. 

You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.

But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it. 

Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will. 

And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.

If people are like seasons… 

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust. 

And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.

“Yoongi, I—”

You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth. 

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him. 

“Fuck.” 

He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair. 

If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now. 

It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars. 

Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you. 

“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.

Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.

Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest. 

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory. 

And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.

The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees. 

When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.

Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too

That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.

A plate. A bowl after that. 

Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.

You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long. 

Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”

“And I’d deserve it.” 

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.” 

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.” 

“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.” 

He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.

And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves. 

As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing. 

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides. 

But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly. 

You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.

But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes. 

“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.” 

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”

Silence. 

“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.” 

“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”

Shit, that was close. 

“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.” 

“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.” 

And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got. 

He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore. 

But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.

An apology.

“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.” 

Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years? 

This can’t be it. 

Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.” 

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.” 

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.” 

“…Oh.”

You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.

And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it. 

What the hell happened after he left your room?

Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?” 

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone. 

But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.” 

“Until they realized we kept going alone.” 

A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.” 

He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.” 

“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things. 

A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.” 

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.” 

True. “It could be worse, I think.” 

“How?” 

You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges. 

Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade? 

Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence. 

Together. 

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.” 

“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.” 

Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”

And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.” 

“Oh, really.”

“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that. 

“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”

“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”

The pause he makes weighs a ton. 

“And leave this to us when you came back.” 

So… He… 

Holy shit. 

You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out. 

But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible? 

…Is he paying loans? 

“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.

He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.”

Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t. 

“It’s whatever.”

He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to. 

And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways. 

So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is. 

And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too. 

Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend? 

Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.” 

“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.” 

“What.”

“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.” 

“I like it here, though.”

“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...” 

“Empty?” 

“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.” 

You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.” 

And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.

Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else. 

But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things. 

And regret others. 

A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?” 

“All the time.” 

“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.” 

“Hmm.” 

You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.” 

And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.” 

You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were. 

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least. 

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”

“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.” 

Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.

It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back. 

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.  

…Calling should be okay, right?

Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you... 

Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.

Fuck. 

Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.

And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can. 

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”

You hear a low grunt before he responds. 

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.” 

Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?” 

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.” 

“Okay.”  

There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through. 

“Spoke to Kook.” 

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.” 

Ah. No finish line in sight.

But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.

“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.” 

“When you get it.”

You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”

“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”

“See? Claiming shit already.”

You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.” 

“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”

“Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate. 

Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What.”

Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.” 

“…I see.”

Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,

“Not at you, doll.”

Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”

“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”

You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.” 

There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.

“I was there first, doll.” 

He what?

“Wait… You were?” 

He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke. 

Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway. 

Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.

“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.” 

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.” 

They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him? 

Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams. 

Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling. 

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.” 

“You okay?”

Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”

“Wait—” 

“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most. 

Yoongi: Missed Call

All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you. 

And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself. 

But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before. 

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?

Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?

Yoongi: Incoming Call

With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort. 

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.” 

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.  

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”

Huh? 

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean… 

As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note. 

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.

And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.

For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s. 

And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.

It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened. 

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked. 

But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen. 

And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you. 

Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts. 

As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place. 

Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—

“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?” 

Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen. 

Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.

“How’s Jimin?”

“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.

“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.” 

“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?” 

When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start. 

As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,

“A month.”

“...Damn.” 

Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game. 

“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?” 

That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.” 

“That’s good, at least.”

As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat. 

Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.

And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.

It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.

“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.” 

If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.” 

That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?” 

A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.” 

“Mm.” 

That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants. 

Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public. 

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.” 

Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.

Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes. 

But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?” 

He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?” 

Huh. “Me? How?” 

Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.” 

All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer. 

“Not even denying it. I like this.” 

“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again. 

The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start. 

“Break? Or what do you feel like?” 

You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.” 

“Mmk.” 

Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.

Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.

“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.” 

“You can definitely be upset.” 

You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all. 

Only warmth. And understanding. 

“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.” 

There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time. 

Him? Being more upset than you?

You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way. 

But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause. 

It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.

Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present, 

“What are you gonna say?” 

Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again. 

If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot. 

You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴 

You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time 

When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders. 

They’re lighter. 

How is that possible? You’re still sad. 

But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing. 

Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out. 

Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.

You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again. 

The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.

Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says. 

Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you

And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this. 

You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later

Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob. 

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle. 

Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.

The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close. 

The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone. 

“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers. 

And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours. 

“You will.” 

Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.” 

His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.

“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.” 

“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.” 

“Oh? The luckiest then.” 

“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.” 

With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food. 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

One week turns into three. 

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought. 

“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay.”

“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”

“So?”

“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about— 

Oh. Right. 

…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of. 

“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”

He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,

“Go get it, doll.”

Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision. 

Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”

“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”

“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons. 

“Okay.”

To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day. 

Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.

And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope. 

But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.

Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good. 

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”

You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”

“K. Have fun!”

When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.

Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere. 

On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.

When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up. 

Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too. 

However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded. 

Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob. 

One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time. 

But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…

There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size. 

No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.

Painful.

As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo. 

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back? 

A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all. 

Three months. 

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds. 

It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else. 

How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up? 

You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer. 

A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels. 

Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either. 

To the point where it’s starting to scare you. 

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly. 

But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling. 

Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.

It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.

But that night in his kitchen… 

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.

You can’t.

He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.

Your finger moves a bit closer.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.

But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.

When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now. 

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight. 

How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know? 

Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong. 

“Hello?”

But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable. 

As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.” 

Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.

You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.

However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted. 

“Babe, tell me. Now.” 

“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—” 

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?” 

Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement. 

Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.” 

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.” 

Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.

“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.” 

That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”  

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”

After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner. 

And your chest has never felt lighter.

Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats. 

If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.

And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.

It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing. 

But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.

As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.

“Fucking hustler.”

No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all. 

In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours. 

Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.

Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left. 

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless. 

“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.” 

With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,

“Anything for you.”

With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.

“You still have to gimme chips.” 

Maybe not quite everything.

Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”

“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”

Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.

As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.” 

When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?” 

“I just… You read.” 

To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window. 

Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”

“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”

He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.” 

Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”

Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.

And you glitch when you realize why.

Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.” 

He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.

Way too familiar.

Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?

No no no. Why is he taking you there? 

You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.

All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.” 

He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.” 

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?” 

He freezes. 

Which gives you a chance. 

Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.

Almost everything.

“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.” 

Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done. 

“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”

He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”

Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close. 

You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.

Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.

Yoongi’s still way too quiet. 

So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.

“Stop.” 

You do. 

And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive. 

The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door. 

Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place. 

If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—” 

You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want. 

“Please what.” 

Everything you want. 

Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”

“Huh?”

A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”

All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways. 

But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap. 

“The fuck.”

Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines. 

You don’t know what’s coming over you. 

Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.

“Babe—”

Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.

“Are you su—”

“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum. 

Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…

Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding. 

What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?

When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?” 

“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh. 

Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.” 

Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance. 

“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”

He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”

“This.”

Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips. 

He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”

And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too. 

Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.

“Holy fuck.” 

You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight. 

And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher. 

“So fucking filthy...” 

You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls. 

“Fuck!”

There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses. 

Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin. 

Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus. 

“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”

You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.

Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time. 

And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.

But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time. 

“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.” 

You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”

“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,

“I’m fucking you with them on.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything. 

You know your panties are soaked. 

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit. 

But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night. 

Perfect. 

“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you. 

He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.” 

You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means. 

But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot. 

The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want. 

He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath, 

“So fucking perfect.” 

“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”

“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.” 

“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,

“Almost made me come.” 

“Be for real.” 

“Damn serious.” 

The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”

“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.” 

“Fuck me like you missed me.” 

A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck. 

Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between. 

“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”

“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”

Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple. 

His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”

Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved. 

“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”

“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.” 

He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”

You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,

“I said. Don’t move.” 

“But—Yoongi!” 

You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him. 

“Uh uh.”

And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes. 

You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling. 

Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.

If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops. 

When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure. 

All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”

Suddenly.

He stops. 

And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”

The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,

“What’d you say?” 

“Plea—Baby!” 

“Huh?” 

Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again. 

And again.

You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.  

In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—

“This is what you wanted, huh.” 

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?” 

Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided. 

“Then fucking beg.” 

He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out. 

To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.

You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”

“Need you, too.” 

He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming. 

Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips. 

When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides. 

Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too. 

Because his eyes speak volumes. 

They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size. 

But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem. 

And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window. 

You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”

When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”

You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”

“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—” 

Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”

“Now swallow.” 

As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.

“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.

“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.” 

“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.” 

Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe. 

“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.” 

Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”

When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better. 

It’s not. 

But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds. 

Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke. 

“Feel so good—”

When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.” 

What is he— 

You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass. 

“Yoongi—”

You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make. 

“Uh uh. Stay like that.” 

“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”

“There you go.” 

The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.

But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.

You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.

“Goddamn.” 

Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back. 

Oh, fuck!

Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—

“Come here.” 

He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat. 

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel. 

Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear, 

“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.” 

When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—

You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright. 

But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.” 

“Yes!”

“Good.”

He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs. 

Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk. 

Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise. 

It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again. 

When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.” 

When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it. 

“Fuck.”

His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver. 

You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.

Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain. 

“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep. 

“It missed you, too.”

Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips. 

Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple  a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.

But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard. 

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”  

Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.” 

As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips. 

“Again.” 

Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying. 

Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true. 

The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands, 

“Again.” 

You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want. 

Oh, if they could witness you now. 

You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.” 

He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection. 

Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months. 

When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house. 

Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there. 

It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back. 

And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,

“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.” 

Oh, shit!

Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things. 

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes. 

Yeah. Stuff like that. 

“I’m her favorite.” 

Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes. 

Does he feel at home, too? 

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next. 

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore. 

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets. 

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern. 

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.” 

“K.” 

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.” 

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”  

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.” 

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure. 

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“S’ok.” 

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.” 

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.” 

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper, 

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed. 

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak, 

“I always do, babe.” 

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering. 

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this. 

“That’s my fault.” 

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.” 

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care. 

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.” 

“You gave me tonight.” 

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give, 

“A little longer is nothing.” 

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again. 

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.” 

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.” 

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.” 

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.” 

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul. 

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds. 

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others. 

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window. 

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.” 

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?” 

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.” 

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips. 

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.” 

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours. 

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface. 

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones. 

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side. 

“Not at all.” 

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head. 

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss. 

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light. 

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything. 

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”  

—

—

—

tbc. :) 

—

a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)  A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.  A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

#and the wait is finally over sheeeesh! #bts #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #yoongi fic #yoongi x you #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #*latest #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #3tan10 #i hope y'all are ok with how much is in here hahahah #yoongi

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊 - 𝙽𝚊ï𝚟𝚎𝚝é|𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Weed, vaginal fingering, Sero speaking Spanish, hints of Bi Mina and her thirsting over you, allusions to possible future gangbang

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 2,306

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes usage of weed/marijuana, Google Translate Spanish, use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: I’ll use this when the explicit mention is over(tho there will be small references after that point) ✯ ✯ ✯; The reader is described to have a cat(-like) quirk

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

Hanta breathes out the smoke and drags his fingertips down her arm as she cuddles into his side. She flicks her tail in contentment.

“Here, baby,” He smiles lazily as he holds the pipe to her lips. Humming lowly, she happily breathes in and holds it in her lungs for a moment before breathing out, feeling all the tension leave her body.

“This is fun, Hanta.” She grins up at her boyfriend.

“Damn right, you’re one of the best smoking partners I’ve had in a while, gatita,” he chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey!” Denki cries indignantly, “I thought I was your favorite smoking partner!” He leans back against the couch and over-exaggeratedly pouts, even huffing loudly as he makes a big motion of crossing his arms.

“Denki!” Hanta laughs out, trying to calm his giggle fit before he speaks again, “You are an excellent smoking partner, I promise, hermano,” he says through the tail end of his giggles, “but I can’t exactly shotgun you, now can I? Nor can I have you up against me like this,” He emphasizes by curling his arm around Y/n’s waist and kissing her lips.

“I mean-” Denki throws his arms up like he’s stating the most obvious fact in the world “-you could!” His exclamation makes all parties present burst out laughing, even Denki himself.

“Denki, bro, if you wanna cuddle up to someone, I’m always free!” Eiji calls out to his “kind-of-boyfriend” and holds his arm open to beckon the blonde into his side.

“See?! Ei loves me!” The electric blonde calls out dramatically as he climbs into Eiji’s hold. Everyone chuckles again at his dramatics and mostly return to the conversation.

“Sure do, babe,” the redhead chuckles and takes a hit before shotgunning Denki. He earns a pleased giggle once the smaller boy exhales. Hitoshi leans his head away from Eiji’s shoulder to chuckle at the boy before plopping his head back down on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ay Dios mío,” Hanta fondly rolls his eyes with a laugh at his mejor amigo. “A very dramatic gilipollas.” He jokes, fake whispering as if a secret to his pretty kitty, earning another indignant noise from the electric blonde and a giggle from his favorite girl. Denki didn’t understand what his friend just said but he can guess that it was something that garners his noise of offense.

Mina has Katsuki’s head in her lap as she combs her manicured nails through his hair, eliciting soft groans every now and then as he lets his Weed Haze take over his consciousness.

“You still awake, booboo?” She asks, lightly poking his cheek and not getting much more than a grunt and a nose wrinkle in terms of dissuasion.

“Yea, I’m still here, Pinky.” He grumbles, opening his red eyes, now no longer just his irises making her laugh.

“Alright, just wanted to make sure,” she leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, getting another nose wrinkle when he feels her lipgloss stick to his skin. It was always a sight when Katsuki smoked, he would get 50x more affectionate and would even cuddle up to people and accept their affection in turn, like he is now. The self-proclaimed Bakusquad was always happy when they got him to smoke so that they could all their their ‘Katsu-Cuddles’ as Denki deemed them. He still blames the effects on still practically being a ‘Baby Stoner’, also a name by Denki, even though he’s been partaking for a good few months now.

Y/n purrs at the feeling of her boyfriend’s hand on her waist and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Hanta strokes her side and curls his hand further around her, now reaching further to the front of her hip. Her leg then stretches out a bit, unconsciously, to accommodate his hand, so it can slide over her more easily. Seeing how relaxed and buzzed Y/n is, Hanta finishes up the last little bit of his blunt and then shifts to hold her more comfortably.

✯ ✯ ✯

Now, he has his leg propped up against the back of the couch and the other extended onto the floor with her between his thighs, her own legs mostly aligned with his, her leg thrown over his as it hangs off the couch, her back comfortably resting against his chest with her head laying against his shoulder. His arm wraps around her middle and his fingertips lightly trace over her lower belly, not moving anywhere else.

Her hips squirm a bit at how close his fingers are to where she wanted him and he, thankfully, decided not to tease her. He reaches his other arm around her to the tops of her thighs and drags his fingers to inch her comfy skirt up to expose her pretty little black, white, and yellow panties that she had asked Momo to make. Mina gave a playful hum when she saw the Cellophane-themed panties and whistles at Y/n, making the girl blush.

“Damn, girlie, lovin’ the Cellophane merch you’re workin’! And does that say ‘Ay Papi’ on the waistband?!” She teases which makes her blush deeper but the embarrassment goes away nearly the instant that she feels fingers slide up and down her panty-clad slit. A pleasured breath leaves her as her boyfriend’s fingers dance along her dampening cunt.

“F-fuck..!” Y/n’s voice escapes in a high-pitched moan as Hanta’s fingers focus on her clit. She moans out in surprise when he pinches it lightly and grinds her panties into the pleasurable nub. Her panties feel rough against the sensitive skin of her throbbing cunny and it makes her whine. Her tail flicks at the feeling and wraps around her and Hanta’s side-by-side thighs making him chuckle.

Enjoying her little moans and whines, Hanta speeds up his ministrations against her clitty and makes sure to grind her panties into it. Y/n throws her head back against his shoulder as more whines escape her and her hands weakly grip onto whatever fabric she could reach with her still hazy mind. Her left clutches at the couch while her right flies back to grip the fabric of her boyfriend’s cutoff tank top. He smirks at the reactions she gives him and decides to take pity on his poor little Kitty.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’mma make you feel good, okay?” He speaks against her sensitive kitty ear on top of her head that twitches at his breath fanning over it and shifts the h/c fur and makes her shudder.

“Please…” She whines out, shifting her hips and clenching around nothing. He chuckles again, the husky sound in her ear sends a noticeable shiver down her spine.

“Ohh, poor baby, she looks cold~!” Mina cries faux sympathy lining her words, “You’d better warm her up, Papi.” He playfully rolls his eyes at her teasing but proceeds nonetheless. He runs his fingers to the bottom of her poor soaked little cunny and drags upwards until he reaches the hem of her pretty panties with a cutie little black bow adorning the band. From there, he dips his hand under the fabric and moves down to play with her puffy pussy lips directly.

Her hips arch up at the contact and her leg thrown over her lover’s flexes straighter. She’s not usually this sensitive but the plant, that she’s now donned her favorite, made her far more sensitive and acutely aware of all Hanta’s skillful touches. Cute little moans fill the air as the tape-quirked boy slides his middle finger through her slick folds up to her sensitive little bud, flicking it every time he meets it.

“P-please… Hanta…” Y/n mewls while he still only teases her when he just barely dips his fingertip into her entrance before moving on.

“Please what, pretty kitty? I can’t do anything if I don’t know what you want..” He punctuates his teasing sentence with a soft kiss to the base of her twitching ear.

“Want… Want you to touch me…” Her tail’s grip on their thighs tightens and twitches with her near-desperate whining.

“But I am touching you, princesa.” His noncooperation draws more whines from her throat while his touches feel so, so good but are just not enough.

“In.. Inside..! Please!” She practically sobs out the request before her desperation is cut off by a pleased keen when his third and fourth fingers finally, finally, breach her opening. Her moans are accentuated by her loud purrs. Her lover decided to not start out slow, though he doesn’t set a particularly fast pace at first.

He rocks his hand into her sex hard and fast enough to have her bucking her hips into his palm and letting out high-pitched moans. He smirks and speeds up his pace to get her whining and drunk on the sensations of him getting her off on just his fingers. Y/n’s chest rises and falls with her heavy breaths at the intense pleasure she’s getting just from being fingerfucked. Granted, her boyfriend has magical fingers, it’s never been this intense before. The herb has really affected her, so it seems.

“You feeling good, bebita?” Hanta asks in a teasing tone as he flexes his wrist and curls his fingers at the same moment and presses deliciously into the spongy spot inside her that has her seeing stars after the pleasure he’s already given her.

“Yes.. Yes!!” She moans out in a cry, her tail straightens out like an arrow and twitches about like crazy. He then moves his other hand from where he’s been palming himself at all her gorgeous little sounds and slides it around her body to her front. His hand slithers down her form, setting her nerves on fire from her sensitivity from both his fingerfucking and the weed in her system.

Her hips buck up and a shocked cry leaves her when his long fingers find her clitty and start setting loose, slow circles around her swollen little button. Hanta’s deep chuckle vibrates against Y/n’s back and into her whole being as she arches back against him. With a devious smirk, he dips down to nip and kiss and suck on her neck.

“H-Han.. Hanta..!” Y/n’s voice trembles with arousal and need and her ears fold flat against her head. Her cheeks are flushed and a desperate need shines in her glassy eyes with her unshed tears of too much pleasure.

“Cum for me, Mi Princesa. Go on and cum. Déjate sentir bien, gatita. Cum so fuckin hard, gatita. You wanna show our friends how pretty you look when you cum? Muéstrales tu cara bonita, Mi Linda Gatita.” Hanta groans against her skin as he trails his lips up to the juncture of her jaw, the place that makes her weak.

“Yes, Hanta..! Yesyesyes!!” Y/n practically screams as her hips buck up off the couch and soaks her pretty panties with her cum as she gushes around her boyfriend’s fingers. Her cross and roll to the back of her head as her mouth gapes in a perfect O and her claws come out and scratch line rips into the couch cushion and back and her whole body trembles from the intensity of her orgasm. Her ears twitch nonstop against her head and her tail shakes wildly as it coils around Hanta’s arm tightly and her hips shake as her pretty cunny drenches her favorite panties.

“Holy shit..” Mina chuckles in amazement at the sight before her. She doesn’t know who she’s more jealous of in this moment. On the one hand, Y/n clearly just had one of the most intense orgasms of her life, but on the other hand, Hanta gets to give that to her, not just now, but he gets to play with her pretty pussy whenever he wants.

Her look of wonderment is mirrored on Denki, Eijirou, and Hitoshi, as well. That show was stunning. Seeing Y/n make such a pretty face when she came was like a glimpse of heaven to them. No doubt, Katsuki would have had the same reaction had he not fallen asleep in Mina’s lap after a few minutes of Hanta teasing Y/n’s perfect slit over her panties, no matter how hard he tried to fight against it(he didn’t really, he didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until it was too late).

“You were absolutely right, I think that’s the prettiest cum face I’ve ever seen.” Mina breathed with her eyes still wide.

“Right? Mi Bebita Bonita has the prettiest faces when she feels good, isn’t that right, Mi Linda Gatita?” He purrs with a smug smirk at his friend as he presses a kiss to his baby’s cheek. His pretty kitty is too worn out to answer, only able to heave for breath limply against Hanta’s chest with a fucked out expression on her pretty pretty face. The only noises that leave her are pathetic little moans and whines of overstimulation as Hanta gently rubs his fingers over her little cunny as if it’s a soothing motion.

“Damn… And you’re really keeping such a pretty kitty all to yourself, huh? Can’t blame you, man…” Hitoshi lightly teases, even while he can’t tear his eyes away from where they can all see Hanta’s fingers still gliding over her poor little overstimmed pussy.

“Well, whether I keep her all to myself is ultimately up to this Bonita Gatita. Who knows? Maybe she’d be up for a little… group bonding. We can ask once she’s not so blissed out from my fingers in this pretty cunny, sí?” He smirks over at his friends and finally slides his hand out of her soaked panties that make a wet ‘plap’ against her sensitive pussy and makes her flinch and whine from the sudden sensation.

“In the meantime…” He deviously smirks again, holding up his glistening hand in a display, “Who wants a taste?”

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog

#tw exhibitionism #cw exhibitionism #tw public sex #cw public sex #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #spiderlily spells

[eternal-moss]

Also obligatory Kabruposting

Spoilers for ep17 under the cut. Kabru moments that made me lose it

Kabru fans around the world were destroyed by this. The gentle stroke after his head was split open :( there were some brutal deaths, it’s hard to compare them, but his was so sudden.

^person who is definitely not traumatised

Ueueueueueueueueueue. Ueue.

^person who is most certainly not traumatised

Kabru’s party when killing people :D

Kabru’s party when eating eggs D:

(I love how horrified they all look. Holm, I love you but we aren’t forgetting the undyne short, that is easily way more disgusting than eating harpy eggs)

Look at him. Bro I just love Kabru :,)

#Kabruposting #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Kabru dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi #Dunmeshi

[orbitalpirate]

What are the cute little nicknames the 9 have for each other?

This is going to be such a long one because I have so many thoughts so obligatory read more

Jamie: Sam calls him brother sometimes, Dani obviously calls him amigo, Colin calls him worm sometimes as a callback or Jame, Isaac calls him Tartty Party, Richard calls him JamieTartt a lot all one word, Jan calls him Englishman, Thierry is terrible at nicknames calls him bro bc he used to call him bra bc he used to call him brassiere bc he used to call him pasties bc he used to call him pastry bc he used to call him Jam Tart bc his name is Jamie Tartt, Moe calls him Golden Boy

Sam: Jamie calls him my brother or my boy, Dani calls him Sammy Boy, Colin calls him Obie, Isaac calls him Sam the Man, Richard calls him Sanya, Jan calls him Sammuel, Thierry back at it again with drum machine bc he used to call him rhythm section bc he used to call him rhyme time bc he used to call him Sam Jam, Moe calls him Prince Sam

Dani: Jamie calls him Muchacho, Sam calls him Rojas, Colin calls him Dan the Man, Isaac calls him Ace, Richard calls him A.B. short for alter boy after they bonded over the realization that they were both alter boys, Jan calls him Believer bc of a long fight they got in about the existence of ghosts, Thierry calls him BB bc he used to call him baby boy bc he used to call him junior bc he used to call him Isaac jr bc he used to call him rolos bc he used to call him rojo bc Rojas, Bumbercatch calls him Lightning

Colin: Jamie calls him Col or worm, Sam calls him Hugh Grant, Dani calls him Colin the Chameleon (associated with my personal belief of the fan song for colin), Isaac calls him so many things including Babe Honey Bestie GBF Hughes Col and many others, Richard calls him Koala, Jan calls Goldfish, Thierry calls him seven bc he called him prime bc he calls him primary color bc he used to call hum color wheel bc he used to him Hue, Bumbercatch calls him Star

Isaac: Jamie calls him big man, Sam calls him captain, Dani calls him captain, Colin also calls him so many things Brother Bear I-Man Mcadoo Best Boyo, Richard calls him Mcadoo, Jan calls him my captain, Thierry actually just calls Isaac Captain, Moe calls him hotstuff and top man

Richard: (I should say he hates all nicknames) Jamie calls him Francois, Sam calls him the sommelier, Dani calls him Chee, Colin calls him The Shard, Isaac calls him Dick Law, Jan calls him Liefje, Thierry calls him sexy bc he used to call him hotty bc he used to call him hot chick bc he used to call him chicken sandwich bc he used to call him chicken cordon bleu bc he used to call him Cordon, Moe calls him Fancy Pants

Jan: Jamie calls him dutchman, Sam calls him Dutchy, Dani calls him Jam, Colin calls him Giant, Isaac calls him Tree, Richard calls him amour heart babe baby Richard calls Jan anything he can get in there, Thierry calls him Dead man as a threat that he better not hurt Richard (Jan finds this hilarious), Moe calls him Blondie

Thierry: Jamie calls him Zorro, Sam calls him Zman, Dani calls him brother, Colin calls him Terrence, Isaac calls him Montreal, Richard calls him frere, Jan calls him Masked Man, Bumbercatch calls him Goalman

Bumbercatch: Jamie calls him Bumbie, Sam calls him catch, Dani calls him Benedict, Colin calls him Moseph, Isaac calls him Bee, Richard calls him MBP (like mvp but mb for moe Bumbercatch), Jan calls him Team Dork, Thierry calls him honey, bc he used to call him bumberbee (many people think they are dating, they absolutely are not)

#asks #yes i made this janchard with a hint of bumbadoo of course i did #jamie calls colin love fight me to the death about it

[old-hyper-super-clover]

I had already started posting Twisted Wonderland content, but I wanna formerly introduce my MC Clover for this fandom, too. She is a Yuu-sona/ Ramshackle student, with the exception of having small magical potential.

I made an intro sheet like they have in-game and also continued this Magicam post kinda thingy bc I think it's fun

Also to notice, I'm aware of the in-game ages but PERSONALLY, I enjoy the fandom more scaling up everyone to fit my age. If that's not your cup of tea, pls spare your energy and go vibe somewhere else💕

Enjoy and feel free to ask about her, she's my little bbygirl~

Clover: Hi there... Name's Clover. Cater-senpai kindly forced me to make a Magicam account, so here's the obligatory intro post!

Grade: Freshman

Birthday: June 26 (Cancer)

Age: 16 (canon age) / 22 (HC age)

Height: 173cm (canon) / 180cm (HC)

Dominant hand: Right

Homeland: Germany (Earth)

Club: Board Games Club

Best subject: Astrology

Hobbies: Baking, meeting friends

Pet peeves: Chewing noises

Favourite food: Pierogi

Least favourite food: Tuna

Talent: Hugs :>

Uhh... A description of myself... I dunno, I got isekai'd here with Violet and Berri. I'm kinda shy at first but give me a cookie or two and I'll probably fall in love with you.

----

comments:

Cater: Ayyyy, nice one, cLOVE~! Welcome to the cam 💕

Clover: Yeee... I'm cringing every time I see the post, thank you

Ace: hey, I know that face from somewhere... Oh right, it's my favourite whimpy classmate :)

Clover: where's the report button again?

Ace: report me and I'll come stand outside your window.

Clover: FUCK NO

Kalim: OH MY GOD WE ALMOST SHARE A BIRTHDAY?!?

Kalim: That's so cool!!! I KNEW we share some kind of connection!!

Kalim: Aaaah my gosh we'll have to throw a giant birthday party that'll go two whole days, one day Scarabia, one day Ramshackle, and we'll dance and sing and generally become the best

Clover: ... The best what?

Kalim: oh no i must've reached the character limit, I meant best friends

Kalim: Jamil also told me I shouldn't spam your comment section

Kalim: he's been looking at your post for 10 minutes now, do you think he's angry?

Kalim: OH, he's smiling, so maybe he's just planning an epic birthday party for us?!

Jamil: K A L I M. SHUT IT.

Jade: Oh my, ten minutes seem like quite a time to be looking at this few words, hm?

Jamil: I fail to understand what any of you mean.

Floyd: bro can't even think of an excuse, heheh

Clover: could you not bully people in my comment section this is a wholesome place

Ruggie: Your description high-key giving me puppy vibes

Clover: your point? U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠U

Ruggie: valid. (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ᴥ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ⁠ʋ⁠)

Klee: Hi Clover ✋

Clover: KLEEEEEEEYYYY ✋💕

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland mc #mytwistedart #tricolouredwristbands #clovers magicam #i hope the magicam format isn't actually cringe #i like bein silly with the guys #also you might ask yourself... #who is that Klee guy? #well #you'll have to be on the look out for his very own intro sheet i suppose...

[carolinaboy34]

“Frat”

I was bent over the arm of the futon, the wood cutting into my abs, while he railed me from behind. My head was resting on the cushion, rubbing against the rough material with each thrust he made into me, my arms trying to gain purchase on anything to be able to push back and get him in as deep as possible. I vaguely recall the door to his room being open and people passing by and occasionally cheering him on. He continued to fuck me wildly, ramming into me hard and fast, beer splashing onto my back as he gestured to his friends.

I was invited to a party at a fraternity on campus one weekend by my roommate. He was friends with one of the brothers, and they were having a big bash to celebrate something important in the fraternity’s history. George had been interested in pledging the frat early in the year and decided against it, but he remained friendly with some of the members. They lived in a huge house off campus in fraternity square, where most of the fraternities were located. It used to be the really ritzy part of town where all the rich people lived and built mansions, many of which had been converted into fraternity houses.

This was the Rho Epsilon Chi fraternity, who apparently had a rich history on campus and nationwide. They went by REX, which was a little weird, since Rho is a P in the Greek alphabet, but I suppose REX sounded better than PEX. They were a big fraternity with over 100 members, but only a select group lived in the house - mostly upperclassmen and legacies, the ones who had dads and brothers as alumni.

As we were walking up the front path to the house, we saw a group of members standing off to the side of the front door smoking. I don’t usually pay much attention to that, because I think it’s kind of gross, but when I saw him, I did a double take. He was so very cute, with his tight curly blonde hair, blushing cheeks and black stud earring. He was wearing the obligatory fraternity sweatshirt and black skinny jeans, with what looked like the golf team uniform shirt underneath. We caught eyes as I walked by, and he gave me the dude-bro head nod then turned back to his friends.

George and I made it into the fraternity and immediately got sucked into the crowd of people in the lobby and main floor of the house, which was beautiful. Carved wood paneling, iron and glass chandeliers, stained glass windows and huge portraits of old, important members of the fraternity were everywhere. They had a DJ set up at the end of the great room on the main floor, and a bar at the other end mainly serving beer from a keg. We got our red cups and filled them up, then began to wander around and see who was there. We made our way over to the dance floor and started to dance to the music, just warming up to the party, when the cutie from the front yard came up and introduced himself as Colin.

“Hey, I’m Colin. What’s your name?”

“Drew, Nice to meet you. This is George.”

He glanced at George then dismissed him and turned back to me. “Need another drink?”

I glanced down at my cup and saw it was nearly empty. “Sure.”

“Come this way!” and he grabbed my arm and dragged me off the dance floor and toward the grand staircase at the side of the great room. I looked back to George, who had a huge smile on his face as he waved me off. We made our way upstairs to the rooms and the maze of hallways that contained them, turning right and left much more quickly than I could remember, until we reached our apparent destination - a large corner room with a couple of desks, a couch or two, large TV with a PS5, and a long table in the middle currently being used as a beer pong table. The two teams now competing were yelling and celebrating as they scored points, and Colin took me over to the side near one of the desks serving as a bar. He poured each of us a Fireball shot and a couple more beers.

“Cheers to new friends!” Then he clanked our glasses together before taking the shot in one move. I followed closely behind, enjoying the burn of the cinnamon whiskey as it went down my throat. He got us two more shots, then we turned to watch the game as he began to talk to me.

“So, Drew. What year are you?”

“Freshman”

“What’s your major?”

“Pre-med”

“Where are you from?”

This went on for a while, and I would have normally been bored stiff, but he was too cute to get bored. We got to know each other as we watched the beer pong game. He was from Chicago and came here as a legacy, his father and grandfather both graduating from here and belonging to the fraternity. He was a junior and was majoring in finance, hoping to take over for his dad at the family company one day.

He got us each another shot and more beer just as the game was ending and we were sucked into playing the next round. I’d never played, so he had to teach me quickly. Basically, throw ping pong balls into the other team’s cups, and the first team to get one into each of their opponent’s cups wins. Yeah, and the cups are filled with beer, and you have to drink it if a ball lands in one on your side. They had other rules that I would have to learn as we went along, but that was the gist of it.

We started playing and were doing pretty well. Colin and I took turns shooting, and we were up 4 - 2 when I shot the next ball and it missed the table entirely.

“Air Ball!!” Everyone yelled, which meant I had to take a shot of Fireball.

He grabbed two more shots and pledged to not let me suffer alone, so we took our shots and we got back into the game. He was getting very affectionate - hugging me when we got a ball in a cup, whispering encouragement in my ear as I was preparing to shoot, and it felt really nice. He was skinny and slightly taller than me, but he had a firm grip and what I could tell were tight muscles under his sweatshirt. The game went on and it came down to the final shot - we were tied at 9 each, so the next team to get a ball won. It was my shot, and Colin got behind me and was rubbing my shoulders, giving me encouragement. All I could focus on was his firm touch and occasional rub of his crotch against my ass as I lined up the throw. I let it loose, and the ball hung in the air for what seemed forever before arching over the table and landing in the last cup on their side! We won! I jumped up and threw my arms in the air, screaming for our victory, and Colin grabbed me, spun me around and hugged me hard and tight, our bodies full against each other.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yeah, sure”

So we walked out of the room and found a staircase in the back of the house that went down to the back yard. We went out into the cool night air and the relative quiet of the dark yard. He got a cigarette out and lit it up, then offered one to me. I usually rebuff that without a second thought. But he looked so hot smoking it, and I had taken so many shots my judgment was foggy, so I grabbed one, which he lit for me. I coughed immediately then learned to only take really small puffs. It didn’t taste terrible, and we stood out there talking and smoking together. There were landscape lights in the yard that cast a warm shadow across his face and his angular features, and I started to get lost in his energy. I heard what he was saying but didn’t process it very well. I leaned into him slightly and looked up at his sparkling eyes before kissing him on the mouth. He squeaked a little then started to kiss back and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight. The kiss lasted for a few moments before he broke it.

“Wow. You’re a good kisser”

“Thanks! So are you.” Hoping to not sound like a schoolgirl with a crush, I said “I saw you when we were walking in the house and about tripped over myself. You’re so very cute.”

“Likewise! I told my friends that you were mine tonight. That’s why we hang out in the front yard - to pick our mates for the night before you get in and get taken.”

“Well, I’m really happy you picked me.”

“Want another drink?”

“Sure!”

We made our way back into the house and on the main floor over to the bar. Colin grabbed a pitcher of beer and told me to follow him. As we were walking through the main floor, I saw George dancing with a girl and we shot each other a thumbs up before Colin and I made our way back up the stairs. We navigated the same maze of hallways until we got back to the beer pong room, but he just went in and grabbed what was left of the Fireball before leaving the room and dragging me back to the same stairs we used to go out, but we went up the stairs to the third floor. There was just one long hallway on that floor and what appeared to be about 6 rooms, so we went to the middle room on one side and went inside. It was a typical college dorm with a TV and PS5, a futon and a couple of chairs, a desk, closet and small fridge. He set the pitcher down and poured us two more shots.

“Cheers to smoking in the front yard!” Then we took the shots and slammed the glasses down on the desk. We stood up and had a moment of silence, looking into each other's eyes, before he leaned down into me and kissed me again. We kissed for a long time, rubbing against each other as our arms roamed over each other’s back and necks. He reached down and grabbed my ass, pulling me in tight. I could feel his hard on against me when he did that, so I ground my crotch into him so he could feel me too. I grabbed his ass too, and we stood there kissing and humping into each other for a long while. I heard movement outside his door and glanced over, but only saw shadows moving down the hall, so we kept kissing. He stopped and grabbed our beers, then took me over to the futon and sat down and patted the seat next to him. I took about half the beer down my throat in one swallow then dropped down maybe a little too firmly, and we leaned into each other and sloshed our beers a little bit onto our shirts.

“Damn! Better take these off before it soaks through!” he said. So he reached over and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and raised it up over my arms and head then tossed it to the side, before he did the same with his. He had a tight upper body with tiny nipples and smooth, pale skin, no body fat and narrow hips with abs and a V down into the waist of his skinny jeans.

“Mmm. You look incredible” he said before leaning back over, kissing my neck and pushing against me some, causing me to fall back onto the rough cushion of the futon. He followed me down and was nearly on top of me, and he continued to kiss my neck, suck on my ears and run his tongue along my jawline. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him fully on top of me, drawing my knees up and bringing my legs around him before using my heels to push his crotch into me.

He stopped kissing me and looked me in the eye, a bright sparkle in his expression. I just nodded a little and raised an eyebrow. He leaned down and started kissing me again but kissed along my jaw, down my neck, across my chest (stopping to kiss and bite my right nipple) down my abs to the waist of the pants. He undid the belt and button before hooking the waist in his fingers and pulling them down. He got my pants off, and I dropped my legs back down along his sides. He ran his hands up my legs to my underwear covered crotch before rubbing over my hard on and squeezing tightly. You could see a drop of precum soak through the underwear material, and he leaned down and sucked at the spot, pulling the liquid out and swallowing loudly. He hooked the waistband of my underwear and pulled them down and off, exposing me to the air and his hungry gaze. He grabbed my dick and stroked it with his right hand, his left playing lightly with my scrotum and balls. I reached up and grabbed his head and pulled him down onto my dick, which he took into his warm, wet mouth. He ran his tongue over the length of me as he took it all in his mouth, the head lodging in his throat before he pulled off and went back down. He started to pull harder on my balls, which elicited a loud moan from me and spurred him on to be a little rougher with me.

He was sucking me fully, raising and lowering on my dick, slobbering all over it and pulling on my balls. I could feel his spit pooling around his hand on my sac and running down to my taint. He would alternate between pulling on my scrotum and rubbing his fingers over my swollen taint, the drool making his movements slick and wonderful. He stood up quickly, leaving me naked and alone on the couch before he pulled his jeans and underwear down his sculpted legs and off, bending at the waist and showing me his tight ass and hairless hole. He turned around and showed me his hard on. It was perfect, pale with a narrow pink head, about 7 inches long and a good girth with veins running up and down the length. It was bouncing with his heart beat over a pair of balls in a smooth sac, hanging loosely underneath. I jumped up and into his arms and started kissing him more, our dicks rubbing against each other between our bodies.

We stood naked in his room kissing, him responding to the occasional cat call from the hallway with a thumbs up or OK sign. He was rubbing my ass, kneading my butt cheeks and spreading them open, exposing my tight hole to the cool air of his room. He walked us over to the side of the futon and turned me around, pushing on my back until I leaned down over the arm of the furniture. It wasn’t that comfortable, so I dropped to my knees, my abs impaled on the wooden arm, but he quickly got behind me and opened my cheeks before diving in with his tongue and teeth, licking, biting, probing and slobbering all over my hole, so I quickly forgot about my abdomen.

He ate me out for a few minutes, his spit running down my legs and my hole relaxing under his attention. He brought a finger up to my hole and teased it before slowly entering me and stretching me open. Once his first finger was fully inside, he pulled it out and put two inside me, scissoring them to open me up more. After he had three inside me, he pulled them out and kissed my right butt cheek before standing up and then leaning down, lining his dick up with my flexing hole as I was bent over the arm of his futon.

Before he entered me, he ran over and grabbed a beer from the desk, then came back and lined up with my hole again before slowly and delicately entering me. My hole stretched around his dick as it entered me, spreading my ass lips apart and lodging his dick fully inside me. He rested once he was deep inside and took a drink before slowly pulling out until just the head was left in me, then pushed into me again. He repeated this several times, slowly pulling out before entering me again, drinking every couple of strokes. I was face down on the futon, looking toward the back of the futon and couldn’t see anything in the room. My vision was blurring enough from the pleasure he was giving me and the Fireball I’d had to drink that it wouldn’t have mattered if I could. I was moaning loudly with each stroke into my hole, and he continued to slowly fuck me, occasionally spitting on his dick when it was almost fully out to add lube.

I heard someone yell in and congratulate Colin, and he just raised his glass and continued to slowly fuck me. Another voice was closer and must’ve been in the room, because they high-fived each other and were having a conversation about how tight I was and how good it felt. When they high-fived, Colin splashed beer on my back, which drove me crazy and felt so good. I love being used by someone for their pleasure, and if they disregard me in the process, it’s even better. I stayed where I was but turned my head and looked into the room. I was flexing my ass with each thrust into me, causing a tight grip on his dick as it ran through my sphincter. I heard part of the conversation above me as I looked into the room and saw his friend standing there, loose basketball shorts covering an obvious erection.

“Mind if I have some fun after you?”

“Normally I’d say sure, but this one is special. I think I want him for myself.”

“Damn! Seriously? Colin is smitten?? That’s news we should yell from the rooftops!”

“Yeah, he’s super sweet and so fucking hot. His hole is grabbing me and massaging me each time I go inside.”

“Wow. He is really cute. If I can’t have a go at him, can I at least jack off? I’m gonna get blue balls if I can’t”

“Yeah, if he says it ok. Drew! Do you mind if my friend Tim here jacks off over your hot body?”

“Um, sure! I guess”

Tim dropped his shorts revealing he was freeballing and had a big, bright red dick with a wet head, covered in precum. He rubbed over the head to gather some lube then grabbed his shaft and started stroking right in front of my face. I was staring up at him, and his body was really nice with well defined muscles and a light fuzz of hair over his chest and abdomen. His balls were swinging back and forth as he jacked off, and Colin continued to fuck me, getting faster with the visual stimulation Tim was giving us.

“Can I get some lube from his mouth?” Tim asked the room, and Colin deferred to me. I said “Yeah, if you’d like.” Tim reached over and grabbed my hair then lifted my head up while I opened my mouth and took him in. He pushed in all the way until his balls were against my cheek and his pubes were in my nose then pulled out slowly. He let go of me, and my head dropped back onto the cushion. He resumed his jacking while Colin continued to fuck, his thrusts becoming more urgent and stronger, pushing me into the cushion of the futon with each drive into my body. I kept flexing my hole as strongly as I could, but it was getting wrecked by the continuous assault Colin was delivering to it.

Tim let out a wail and leaned over me, his cum raining down on my face and back while he jacked off over me. The splat of cum against my hot skin was like electric shocks that went straight to my balls, and I flexed my whole body and came without touching myself, shooting my cum against the side of the futon and on the floor underneath me. My flexing hole must’ve pushed Colin over the edge, because he pushed into me and stayed there, grunting with each volley of cum he was depositing inside my hole.

Colin fell forward but prevented himself from falling onto my back with his arms, not wanting Tim’s cum all over him. He did lean over and kiss the head of Tim’s dick before Tim put it away and left the room silently. Colin pushed himself back up and stood, quickly withdrawing from deep within me and leaving my hole gaping open and leaking his cum down my legs. I stayed there for a few more moments, Tim’s cum cooling and hardening on my skin and Colin’s running down my legs.

I eventually gathered the strength to stand up and get dressed, not caring to wipe any of the evidence of our coupling away. Colin and I stood and kissed for many moments, savoring the contact we were having and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

It was time for me to go, so I gathered the rest of my things and started to leave. Colin pulled me into one more kiss before promising to call me and take me out on a date. He directed me down the steps we used to get up here, so I stumbled down and out into the backyard before finding my way back to my dorm.

George was asleep when I got there, but he woke up with the racket I was making trying to be quiet. He noticed the cum in my hair and drying on my skin and could smell sex on me, but didn’t say anything. He just helped me get undressed and into my bed where I passed out, Colin’s cum continuing to leak out of my wrecked hole

I woke up a little bit later, naked and in my bed without any covers on me as George was turning off the light and getting back into bed, new splats of cum cooling on my back.

[x-authorship-x]

i feel like we're not helping you write the red Istari but these pairings are too fun to stop 🌝 any other combinations you'd care to share?

I always was too much of a multishipper to function 🤦

OKAY SO WE HAVE

The OG Idea Ship: Shisui x Faramir:

I love love love Faramir so much, and I absolutely do love him with Eowyn don't get me wrong, but my desire was to explore his time with the Rangers of Ithilien and becoming a brilliant Captain despite Denethor's....everything, and I wanted him to meet Shisui, who is this crazy glowing motherfucker, and be both awed and bemused lmao

The Obligatory Magical Girl Ship: Shisui x Legolas

Honestly this was born from both impatience and sadness for mortality because Faramir is gonna die, he's not going anywhere off Middle Earth, and there's a lot of time between the current chapters and when Shisui gets to meet him. Legolas however is kicking at this time, working on removing the stick from his ass courtesy of his father, and I loved the idea of them finding themselves through knowing each other. Also it's funny to imagine Aragorn trying to live undercover as a random soldier/Ranger BUT TRAILING BEHIND HIM ARE THE ELVEN PRINCE AND A SUSPICIOUSLY HARAD-LOOKING WIZARD 😂 Aragorn what have you got there? A smoothie?

The Bros Are My Hoes Ship: Shisui x Boromir

I have a previous Istari!Shisui fic with this pairing and, well, I never could leave anything alone. I love the idea of these two being sensitive but also slightly meathead-ish. The closest the Fellowship can get to having two all-star sportsmen eyefucking in the locker room. Hold my hand on the battlefield, my brother in arms. Handle my sword, as if it were your own. I'll be your shield, your armour. You look stunning in the dawn of victory; come, place your forehead to mine and we shall draw breath together. This idea will never leave me alone.

Protective Husbandry Ship: Shisui x Samwise

I don't need to preach to the choir about this glorious mix of protective instincts, plant care and good food. It really does speak for itself. Also I love the imagery of Shisui, who alternates wildly between deadly gorgeous and sunshine gorgeous depending on if you can see his dimples, and Sam, who is no doubt the Shire's Hottest Bachelor with a head of sunny curls and a kitchen/garden to drool over. A summer wedding under the Party Tree, please and thank you.

Majestic Heart attack Ship: Shisui x Aragorn

I'm sorry but the inherent homoeroticism of a knight genuflecting to his chosen king. Like. A KING AND HIS WIZARD?! also Aragorn is the fav poetry, brooding, sweetheart and you're telling me you can't imagine Shisui sliding him a tender smile, sitting down beside him at the campfire and twisting their fingers together. The promise of what little happiness they can find now, knowing that 'later' could mean Aragorn sworn to a crown, with the ensuing duties, and Shisui, like a distant star, sailing away with the other Istari. Um. My eyes are glinting with unshed tears in the moonlight. Neither would ever leave the other but fate might not be so kind. Also Shisui wounded at some point and whisked away to be cared for by Gandalf and Radagast and then he gets to make his Arwen-Coronation entrance and declare that he will NOT sail 😭❤️

Sexual Tension and Gorgeous Hair Ship: Shisui x Eomer

Shisui is in Big Trouble because he's a feminist in a world where feminism is a 'weird and not really a thing' thing. Yes he expected Eowyn to be wielding that sword, why wouldn't she, and why are you getting all up in my face for encouraging her. This is different from Aragorn complimenting her desire to defend her people, this is Shisui helping Eowyn smuggle armour and showing her how to garotte an orc. Eomer wants to punch the red wizard so bad, from the moment he dared OUTRUN A HORSE (wtf) to the moment he dared flash that cheeky grin and JUMP ONTO A ROOF TO LEAVE A CONVERSATION. There is a lot of tension and unnecessary interactions, like if they actually hated each other they would avoid and ignore lmao. The very slow slide into allies and gruff trust. Shisui doesn't appreciate being stifled, thanks. Eomer is ramming his head into the wall until he gets a better idea and uses biting kisses to shut Shisui up. Everyone thinks these two need to be hospitalized. (Aragorn, with those healing hands on Shisui's forehead: I have never seen you behave this way?????)

The Holy Fuck My Eyes Ship: Shisui x Arwen

I cannot unsee this, I did this to myself in The Red Ally when I suggested that Elrond had hoped that Shisui could marry Arwen so they could all sail together. And then I went and described Arwen like a goddamned marble sculpture who stepped off her pillar into a pool of moonlight and she held Shisui's arm so gently and they were supposed to be friends but now I cannot UNSEE AND I NEED YOU ALL TO SUFFER WITH ME

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #shisui #lotr #lotr shisui #shisui x samwise #samwise #the red istari #shisui x faramir #faramir #shisui x legolas #legolas #shisui x boromir #boromir #shisui x eomer #eomer #shisui x arwen #arwen #shisui x aragorn #aragorn

[snellyfish]

Obligatory “what did you feel about the new episode” ask 👀💕

HI ive been out travelling and im an old man when it comes to mobile but ill try to gather my thoughts :)

Ace eating disorder represent,,, woo,,,,,, sad party blower sound,, love thst for us,,,, Holds his hand and makes out with him. Also eternally banger voice actor choice for him. Absolutely amazing performance every time he speaks.

Obligatory I love Arei. recently revamped an OC I made 5 years ago and basing a lot of her personality and stuff off of Arei. Just felt like sharing. I love Arei so much I will make her my oc methinks.

THE MOTIVES MADE ME SO FERAL I PAUSED THE VIDEOS SO MANY TIMES AND WAS LIKE AAIOGIGOGOUUGHHHH SO MANY HORRIBLE HORRIBLE FUCKED UP BLORBOS I CANT WAIT TO LEARN EVERYPONY'S SECRETS OM NOM NOM<33 Speaking of which JESUS CHRIST I really feel like the secret motives some ppl held onto, like, REALLY shouldn't have been kept to themselves omg. I'm sure there's been some behind the scenes stuff of characters gaining distaste/distrust/avoiding certain ppl after receiving certain motives;; I'm not entirely sure WHO specifically, but these are like CRAZY things to not warn the rest of the class about. Was David's the one that Arei got? Killed a man with no remorse? Huh? Shoves you pushes you shoves you into locker and swallows the key

The entire time during episode 9 I was trying and failing to open a jar of ice cream so I was a Little out of it, but from what I gather I'm really dumb and not good at mysteries so i have no clue who the hell did it. At one point I asked "alright who killed a man?" but my bestie heard "who killed min?" so I just kept saying that for the rest of the episode and crying of laughter. Guys, be honest, who killed Min- I'm not mad I just wanna know, guys-

Nico continues to piss me off a little. Teruko goes without saying she pisses me off to no end. When everyone started dragging her handwriting I was whooping and cheering and hollering it was so funny GET HER.

I liked how the two main people investigating the corpse were Arturo and Veronika. They really do get a lot of screentime together and it's starting to scare me a little. Is this like subtle ship fanservice or am I about to meet horrors beyond my comprehension as the story and cases develop. I hope one of them kills the other. They're so in love.

I also liked at one point Veronika dragging Ace's ass. They're ALSO in love btw. Yeah I'll ship my top 3 faves together, what else would you expect from me, man

Rose....<3

DAVID!!!!!!<3333 I know his ass was lying about history of depression that shit was so funny be honest bro you have unfathomable sins keep it 100% with us. If you turn out to not be fucked up or morally grey ykno I'll be a little disappointed. Just keep it real with us.

The motive that's like "where do I even start, everything about your life is worth killing for" is so funny bc if that was mine I would be like. okay. not my problem. That's so incredibly vague that means NOTHING. I'm also assuming it's Teruko's tbh, it's the only one vague and weird enough for her to be like "imma keep ot real with you chief idfk which of these are mine 🐸"

What else. I'm a little hungover

every time they brought up the fish I was like haha. like snellyfish. I'm an accomplice in Arei's murder and I didn't even know!!

kinda hashtag don't blame Hu for not telling whose motive she got bc it was a little suicide coded and very personal

That's all I'm done I forget what else happened xoxo love you all I love drdt so much--

I lied I just remembered that Eden lesbian (sapphic whatever I don't care) and laughed really hard at the idea of like. Charles opening the motive without reading the name and just thinking like "I'M A LESBIAN?????" real

Eden/Nico could be real if I didn't have a leaning negative opinion of Nico rn. I am still patient and hearing them out for now tho.

Ok Now I'm done.

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #ask #anon

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 173 Rundown

The Witch from Mercury: Okay so I have a notoriously hard time of comprehending Gundam plots so if I get anything wrong… that’s just how it’ll have to be. So it’s the old chesnut Gundam franchise have been milking for forty years now… Earth vs Space, like seriously I haven’t even seen all the Gundam serieses and I am SO sick of setup and everyone philosophizing about how going into space gives people superpowers and shit like can Gundam as a series think of anything else to do? But yeah apparently in this verse they originally were making prosthetics for people that had muscle dystrophy and shit from being in space and then as someone always does they went ‘cool but what if we did WAR with it?’ and now regular mobile suits and Gundams are just quietly being built in the background even though no official war is going on and the Gundams make people fucking die from a combination of information overload similar to the Zero System in Wing and that shit in Pacific Rim that made it so you needed two people to coordinate motor functions of a huge robot. Enter Eri, tiny girl with a mysterious connection to the big Barbie Gundam being built by her parents who are definitely not surviving this episode. It’s her birthday because this backstory is REALLY gonna kick her in the metaphorical nuts and the Space People have decided ‘Gundams kill their own guys, I’M supposed to kill their guys, that’s not fair bro’ which, A+ politicianing, no notes, I’m sure that’d go over well with a CEO just shouting about how he wants to kill people on the battlefield before they can nobly sacrifice themselves and that’s why he has to shutdown the big superweapons will go over great, like anime politicians can just get away with saying the wildest shit while real politicians come under fire if you don’t say the word god enough in a speech. But yeah instead of just shutting them down and destroying their research they just fucking come out swinging and do a full Space Colony ARK and murder everyone in the station (I think these guys were Earth-Alligned despite being in a space station idk this is why I have a hard time keeping track of this shit) like I feel like that was overkill and just PR nosedive for no reason but Eri needs a tragic backstory. Like is there functionally any reason they had to go murder everyone instead of just going ‘your shit’s illegal now, hand over your research OR will kill you’ instead of going ‘hand over your shit AND we’ll kill you’? Like I guess they’re doing a scorched earth approach and wanting to make sure and are prolly gonna say the unarmed scientists resisted to a level that required lethal force but that really seemed unnecessary, like you probably could’ve tied that up in courts and had them hand over all their shit instead of murder. While all this is going on Eri’s in the Barbie Gundam and surprise surprise she can get it to work when no one else can, her dad and the random technician lesbian take out the non-Barbie gundams and murder everyone except for the angsty pretty boy in the obligatory regal-looking suit that’s fancier than normal but technically not a gundam to get around plot shit while Eri and her mom get away in the Barbie Gundam which I’m honestly kind of surprised Eri’s mom gets to live I was expecting a full familial wipe from a backstory going this hard on the trauma and eerie innocence of its main character.

Inuyasha The Final Act: After the events with Moryomaru, Koga’s joined the group and Shippo notes how it changes the dynamic now that he’s actively stoking the Inuyasha/Kikyo/Kagome love triangle and Shippo doesn’t like it but I kinda do, it’s kinda funny to have a party member that isn’t super friendly with the others. Meanwhile Naraku reabsorbs Onigumo’s heart, theorizing that if he can’t directly kill Kikyo without it, he can use the overt shittiness of humanity to corrupt the purifying light she puts into Kohaku’s shard to try and purify him. So that gives him the ability to shoot spiderwebs of bad vibes at people to corrupt them mentally since I guess Onigumo’s fine with mindbreaking Kikyo even if he can’t overtly kill her. Kikyo’s absorbed Miroku’s miasma and give her own was never fully healed she’s like 75% poison at this point and basically half dead so she has to ditch Kohaku so he doesn’t get corrupted, luckily Sesshomaru takes over the Kohaku Babysitting duties for the time being. Meanwhile Kagome is once again the only one who can save Kikyo and we have to play the song and dance of ‘does Kagome want Kikyo to literally die for a love triangle?’ again even though we’ve established time and time again the answer is fucking no, though this time we have Naraku actively pumping bad vibes into her to at least give her doubts while she goes to get the only bow that can purify Kikyo. This part’s kinda trippy since we see a bunch of illusions of Kikyo and Inuyasha and they keep going ‘no it’s real this time’ like an episode of Rick and Morty until we show that Kikyo and Inuyasha are still outside the shrine so absolutely none of it was real. Kagome has to AGAIN reject the idea of wanting her romantic rival to literally die though this time coming out on the side of her and Kikyo being equals because she’s sick of feeling like a Johnny come lately trying to vault over the First Girl and has a whole series of character development to relate to Inuyasha with so that’s a nice little moment of her in-universe being sick of the fucking endless tests of her heart, like Kagome’s fundamentally a good girl and yeah constantly getting asked this question has gotta be grating when it’s something she barely ever thought about.

Castlevania: We get Hector’s backstory now so we have all the pieces on the humans Dracula’s recruited while Carmilla’s still stirring the shit trying to get someone to go after the Belmont house and I’m still not entirely sure if she’s the one that will cause infighting that will ruin the bad guys’ plans or if she’s the more dangerous villain ready to take over for the more sympathetic Dracula The Rock style. Meanwhile Trevor’s group do come across the Belmon treasure trove and it is kinda sweet to see him reminisce over his childhood and family legacy despite how much he seemed to disown them in season 1. He gets a cool new weapon and Sypha gets to read books and shit but Alucard’s basically walking through the vampire version of the holocaust museum so he’s more than a little freaked out. Back at Castle Castlevania Godbrand’s a bit concerned that human genocide is kinda like cow genocide in that it makes everything kinda shitty on the food chain and Dracula just wants to be done with humanity. Their interaction cues us that Dracula’s actually kinda pulling a better-explained Raizen from YYH and slowly starving despite still being ridiculously powerful and may be plotting to let vampires die out with humans so everything’s just a quiet empty void (like I think vampires can still survive without humans but it’s a lot less pleasant so idk if a vampire genocide is really in the cards but it’s not something people are clamoring for). Still Carmilla’s just here to play the Starscream and take things over so I guess get ready for Carmillavania in Season 3.  

Jujutsu Kaisen: So turns out Megumi’s technique is like Pokemon and you have to fight the big monsters before you get to capture them and send them out for you and getting help means you don’t get the capture but you do get to try again if you need to and there’s a super secret legendary pokemon that no one’s every caught before and actually killed a Gojo-level guy in the past, though it obviously kills the person summoning it first. So much for Megumi being all ‘I’m not throwing my life away’ a few episodes ago because his first response to being attacked by a C-tier asshole is summoning the Ultra Necrozma nuke. I assume this is the technique that he’s been talking about all those times we’ve gone ‘oh he’s gonna do a big attack’ except probably the time against Todo because that wouldn’t make any sense but given the mass carnage here I’m kinda glad he didn’t pull it out until now because it definitely would’ve murdered a fuckton of people in the process. Sukuna steps in because Megumi doesn’t technically die until hand-hold guy dies so as long as he’s able to keep them alive while fighting Ultra Necrozma here everything’s cool. The rest of the episode is basically just a ridiculous slugfest between Sukuna and Ultra Necrozma because this guy’s like Amazo from Justice League and adapts to any and all attacks so the only way to beat it is to obliterate it on an atomic level with something it’s never seen before. Realizing and implying there is something sneaky about his ‘cut anything forever’ attack, Sukuna uses his Domain which is basically like sticking something in a blender combined with that glitch in OoT that’s just infinite sword swings and for good measure hits it with the fire arrow thing from last time to make sure it can’t regenerate. The end result basically turns Shibuya into Made in Abyss with a giant fuckoff hole in the center. He gets Megumi to safety and kills hand-holding guy FINALLY and then he just hands consciousness off back to Yuji who now remembers EVERYTHING from the past three episodes or so all at once and gets flashes of the hundreds of thousands of deaths his body is responsible for. So… yeah, that’s rough buddy.

Delicious in Dungeon: Just getting this out of the way but this is another of those ‘have you ever played an RPG before?’ anime that is ridiculously video gameified and kind of relies on all the tropes you already know about games for its worldbuilding and like luckily it’s charming enough on its own to not have that wreck the show for me but the over-reliance on making every fantasy setting a video game is REALLY a pet peeve of mine. But yeah, this series is rather silly, Laios’s sister Falin gets eaten by a dragon and there’s a medium-level urgency to get her back before she’s digested. Like the stakes are really confusing because several characters make it very clear how important getting her back is but part of the comedy seems to be how they’re not in a huge hurry and stop for food every five minutes, plus it’s not entirely clear if this is one of those video game fantasy settings that has no consequences for dying since they seem kind of chill about finding corpses and Marcille refers to a life-threatening situation being her ‘first time’ dying despite there being graveyards and shit so this is the kind of shit that really bugs me about video game-style fantasy worlds and I assume it’ll get explained later but it gets under my skin. Still the whole thing basically turns into a Food Wars episode as Laios is very passionate about monsters like in a Garou-level sense of just being hyperfixated but also has no idea how to go through the manual skill needed to actually cook them which is strange given he seemed to be kind of looking for an excuse to do this for years. Still, luckily they find Senshi, a guy whose whole deal is having already done this for years and basically treats it like a Martha Stewart show and it’s pretty funny watching them meet halfway between Food Wars and Toriko. Like there’s not much more to it than that, they make some scorpion soup and some vegetable tart and Marcille gets an obligatory tentacle scene though it’s not protracted and doesn’t have any fanservice shots so I get the feeling it was just something to fuel fanart as opposed to actually showing anything which is an interesting way to take things, let the R34 machine run itself without having to dirty their own hands. It’s fun, the setting is one of my least favorite things about modern anime and the tone is kind of confusing but I’m sure that’ll even out with time, I am enjoying it thus far.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End: The first bit of the episode is a little adventure developing the new group dynamic now that Stark has joined and Fern isn’t really sure what to do with him. Frieren gets to meet some more of the people touched by her adventure and the far-reaching festivals made in honor of their deeds. The real meat of the episode is in the second part though and we get some really good stuff here. The group enters a new town when Frieren senses demons and goes into attack mode, but turns out these demons wear clothes and shit and are all fancy and the like, being ambassadors to try peace talks with the village. Since Frieren just attacked a foreign ambassador they throw her right the fuck in jail and Fern gives her the scoop that one of the Demon King’s generals took over after he died and is now leading the charge but the ambassadors have decided that peace may be an option. Frieren is ridiculously racist against demons but also kinda describes how they kinda deserve it by telling a story of a demon girl that was trusted by a community only to murder more people and only using sympathetic words to save herself from attacks. Or at least that’s how Frieren sees things, the real story is the girl was taken in by the town and still hated for the people she had previously killed so in a truly utilitarian sense she stole a replacement child for the one she’d murdered just to get their racist asses off her backs and the evil Frieren sees in her is an ignorance of emotion, someone that’s not necessarily good or bad and is an alien to human connections acting in ways that appear horrendous to those that have them. Someone just like Fern. That’s kind of the part that gets me, like earlier this same episode we see how foreign basic social skills are to Fern and Frieren herself and granted they’re not murdering people but it’s the same kind of not fully understanding people thing that throws off the ‘measure of a man’ speeches because if you say someone that lacks compassion or social understanding is a monster what happens when a human shares those qualities, someone who’s antisocial or autistic and can’t be bought in by the ‘love makes us human’ answer to the kind of sentient being whose life we should or shouldn’t value, if that’s where we’re going with this I’m really excited. Still for the time being the demons are right dicks and manipulate the guards with all the right words of ‘oh but we’ve suffered too, let’s have peace’ that would absolutely wreck any Naruto-minded Talk no Jutsu protagonist despite demons literally not having families (and this seemingly crucial fact apparently not being widely known). Turns out the ambassadors’ plan is to make peace and then have the town lower its barrier so they can burn it to the ground which… doesn’t make any fucking sense like it’s not like you’re disarming a weapon you’re asking them to take down a purely defensive shield that can’t actually hurt anybody and promising ‘we won’t attack bro’ without giving any sign of good faith on your end, might as well ask them to tear down their walls like that probably protects them from non-demon creatures and judging by last episode is a crucial part of border control, like that’s a dumb plan. It’s frustrating because their emotional manipulation is ridiculously good but their actual plan doesn’t make any sense. Still this complicated situation is about to get a lot simpler because one of the junior ambassadors just fucking barges into the dungeon, kills a guard and is ready to kill Frieren, like these guys are so fucking dumb even if Frieren wasn’t a demi-god how are you going to explain a dead guard outside the cell while the fugitive elf died in the cell like you just blew your whole dumb barrier-lowering plan because you couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to get in to see the prisoner and had to kill her right fucking now.

Vinland Saga: Thorfinn and Snake continue their fight and are surprisingly evenly matched despite Thorfinn just using his fists and not being as small and nimble as he was when he first developed his knife style. Thorfinn isn’t defeated but does lose the battle of the terrain when Snake is able to move over to the cart and get to Gardar. He makes a good point that he can’t justify just letting Gardar go since he really cares about his whole crew and taking anything less than revenge would be an insult. Now obviously this is still wrong but making the ‘an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind’ argument is a little difficult when you’re in Viking times and have like five seconds before this guy stabs him. Snake starts making plans of what to do now that Thorfinn and Arnheid have disobeyed him and Gardar just… pops up out of the cart like a daisy and stopped the sword with his astonishing pecs or some shit because he gets Snake in a sleeper hold and knocks him out. Arnheid talks him down from killing Snake and Gardar’s still gonna die anyway so the rest of the episode is just a big schmaltzy sendoff for Gardar and all the regrets he’s had in his life and it’s a pretty cool sequence for someone whose character development mostly came from other people. Like just saying, Askeladd was basically the main character for a while and all he got was a final speech and Gardar gets a whole dream sequence of finding his obviously dead son. Still now we’re in the weird position of Arnheid being taken by Ketil’s guards and Ketil himself coming home to find his bottom bitch and his favorite slave tried to start a revolt over a guy he’s never heard of while war with the king is looming on the horizon, so… awkward, I guess.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #The Witch From Mercury #Inuyasha #Castlevania #Jujutsu Kaisen #Delicious in Dungeon #souso no frieren #Vinland Saga

[not-even-nostalgia]

OKAY SO tumblr decided to be a bitch and crash and eat an ask while I was answering it so @ulec-elec this is for you as a response to you asking me about Harpy in my au and I’m so sorry this took so long.

So, some miscellaneous Harpy headcanons!

- She’s a carnivore. Just look at those teeth. She also has excellent night vision.

- She’s very nice and generous and a total team player (a real bro if you will) BUT she has absolutely zero issues with violence whatsoever and that’s why she’s often seen around Thatch’s lot (you can pry this one from my cold dead hands: bleeding heart bloodlust harpy for the win!)

- Dummy girl got her into eyeliner. This is fact.

- very outdoorsy person, HATES enclosed spaces. She is one of the top contenders for ‘most likely to be sneaking out on any given night’

- very rarely talks (a nonverbal queen 👑) (is it too much projection to hc her as neurodivergent?? 👀)

- Following from the last one, she can and will kick ass at charades, and she also loves other party games.

- She is the type of person who will reveal an absolutely insane piece of information completely randomly and then move on before anyone can process it.

- Obligatory (mildly) angsty headcanon: She has a lot of siblings but they are a lot older than her, and she was very lonely growing up. Because of this she really enjoys being at scare school.

Obligatory Harpy drawings <3 but I’m away from home (and my art stuff) and tired so they be. rough. (Plus some more visual headcanons bc of course)

highlighters are my saving grace 🙌

#answered #ulec-elec #css harpy #casper’s scare school #i made an art #headcanons

[meatbricks]

BLU IS LATE. BUT MERR CHRISTMAS. (I don't celebrate it, BUT STILL lol)

Makes me think of a Christmas related ask maybe? :3

bro you're not even late LMAOO it's xmas eve where i am.. but yeah merry christmas!!! time for the obligatory spooky christmas post :D

so. christmas in the Spook Zone™, huh

i feel like i should start this post off by saying that they do, indeed, celebrate christmas!! not for religious reasons, just because. it fun :)

usually it's just the two of them so most people would expect it to be pretty chill but. it Most Certainly Is Not™

ever been to a wild college house party with only 2 attendees? ever listened to christmas music while high out of your mind? ever tried to summon The Bone Pharaoh? well that's what you'll get if you spend your christmas with these fuckers

maybe not exactly but y'know. it's an equivalent experience

legitimately it feels like you're at the club but there's only like. 3 or 4 of you

and you already KNOW at least one of them still believes in santa. honestly who doesn't. if you don't believe in santa then i hope you eventually work through your issues and find a way to live a happy life because goddamn you must be miserable

like. there's a full-on santa shrine somewhere in the vicinity of the christmas tree, probably.. go big or go home i guess LOL

silliest case scenario they probably commit a human sacrifice for santa and eat whoever they killed for christmas dinner

i also feel like maybe they tried to do christmas karaoke night once but it ended catastrophically (someone probably had to go to the hospital)

all in all. it's certainly an interesting time

#this is the answer (ooc) #this is the answer #these are the headcanons #this is the writing #🖌 #🪓 #urbanspook #the painter urbanspook #urbanspook analog horror #can you believe it guys????? christmas!!! just a day away!!! oh wow!!!/ref #also before anyone asks THEY HAVE REGULAR DECORATIONS ON THE TREE. do you know how badly a tree decorated with organs would stink #no one wants to deal with that during christmas time. YOU KNOW that wouldnt work out #they wouldn't even last a full night; let alone like. a few hours #not a good idea in the slightest #anyways MERRY CRINGEMAS.. WE'RE CRINGE AND WE'RE FREE

[kingdom-of-kins]

sneaks my way over to your blog yo hi uhh here to request a shufflemancy. bro strider here. probably something about rox or a non-canon guy i was with, either work and also required little yadda yadda if ya don't like bro then cool have a good day but if you do then i'm doin a lil dance of joy and thanking you

you got it man! i did both just for the fun of it :3 (under the cut!) obligatory reminder that these arent always fully accurate but i hope they help to at least jog some memories :]

rox - lone digger - caravan palace Hey brother, what you thinkin'? Leave that old record spinnin' You feel the rhythm going (They call it lonely diggin')

Legs ain't got time to lay low Your knees are bending, so It's time to get up and let go (You're gonna come undone)

Hey Mama, how is it going? Can't see your body movin' Don't leave the party dyin' (They call it lonely diggin') - Baby, can you move around the rhythm So we can get with 'em Jump around, and get us a rock'n roll 'round Just a downtown body-body Comin' with a super hotty Let's go, real slow, hell no

Baby, can you move around the rhythm 'Cause you know we're all livin' in the fast lane Speed up, it ain't no game Just turn up all the beams when I come up on the scene

personal interpretation: i ended up writing out a LOT of the lyrics because this one kind of keeps relevancy through most of it. the general jist i got was that a)the first section was about you, b)the third was about roxy, and c)the rest was more about how the two coped with loneliness & preparing for the game(?). the second bit refering to how you prepared for it, and the rest referring to roxy trying to ignore/forget it. ofc, thats just my take.

non-canon guy - e-girl - negative xp

She's an MKUltra victim I can't get her out of my system

I wanna see her Touch her, hug her Kiss her, fuck her Love her, be with her

Hey, I messaged you Can you see what I said? 'Cause I can't get you out of my head

Hey, e-girl, e-girl, e-girl, e-girl - See the pictures you post See how pretty you are So close to me but yet so far - You're on my screen like a TV star You're so close to me but yet so far You're like a disease, poison in my system You make me seem special, but I'm just another victim

personal interpretation: i get the vibes (and double checked with my pendulum lol) that this was more his feelings abt you than vice versa. uhh honestly this one seems kind of self explanatory. long distance relationship/crushing/e-dating type deal. fun fact! i redid this one bc i clicked on the wrong playlist at first, but it ended up popping up twice.

#☆pondering fate | divination #☆twirling my pen | my posts #☆perfectly generic | homestuck #homestuck kin #bro strider kin #shufflemancy

[furtiveseal]

ALRIGHT GAMERS I’M BACK TO THE THIRD SEMESTER TIME TO DO THE BEST PART OF THE GAME LET’S GOOOOOO

I’d like to extend thanks to Ryuji and Makoto, the former having been on the team from beginning to end without fail, and the latter providing very appreciated help in the latter half of the game once the composition stabilised. Unfortunately, I will have to bench both of them to make room for Akechi and Sumire, whom I simply cannot ignore (and Haru has an obligatory spot on the team), but they were still incredible party members and Ryuji’s my bro

#i love going alright gamers as if anyone's been following my sporadic posts lmao #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 5 spoilers #persona 5 royal spoilers #ryuji sakamoto #makoto nijima #haru okumura #goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #seal talks

[heyitsspaceace]

Some of my favorite parts or songs in my favorite musicals

wow thats a lot of favorites (all the musicals have links to them if you wanna...listen to them idk

Moulin Rouge

Here's your ticket pack your bag Time for jumpin' overboard Transportation is here Close enough but not too far Maybe you know where you are Fightin' fire with fire - Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

In shut up and raise your glass around 1:37 when the ensemble is singing "slam slam oh hot damn what part of party don't you understand" under the leads

It's not in the cast recording but when Zeidler says "SHOW US YOUR ASS CHRISTIAN" in the pitch song

Yes it breaks my hea-a-a-a-a-art - Elephant Love Medley

A kiss on the HAND may be QUITE CONTINENTAL, a kiss may be GRAND but it WON'T PAY THE RENTAL - Only girl in a material girl

let me make you riiiiisssseeee, take you for a riiiiideeee - only girl in a material girl (i hate the duke but his songs slap guys)

El tango de roxanne, just all of it oh my god

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Newsies

the whole scene with the nuns and the boys in carrying the banner, it just sounds wonderful

what a face.... FACE THE FACT-- in watch what happens

just all of seize the day like yes its slaps

THE END OF SANTA FE

the "oh no's-" at the start of king of new york

also the tap in it bc it makes my ADHD brain go wee woo

obligatory poor guys head is spinning

we'll get your pay back and some PAYBACK! - i love clever word play guys im so easy to please

THEY WAY YOU CAN HEAR THE HARMONIES IN ONCE AND FOR ALL GOD END ME ITS SO GOOD CHRIST

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Catch Me If You Can

(if you haven't listened to this why...you're missing out)

the play boy bunny line in live and living color is so good oh my g O d

Tom Wopat's voice in pinstripes are all that they see

Yes, we're gonna hit the high life We've only just begun. We're gunna be together Frank Sr. and son. - Pinstripes are all that they see

Someone else's skin.???? more like the song i cry too ANYWAYS

I thought a love like theirs could never die....if that can fade away so can i! - Someone else's skin

SING IT NORBERT- if you don't think don't break the rules slaps you are WRONG

It's your turn, Dad Nah, you're doing great Oh, no, this, this is a duet It's Frank and me, It's not a solo act - butter outta cream

he's a kid??? He's a kid! - christmas is my favorite time of year

YEAH, NOW I WANNA SEE HIM FLYYYYY FLYYYY I'LL BE YOUR ALIBI MY BABY FLLLLLLY FLLYYYY FLY AWAY

GOOOOOODBYEEEEE GOODYBYE TO THE LIVES THAT I DON'T OWN

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice

BRO THIS IS SO HARD I LOVE ALL OF THIS MUSICAL

we should have carpe'd way more diems! Now we're never gonna see em! - the whole being dead thing

DIE! YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIE! - the whole being dead thing

Look at these jugs! *beetlejuice walks in* - ready set not yet

im the b-to-the-double-e-j-u-f and jesus i can't spell

You ever stop to ask yourselves "why?"

Both of you are super polite Middle class, suburban, and white Well, all of that is finished tonight Except for the white part.......Obviously -The fright of their lives

I AM STILL YOUNG - no reason

BJ pulling out more and more limbs during invisible reprise

pretty much all of say my name

LESLIE SING IT- I LOVE WHAT I KNOW NOW

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i think i'll leave you all with this for now

#newsies #moulin rouge broadway #broadway #musical theater #theater kid #beetlejuice broadway #theater #catch me if you can #aaron tveit #alex brightman #karen olivo #actors #jeremy jordan #ben fankhauser #ben tyler cook