#and then lost it at the title looking like that

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt2) | Leah Williamson

Leah, among other things, can be a bit of a distraction for your game… but just a bit. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: a short one for today,, thanks for all the love in the pt1 :( pt1 - pt3 my masterlist

It had been three days since Leah had received the Instagram notification. Every morning, she took a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to text you or not. So far, you had liked her latest post, and Leah was hoping to return the gesture, but unfortunately for her you hadn't posted anything new since your picture holding the Roland Garros trophy. Not even a story she could react to. Nothing. 

“So... how's it going?” her mother asked that afternoon. Leah had gone to visit her, finding herself with more free time now that the season had ended, not much to do aside from the occasional interview and events, nothing too physically demanding for her.

“Well, I have an interview with the BBC in a couple of days, so that's keeping me busy” Leah said, pacing around the dining room, her eyes wandering over the photographs on one of her mother’s many shelves.

“I'm not talking about work. I'm talking about your girl!” Amanda shouted from the kitchen.

"Stop calling her that. I still can't believe you embarrassed me in front of her” Leah retorted. Just then, something over the fireplace caught her attention. 

Right in the center, where her picture holding up the Euro usually was, now stood a small transparent box. Inside was your autographed tennis ball. Leah picked up the box and couldn't help but smile at the sight of your signature, along with a smiley face.

“Hey, leave that there” her mother scolded as she entered the dining room with the two plates of food for dinner. 

“This should be mine, I'm her fan,” Leah said, fiddling with the box in her hand.

“Did you help Y/N win her trophy?” her mother retorted.

“Well, I got you there in the first place” Leah defended herself, placing the box back in its spot.

"Too bad that gift was given to me. If you want a ball, ask her for it." Amanda teased.

“You're my mother. You should be nicer to me.” Leah countered, taking a seat. 

"Yes, I am your mother, but I didn't raise a coward," Amanda said with a teasing smile. “Now eat”

Leah bit her lip nervously as she stared at her phone screen. The chat with you was open, and a picture of the autographed ball at her mother’s house was ready to be sent.

God, why was she so nervous? She had captained the England women's team to their first major title in history, yet now she was afraid to send a simple message.

“Screw it,” she muttered, hitting send.

“My mom won't let me touch the ball you gave her.”

Leah panicked as soon as the text was sent and quickly locked her phone. She glanced at her watch, it was past eleven o’clock at night, and she didn’t even know where in the world you were right now. The best thing to do was to go to bed and try not to think about the message. Maybe, if she was lucky, you would read it and respond in the morning. 

Within half an hour Leah was in bed, with her ipad in her lap, checking emails. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She had tossed it onto the bed ten minutes ago, and now it was lost somewhere among the sheets and the pile of pillows she had. She rummaged around looking for the phone, but couldn't find it, that was until her foot got tangled in the sheets, causing her to tumble to the floor. That's when she saw her phone, on the edge of the bed, covered by a pillow.

Without bothering to get up from the floor, she grabbed the phone and smiled when she saw the notification: a message from you.

“Aww, I seriously thought she would give it to you.”

Would it be too intense if she responded immediately? 

Leah decided to go for it. “My mother is not that kind of mother,” she typed and sent the message, then relaxed as she saw you had immediately read it. The bubble with three dots appeared instantly, confirming you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Ah, my mother is similar. I understand," you replied.

Leah was taken by surprise when the next message popped up.

“What are you doing at this hour?”

She realized she was still sprawled on the floor of her room. She got up, climbed back into bed, and opened the first streaming app she saw on her ipad, choosing an old movie she had been trying to watch for days. She took a picture, making sure to show only the ipad and part of the bed, then sent it to you.

“Watching something.”

Leah shook her head,feeling like a teenager sending things like that. It reminded her of what she used to do years ago. But she wanted to sound interesting to you. What would you think of her if you knew she was actually just checking emails and watching old football matches, trying to figure out if she could play like she used to?

"What about you? I don't even know what time zone you're in."

“I’m in Italy, just an hour difference :)”

“Italy?”

"Resting. Back to my workouts tomorrow."

"Oh, right. What’s next for you now? Berlin?"

This time Leah was surprised to see that your response was not a text, but a voice message. She hesitated before playing it, then hit the button and heard your voice.

“Wow look at you, you really are a fan,” you said in a teasing tone. Leah blushed immediately. She couldn't send you a voice message because she was sure she would get too nervous. Leah Williamson, the same woman who had spoken at the UN months ago, now felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She took a deep breath and replied:

“Of course I am. I’ve watched almost all your matches since Wimbledon last year. I told you I was your fan when I met you. My mother made sure to emphasize that too.”

“I just thought it was to flatter me if I'm being honest... Not that I'm that self-centered, but it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

Leah could tell you were walking during the last voice message; there was background noise. You obviously weren't in a room.

“Where are you at this hour?”

The next thing Leah received was a photo of a couple of tennis courts. From the angle and the small table with a glass of water, she deduced that you were sitting a few feet away from the courts.

“I thought you were training from tomorrow?”

"On grass. The grass court season starts soon. Now I was just playing with my racket.” You explained in the message. Leah didn't have a chance to respond before receiving another voice message from you. "But it's getting late now, and I need to rest up for tomorrow's training session. Say hi to your mom for me please." 

"Of course, have a good rest," Leah replied, understanding the importance of proper rest for training sessions, especially during the season.

Days had flown by since that chat, and Leah was getting antsy. She was really hoping you'd reach out first this time, just to ease her mind that she wasn't bothering you. But as she sat at Alex's place,  enjoying a glass of wine over dinner before going out, she couldn't help but feel a bit silly constantly checking her phone for a message that never came.

As far as Leah knew you had already arrived in Berlin for the upcoming Open, not because you told her, but because she'd seen some snapshots of you during training sessions thanks to some tennis websites she followed.

Leah didn't know it, but your mind was fully consumed by the upcoming tournament with Wimbledon just around the corner. It was the topic of discussion throughout your entire day: grass, Berlin, Wimbledon, Leah no, wait, focus on that WTA ranking.

"Ready?" Lucas, your coach, asked, checking his watch. It was the last day before the tournament started.

"Huh?" You looked up, putting your phone down.

Lucas gave you a concerned look. "You okay? You've seemed kinda spaced out for a few days now."

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Is something up? You look kinda off," Lucas took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his expression. “You're not hiding some injury from me?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine, just tired” you lied, standing up and glancing at your phone once more. Lucas caught your glance.

"Don't tell me there's a girl," he said, rubbing his temples.

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"God, I knew it. It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw you chatting with her at the hotel."

"That was a waitress, Lucas. I'm serious, there's no one," you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. "I've got my priorities straight."

"Good. What you have to worry about now is Berlin. Remember, Wimbledon's around the corner" said Lucas, standing up and grabbing his bag. "If you want, after that tournament, you can sleep with whoever you want, Italian or not. But for now, you must keep your eyes on the grass. Okay?"

"Okay"

The next morning, as you sat down for breakfast, Leah's face caught your eye while scrolling through your Instagram feed. She had posted some photos, seemingly from a night out. 

It struck you how you hadn't come across Leah until the Roland Garros final; she seemed like an incredible person. You had even done a quick Google search when you first started following her on Instagram, impressed by her contributions to her sport back home.

It wasn't your fault that your family never showed much interest in football, so it wasn't surprising that you couldn't recognize any of the people beside Leah in those pictures. In the final photo, Leah was wearing a top that exposed her abdomen, wow, with a hand from someone you didn't recognize resting on her waist.

“Hmm?” You quickly tapped on the tag on the other woman's body. Her Instagram profile revealed that she was a football player too. Leah was in many of her photos, often seen next to her or hugging her. 

“Hey, Y/N” Lucas intervened, taking the phone from your hand and turning off the screen. “I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, your match starts in an hour.”

You nodded your head. Lucas didn't seem to notice the tension in your jaw, you tended to be serious before matches, so it wasn't unusual.

As you warmed up on the court, your mind couldn't shake the thoughts about Leah.

"Who was that other woman?"

"It doesn't matter. Leah is just a fan, maybe a friend, not someone you're going to marry."

"Exactly. Whether she has a partner or not shouldn't affect anything."

"But I couldn't help but find her cute."

"She's undeniably beautiful."

"Focus on Wimbledon."

Despite the game starting, your mind continued its internal debate.

Your opponent secured the first game at 40-0. Now it was your turn to serve. Just as you tossed the ball into the air, a nagging thought intruded again.

“Does she have a girlfriend?”

The ball hit the net. An irritated sigh escaped your mouth, knowing you had to make this serve count, aiming to avoid a double fault.

Shaking off the distracting thought, you prepared for another attempt. Gazing ahead, you focused on your opponent's movements, determined to regain control of the match.

"Her mother played matchmaker when we met," you mumbled to yourself, the distraction causing you to miss the hit once more. This time, it sailed over the net but landed wide, giving your opponent an unexpected point.

Even your opponent seemed surprised by the unforced error you just made, giving her a point without any effort on her part.

"I need to find out who she is," you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure with each lost point.

Your serve had enough power behind it this time, but your return lacked precision, sending the ball flying into the stands. As the ball sailed out, your opponent glanced at you in disbelief, clearly surprised by the unforced error you had just made.

"Wälti, that was her name," you murmured to yourself, the name lingering in your mind like a persistent echo. 

With the score now at 40-15, your opponent was on the verge of breaking your serve.

You needed to get rid of the doubt, but you couldn't leave the game, you weren't that crazy. But you could do something else, win the game in record time. Focus on winning to satisfy your curiosity and anxiety. You adjusted the gold chain that hung around your neck and took a deep breath. You had to hurry.

The match ended 0-2, with you taking the sets at 2-6 and 1-6. Your best result on grass.

"Where'd that come from?" Lucas asked once you were alone. "Since when is your backhand so killer on grass?" he wondered. "I've never seen you pull off moves like that on grass."

"Just got inspired," you said, tossing your visor aside and slumping into the chair. "Can I have my phone now?" Lucas hadn't given it back to you yet, not as a punishment, but because you'd asked him to keep it. 

Lucas handed it over, eyeing you. "You're keeping something from me," he noted, scratching his beard. "But if it's what's making you play like a champ, I'm all for it," he said, grinning.

You brushed off your coach's voice, fingers darting to your Instagram. With a few taps, you found Leah's chat, eager to shoot her a message.

"Heyyy! How was your night?" you typed, your leg bouncing with impatience. Though you needed to hit the shower, the excitement of hearing from Leah consumed you.

"Hope you're not feeling too rough today; starting the week hungover would be nasty," you added, fingers hovering over the screen in anticipation. But as the moments passed, there was still no response from Leah, leaving you hanging in suspense.

A cold shower seemed like the perfect remedy to clear your mind, and thankfully, it did the trick. Lucas egging you on for extra drills, especially to fine-tune your backhand, also helped to distract you.

By dinner, any hope of hearing back from Leah had evaporated. You were so disinterested that you didn't even bother bringing your phone along. It wasn't until nearly ten, when you reached for your phone to set the alarm, that you noticed Leah's message—a voice message.

"Hey, fancy hearing from you!" Leah's voice chimed in, carrying that distinctive lilt that hinted at a potential afternoon spent dozing off. You could practically imagine her, wrapped up in blankets, nursing a post-party hangover. "Yeah, went out with some friends. We were celebrating the end of my mate's long-distance thing. Was fun, until they started getting all soppy, reminding me I'm the last single one in the group."

A groan slipped out before she continued, "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed with a sheepish chuckle.

Those messages had been sent around 4 pm, while you were deep into your training session.

The rest of the voice messages were sent after 7 pm.

"What the heck was up with your game today?!" came the first, followed by a chuckle "Just watched the highlights of your match. Seriously, what did that poor player do to deserve such a thrashing from you? She ain't an ex, is she?"

Then, a last voice message added, "Sorry if that sounded a bit too nosy. Just curious, you know?"

You chuckled, enjoying the sound of Leah's accent. It had this magical way of making you grin like an idiot, even when you were just staring at your phone screen.

But now, what really mattered was Leah's relationship status, she was single, confirmed without even having to pry. Knowing she was single now seemed like a game-changer. Suddenly, that whole thing with Wälti didn't matter anymore, Leah's path was crystal clear. Not that you were planning to make any moves to win her over; that was definitely not on your agenda, at least not for now.

“Remember, Wimbledon”

Oh… the other thing that hit you: Leah truly proved herself to be your fan. It blew your mind that someone recovering from a hangover would bother to watch highlights of your match just to chat about it later. She was the first person to do that, apart from your coach or family.

"Hey, I'm free tomorrow, at least from the matches. What do you think if I call you tomorrow?" you typed, feeling a rush of anticipation mingled with nerves as you crawled into bed.

Before closing your eyes, you couldn't resist checking your phone one last time. And there it was, Leah's response: "Sure, call me anytime tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."

With a grin stretching across your face, you drifted into the most peaceful sleep you've had in ages, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement settling deep within you.

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[prettyboykatsuki]

HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+

♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)

♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.

no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth

♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”  

You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.  

“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”  

Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.  

“Don’t make excuses for him,”  

“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”  

Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.  

(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred) 

There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.  

Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.  

“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”  

You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”  

He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”  

Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.  

“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.  

Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.  

His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.  

don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely? 

Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.  

(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.  

The reply is instant.  

don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.  

(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.  

don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome... 

don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day. 

Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.  

(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??  

don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?  

He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.  

(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel. 

don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy  

(sent 7:03) please don’t.  

don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love 

Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.  

(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”  

dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT]  

Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.  

He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform. 

 You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek. 

He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.  

__ 

“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”  

He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.  

“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh. 

“Morning.”  

You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.  

“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”  

He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?” 

Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.  

“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?” 

You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”  

“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.  

“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”  

“Stop being so nice to him.”  

You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.  

You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.   

“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”  

A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.  

“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”  

“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”  

He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead. 

“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.  

“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.  

“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”  

Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.” 

“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.  

“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”  

He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”  

__  

“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”  

Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.  

He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far. 

Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.  

It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye.  He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.  

“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”  

Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”  

 Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.  

Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now. 

You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low. 

It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.  

You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.  

Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.  

The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.  

 Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.  

Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.  

He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.  

“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.  

“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”  

“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”  

Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”  

“And how long will you be staying?”  

“About five days?”  

His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.  

“I still wanna go sightseeing.”  

He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.  

“Whatever,”  

The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.  

She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.  

“Let’s go to the little store place!”  

“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.  

“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.” 

It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.  

It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.  

At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.  

“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.  

“Fuck off.” 

Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.  

“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”  

“Please shut up.”  

Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.  

You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.  

__  

Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.  

He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.  

The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.  

There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.  

Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.  

You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.  

The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.  

After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.  

“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”  

Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”  

You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.  

“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”  

He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”  

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”  

The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.  

“Yeah. Go shower, already.”  

“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”  

__  

The room is unnaturally dim.  

There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.  

Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.  

Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.  

He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.  

After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop. 

“All done with your work?”  

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”  

“What were you actually doing?” 

“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”  

“Did you find anything?”  

You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”  

“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.  

“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”  

“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”  

You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”  

Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”  

“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”  

“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“  

His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.  

“Where are you going?”  

“To sleep on the couch.”  

“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”  

He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”  

You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”  

“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it. 

“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”  

Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.  

You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.  

He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.  

You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.  

“Thank you,”  

He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.  

He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.  

The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.  

Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.  

“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.  

“Night.”  

He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.  

 You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.  

__  

Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.  

You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood. 

You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.  

Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.  

After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.  

The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.  

So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.  

Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.  

You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.  

Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.  

A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.  

Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.  

“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”  

“What are you thinking?”  

You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”  

“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”  

Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.  

“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.” 

“Don’t worry so much.”  

“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.  

“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.” 

You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.  

You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.  

Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.  

“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.  

“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”  

You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”  

He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”  

The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.  

“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”  

Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.  

It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.  

He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.  

Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.  

On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof 

It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly. 

After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.  

At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.  

“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.  

The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.  

All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.  

It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.  

His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.  

He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.  

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.  

“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”  

Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”  

“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”  

“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.  

“Exactly,”  

“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”  

Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around. 

He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.  

You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.  

After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.  

Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.  

There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.  

Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.  

“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“  

Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole. 

__ 

He falls for a long time. It seems endless.  

His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.  

The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.  

He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.  

“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”  

After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.  

“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”  

Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”  

“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.” 

Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.  

“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”  

Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.  

“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”  

“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”  

You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.  

“What are you after?”  

“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”  

“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him 

“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’ 

“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”  

Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.  

 “How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”  

It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.  

Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but  he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this. 

He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”  

“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.” 

“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”   

He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue. 

 He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.  

“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream.  Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”  

He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.  

“Please,”  

A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.  

“Megumi-kun,”  

It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces  him onto you like a lifeline.  

He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.  

You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.  

“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”  

At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.  

He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.  

Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed  when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain. 

But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.  

You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want. 

 You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.  

Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.  

Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.  

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.  

“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.  

He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”  

He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.  

The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.  

He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.  

But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.  

You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.  

It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.  

The relief is burdensome almost.  

“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to…haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”  

Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”  

He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”  

Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.  

“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”  

“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”  

You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.  

“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”  

“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.  

Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.  

You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.  

“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.  

He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”  

You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug.  The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.  

“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”  

The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.  

Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.  

The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.  

A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.  

Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it. 

 It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.  

Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head. 

He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.  

Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.  

There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.  

Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you. 

“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”  

The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.  

He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.  

“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”  

You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.  

He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.  

You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.  

“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”  

It goes on like that for what feels like forever.  

He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help  but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.  

But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.  

Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”  

He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”  

“Why do you think that?”  

He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”  

Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”  

Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.  

“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”  

His throat suddenly feels so dry. 

 “What was…what did you see?” He asks.  

“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”  

He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right. 

Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…  

“Megumi-kun,”  

He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”  

A bated breath follows a sweet smile.  

“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”  

His reply is reflexive.  

“No you don’t,”  

You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”  

“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.   

“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”  

He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.  

He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.  

He won’t curse you after death, that way.  

He can’t find his voice.  

“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”  

When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”  

“You too. Don’t cry,”  

“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.  

“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”  

He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.  

He feels boneless, throat tight.  

“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.” 

So embarrassing. “Yeah…”  

“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”  

The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.  

“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”  

“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.” 

“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”  

He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”  

“You can’t run away, okay?”  

“I won’t,”  

“Even though I want to monopolize you?”  

He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”  

You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.” 

“Me too,”  

He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you. 

The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.  

“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.  

“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”  

“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?” 

You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”  

Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”  

__  

“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”  

Megumi grimaces.  

“No. Why are you even here?”  

Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.  

He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him. 

He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face. 

He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.  

“How long have we been out?”  

“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”  

He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”  

“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all  parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him.  “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner  desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.” 

Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”  

“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”  

Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.  

Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…” 

“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”  

“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”  

Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”  

He puts a hand on his shoulder  as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.  

“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.  

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”  

Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.  

“I love you,”  

“What are you saying?”  

You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”  

He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”  

You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”  

Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.  

__  

PROLOGUE:  

[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm] 

Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.  

He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.  

He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.  

He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.  

But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.  

He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.  

Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.  

“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”  

Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.” 

You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.  

“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”  

He stares at you. You smile knowingly.  

“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?” 

He nods.  

“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”  

You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.  

“What are you doing?”  

You smile again. 

“Messing with you,”  

He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.  

“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”  

“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”  

“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”  

Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.  

“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”  

“…Do you want me to get along with you?”  

You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.  

“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”  

“Why.”  

“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”  

“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.  

“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”  

“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.  

“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”  

“Huh?”  

You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”  

Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.  

“Why are you a sorcerer then?”  

Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.  

You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”  

He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.  

“You’re an idiot.”  

Your grin goes even wider.  

“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?” 

“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”  

[heejake-hoon]

Enhypen hyung line walking to you getting off

Tags: smut, soft dom hyung line, a lot of praising, i think the title is self explanatory

Heeseung:

The sound of the front door opening and closing barely registers in your pleasure-fogged mind as you lose yourself in the sensations your fingers are creating. Soft gasps and breathy moans fill the bedroom, your hips rolling to meet your touch as you chase your rapidly approaching climax.

Just as you're about to crest that peak, a low groan from the doorway makes your eyes fly open. There stands Heeseung, dark gaze fixed on your nude form, pupils blown wide with lust. He looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"Someone is so eager ha?" he rasps, voice rough with arousal. Heeseung leans against the doorframe, drinking in the erotic sight of you spread out before him, touching yourself so wantonly.

You flush under the intensity of his stare but don't stop the motion of your hand, emboldened by the raw hunger etched into every line of his face.

"Why don't you come over here and join me then?" you challenge breathlessly, arching into your touch with a sultry moan.

"Oh, I will..." Heeseung promises darkly, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin and toned muscle. "But first I want to watch you make yourself come. Want to see that pretty pussy fluttering around your fingers, hear all those desperate little noises you make when you're close..."

He shrugs off his shirt, letting it drop to the floor before palming himself through his jeans. You whimper at the erotic visual, his dirty words and heated gaze stoking the fire in your veins.

"Heeseung, please..." you keen, walls beginning to clench around your digits frantically as your orgasm builds.

"Fuck, you beg so sweetly," he praises, thumbing open the button of his jeans and drawing down the zipper tantalizingly slow. "Love it when you get needy for me... Come on baby, wanna see you let go..."

His voice is pure sin, deep and dripping with lust, and it sends you flying over the edge. You cry out sharply as ecstasy floods your system, back bowing off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Through the haze of your climax, you're vaguely aware of rustling fabric and then the mattress is dipping under Heeseung's weight. He crawls over you, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, licking filthily into you as his naked body covers your own.

"So fucking perfect," Heeseung growls against your lips, hips rolling to grind his hard, aching length against your sensitive core. "Love watching you fall apart... Could never get tired of seeing you like that."

He nips at your bottom lip before trailing biting kisses along the column of your throat, definitely leaving marks behind. You mewl, hands scrabbling at his back as he sets your nerve endings alight.

"Need to be inside you, baby," Heeseung pants, sucking a bruise into the swell of your breast. "Gonna fuck you so deep, make you scream my name... Wanna feel this pretty pussy coming on my cock again and again..."

"Yes, Heeseung please," you babble mindlessly, achingly empty and desperate to be filled. "Want you, want your cock so bad-"

With a possessive snarl, Heeseung pushes inside you to the hilt and you keen at the sudden stretch, legs falling open to accommodate the intrusion. He sets a ruthless pace, snapping his hips in sharp, deep thrusts that punch the breath from your lungs.

"Fuck, you take me so well," Heeseung groans, voice absolutely wrecked as he fucks into you mercilessly. "Love your tight little cunt, baby, fucking made for my cock..."

Lost to sensation, all you can do is hang on for dear life, nails raking down the flexing muscles of his back as he pounds into you. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room and you feel yourself rapidly approaching a second peak.

"Heeseung, 'm close," you whimper, legs beginning to tremble where they're wrapped around his pistoning hips. "Gonna come, gonna come on your cock-"

"Do it baby, fucking come for me," Heeseung commands, reaching between your bodies to circle your sensitive bud as he redoubles his efforts. "Wanna feel this pussy squeezing my dick, shit- I'm close too, gonna fill you up so fucking good-"

A particularly hard thrust paired with a deft flick of his fingers sends you hurtling over the edge with a broken scream of his name, eyes rolling back as your walls clamp down on him like a vice.

With a guttural groan, Heeseung follows you over, spilling deep inside you as his hips stutter erratically. He works you both through the aftershocks, stroking your trembling walls, wringing every last bit of pleasure from your willing body.

Jay:

 "Starting without me? Naughty girl..." Jay's amused voice cuts through your lustful haze, making your eyes snap open to find him leaning against the bathroom doorway, towel slung low around his hips.

He's clearly fresh out of the shower, raven hair damp and clinging to his forehead, rivulets of water traveling over the defined muscles of his chest and abs. The sight makes your mouth go dry.

Jay doesn't miss the way your gaze rakes over him hungrily and he smirks, slowly unwrapping the towel to reveal his hardening length. "See something you like, baby?"

Not breaking eye contact, he takes himself in hand, pumping lazily as he takes in your nude form laid out before him. "Fuck, you're so sexy... love watching you touch yourself. Gets me so hard..."

The visual of Jay stroking himself combined with his deep, rumbling dirty talk quickly sends you hurtling towards your peak.

"Jay... 'm close..." you whimper needily, walls beginning to flutter around your fingers as you chase your high.

"Don't come yet," he commands firmly, quickening his own pace. "Wanna watch you fall apart on my cock. Fuck, can't wait to feel you coming on my dick, baby- ahh fuck, I'm close too..."

With a groan, Jay strides forward, quickly replacing your fingers with his aching length in one smooth thrust. You cry out sharply as he fills you, already teetering on the knife's edge of climax.

"That's it baby, take it, fucking take it," he snarls through gritted teeth, hips pistoning furiously. "Gonna fill this pussy up so good, shit- come with me, baby, come on my cock-!"

Jake:

 "Oh fuck, baby..." Jake's choked moan makes you gasp, eyes flying open to find him staring at you with pure, unadulterated lust burning in his darkened honey gaze.

He's kneeling at the foot of the bed, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides, looking like he's barely restraining himself from pouncing.

"Don't stop," Jake grits out, voice strained. "Wanna see my pretty girl make herself feel good. Can I- fuck, please let me taste you..."

At your shaky nod, he dives between your thighs with a growl, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders. The first swipe of his tongue has you keening, back arching clean off the bed as he licks into your dripping center.

"Oh fuck, Jake, your mouth-!" you sob, fingers tangling in his golden curls as he devours you like a starving man.

Jake eats you out like he's dying for it, tongue fucking into you as he sucks your sensitive bud between his lips. Your thighs tremble around his ears as he takes you apart with quick, devastating flicks of his tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Jake, 'm gonna- fuck I'm gonna come-" you babble mindlessly, dissolving under his skilled ministrations.

He pulls back just enough to rasp, "Do it baby, come on my tongue, wanna taste you coming in my mouth, please-" before sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You shatter with a scream, seeing stars as your orgasm crashes through you. Jake works you through it, lapping at you until you've stopped shaking, brushing soothing kisses along your inner thighs as you catch your breath.

"Fucking perfect, baby... So good for me," he praises hoarsely, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a deep kiss, making you taste yourself on him. "Love making you feel good. Wanna do it again... and again... and again..." and that was exactly what he did, eating you out until you left his face all glistening with your wetness, struggling to pull out from his grasp as he didn’t stop.

Sunghoon:

You're sprawled out on the bed, one hand between your thighs, lost in pleasure as soft moans spill from your lips. So caught up in chasing your climax, you don't hear the front door opening or Sunghoon's footsteps coming down the hall.

"Baby, I'm ho-" Sunghoon's voice cuts off abruptly as he stops dead in the bedroom doorway, eyes widening at the erotic sight before him. His breath hitches, arousal slamming into him like a freight train as he watches you arch wantonly into your own touch, little whimpers falling from your mouth.

"Fuck," he rasps, the single word dripping with desire. The sound of his voice startles you and your head snaps up, hand stilling as your eyes meet Sunghoon's burning gaze.

"S-Sunghoon! You're home early..." you stammer, face flushing at being caught in such a compromising position. But Sunghoon is already striding towards the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor.

"Don't stop on my account, baby," he purrs, kneeling on the mattress and crawling over you predatorily. "Watching you touch yourself is so fucking hot... I want to see you make yourself feel good."

His long fingers close around your wrist, guiding your hand back between your thighs as he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. You moan into his mouth as he encourages you to continue, elegant digits sliding through your slick folds.

Sunghoon swallows your needy whimpers eagerly, tongue delving past your parted lips to claim your mouth thoroughly. He rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, stroking expertly and sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

Breaking the kiss, he mouths along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before rasping lowly, "That's it, baby girl... make yourself come for me. Wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make when you're desperate for it..."

Sunghoon's dirty words and skilled touch send you hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast. Your free hand fists in his dark hair as your back bows off the bed, high-pitched keens escaping your throat.

"Sung- ahh! I'm- I'm gonna-" you babble incoherently, thighs beginning to tremble as your peak rapidly approaches.

"Come for me, baby," Sunghoon commands, voice dripping with dark promise. "Let go, I've got you. Fuck, you're so perfect like this, wanna see you come undone..."

A few more firm strokes of his wicked fingers and you're flying apart with a sharp cry of his name, spots dancing behind your eyelids as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

Sunghoon works you through it, touching you just right to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. Only when the last aftershocks have faded does he withdraw his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips to taste your release.

"So good, baby," he praises roughly, eyes glinting with promise as he settles his weight over you. "But you didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you? We're just getting started..."

_

The way this was only a Sunghoon hard thought .... Sorry i got carried away in Heeseung's part :( no m not sorry. Anyways hope you enjoy ^^

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (9) - Shadows of the Past (M)

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 9 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,612

Work count for Story: 53,505

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs and the other loves everyone. I currently am not working because of a broken foot. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha Space, Luna vibes, close proximity, multiple scenting, M/M mature scenes, good boy, and feisty Beta vibes.

SIDE NOTE: This is my first time writing second-base smut into a story. 💜💜💜

This chapter has a mature scene between BTS members. If you are wanting to avoid this scene, at the start and end of the spicy part of the scene, the following banner will be displayed:

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

“Genevie Rose Elisey.” You growl out her name, step forward, and pull out of Yoongi’s tail. All eyes snap to you—well, all eyes except the little omega, who drops her eyes and scrunches her nose at the twist of your scent. 

You stalk forward and grip the back of her neck as if she were a kitten, scruffing her. Your scent has gone from sweet pea to something akin to lemons, almost acidic. The change in scent alerts your pack that you are not playing around.

However, the scent and display of Dominance causes a mix of reactions from the Alphas. Everyone here would be remiss in not recognizing who is currently in charge, and that does something to them.

Namjoon and the rest have seen you upset, but this… this is something else. While he is concerned for the Omega, not knowing what she had done to result in this type of reaction from you, he cannot pull his eyes away from how you hold yourself. It’s like you are taller and more assertive. 

Yoongi’s Alpha slams to the forefront when he sees you scruff the Omega. The feline mothering behaviors pull deeply at the primal aspect of the jaguar hybrid. His mind runs with thoughts of you scruffing cubs, but not just any cubs, his cubs. Shaking his head, Yoongi does his best to clear his mind and stay in the present; you are not his—yet.

Jimin is just lost. He has spent the least amount of time with you out of the pack. He has mostly been observing you and your interactions with his already-bonded mates. This Dominant, in-charge side of you is new and instinctively intriguing.

“Luna, I only meant to ensure they understood,” Evie says softly, trying not to offend you further. When the hybrid pack title is used, the three Alphas exchange glances of shock before settling their sights on you.

“It is not your place to remind others of something that happened when you were not present. In private, between our pack members, you can defend, rant, rave, and threaten all you want to,” you look to Derek.

“Both of you have always been able to protect the pack in emergencies and express yourselves freely in the pack house. However, I feel that you both may have lost where the line of respect is when it comes to individuals outside of the pack who hold importance. You both realize that these three Alphas hold the key to my survival?”

“Luna, we do. Honest, we meant only to support our pack and defend you, our Luna, in your territory.” Derek says, bearing more of his neck in submission as the acidic smell consumes your sweetness.

Gesturing to the Alphas in the room, “If any of these three or their mates are offended…”

“One word,” your voice drops deep and gravelly.  “One word is all it takes from either one of you, from me, and your Luna would be without a job, a home. Then where would we be?”

Once your words are spoken, it takes a breath for both family pack members to shrink farther down in submission. Neither one had considered that you could be fired for something they did or didn’t do.

That is why you are the pack’s Luna. While your Beta and Omega have to deal with customers or clients that are Alphas, they only have to deal with them in short amounts of time. 

Your contract with the Bantang Pack was not going to be short. Realizing that they need to treat the other pack as a pack, not a customer, dawns on them. 

More than ever, Derek wishes he understood why the Bantang Pack took this path with you rather than the typical courting method. Maybe one day, he can find out.

“You will not threaten Alpha guests or ANY guest in our pack house. I know you are protective of me, both of you are, but I am an adult and the Luna of this pack,” you move closer to the munchkin hybrid. 

“Thank you for your kind, yet oversharing words, Omega. But you need to apologize to them for planning to neuter them.” 

“Luna Y/n,” Jimin calls your attention quickly. The sound of him using your family pack titles pulls at something profound and instinctual within you.

“I think Your Omega is right, Luna,” says Jimin softly. “I think she is right about a few things.”

He pauses to collect his thoughts, which are running everywhere now that he has watched your eyes darken as you correct the misstep of your pack member and dilate at the use of the Luna title. 

His Alpha coming forward for the first time since he has been in your presence. He is watching you closely and is keenly interested.

“Respectfully, Luna, we are starting a mile behind because we never saw you coming. Not everyone in Bangtan Pack has connected to our Miss y/n in the same way, which is no one's fault. It means that some of us, mainly myself, have a lot more than a mile to get things right.”

“Jimin, you really...” You are cut off when Jimin gently takes your free hand and pulls you towards him. Dropping the scruff on the munchkin hybrid, she backs away and curls into the beta.

“Let me finish, Luna, please.” You nod, breath caught in your throat. “This whole situation, mates– playmates, came in an odd way, and we really should do things right by you.”

Taking your other hand, he says, “I want to do things right by you. I want to do the right things with you. I know you can’t smell our scents, but we meant what we said last night.”

“We all want to do things right by you, Princess,” says Yoongi.

“Miss Y/n, I came here for a reason,” Jimin says as his thumbs rub gently over your knuckles. 

“I wanted to meet your family pack and reassure them that we are going to treat you right, take care of you like one of our own, spoil you silly, and support you endlessly,” he says shyly.

Quickly glancing at Namjoon, Jimin focuses back on you, “Each mate wants to spend a day with you—just you. We will take time with you so that we can learn who you are and show you who we really are.”

Your eyes are glassy, and your scent is losing some of the acid as he continues, “Will you grant us the honor to take you out? Allow us the pleasure of getting to know each other on a personal level, Luna?”

Once you agreed to the outings with the Bangtan pack, Evie brought out the cookies. Of course, while she was feisty, her Omegan side always wanted what she called poofy scents around. Her cookies never failed to lighten the mood.

Namjoon and Evie stood in the kitchen. Evie cleaned up from baking the cookies, and Namjoon avoided everything as much as he could. This seemed to amuse Evie to no end. No animosity could be seen or smelt between the two.

Jimin took the time to speak with Derek while sitting on my bed. You were pretty sure that they were practically interviewing each other. That or Jimin was trying to learn more about you through the beta. Derek looked like he was having a serious conversation and was concerned about what he was saying.

You had gone out onto the small balcony to get some fresh air. Emotions running amok:

The shock of the unexpected guests. 

The embarrassment of Evie’s declarations.

The fear of retaliation from the Alphas for those same words. 

The flutters of your heart at the reorganization of your status by Jimin. The ease of the kind words of the Alphas.

“Is there a reason why the pack Luna has come outside?”

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, trying to suppress a shudder at the use of your pack titles again. “I am sorting myself. So much has happened this week. I am not sure it has sunk in yet.”

Walking up behind you, he grips the railing on each side of you. Effectively caging you in. Resting his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent as it has settled back into sweet pea and vanilla.

“Is there anything that can help?” he asks quietly.

“You three are not offended by Evie's words, right? Or by how I acted, even though I am not a hybrid?” You say, still looking over the street below.

A gentle scoff is heard: “Your feisty Omega thinks highly of her Luna, and Your Beta does as well. I am not sure you remember everything from the breakroom, but Your Beta expressed similar concerns to us then. Your pack is concerned for you.”

You chuckle softly, “Yes, that they are. They always have been. I feel like I am letting them down with my issues. Like I am not strong enough for the position they have given me.”

“They wouldn’t be able to follow you as their Luna if they didn’t trust you to lead them. Now, as far as your actions.” Yoongi’s voice deepens. 

His nose runs along the shell of your ear, leaving hot puffs as he breathes, “Your actions were a sight to see, Luna.”

Stepping closer to you, his hands resting on your hips and making your back flush with his front. His heat pours into you as you feel yourself relax slowly into him. 

“So, seeing a human do that wasn't offensive?”

“Offensive is not the word I would use for it.” Yoongi sounds amused as he raises his hand, trailing it along your body, lightly covering your throat to grip your chin. 

Turning your face to his, he lets out a purr that vibrates your whole body. His nose runs along yours. “Intriguing, captivating, alluring would be better words to describe how your actions made us feel.”

He scents your cheek with his as he whispers in your ear, “Did you think scruffing the young Omega would do nothing for my Alpha, Princess?”

Your breath becomes difficult as your body lightly shudders at his words. Your mind runs scenarios through your head. Yoongi’s lips on your neck, or his teeth leaving marks on your skin. Fighting your reaction the best you can, nails digging into your palm.

You want to lean into his touch more than you already have, but your mind screams that you can’t—not with the knowledge that he has mates, and some of those mates are just on the other side of the sliding glass door. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Finding your words is complicated when his scent of rain washes over you. In your mind, you keep chanting that the closeness means nothing; it’s a hybrid thing. 

No, this has to be an Alpha hybrid thing. 

Alpha Hybrid thing.

“I know, Princess. You were being a proper Luna. Too bad Jungkookie isn’t here. I would like to see him hold back like the rest of us are,” he says, stepping back. His eyes are drawn to the glass door and his mates on the other side. 

“Hold back?” You question, turning around and following his gaze into your flat. Your eyes connect with those of Jimin’s.

“I think he would like a word in private with you, Princess,” Yoongi says as he goes inside without looking back. He harshly whispers something to Jimin, who nods with his eyes never leaving yours.

“Sorry to disturb your time with Yoongi-hyung, Luna. May I join you?” He asks while remaining inside the flat.

“Of course, Jimin. You weren’t… ah, you weren’t disturbing anything,” you smile softly, willing for the heat of whatever that was with Yoongi to go away with the breeze.

“Thank you, Luna.” You giggle at his use of your title, which causes Jimin to look confused.

“You guys don’t need to call me Luna. They only use it when they are in trouble.” You wave your good hand in front of you as you smile brightly.

“Oh. Umm… I just didn’t want to disrespect you in your pack house. With your powerful display of strength and the level of respect and honor you require of your pack, I would only want to support that.”

“Thank you, Jimin. I really do hope that none of you were offended. I know Yoongi said that none of you are but still.”

“No need to worry. None of us were offended.” Jimin walks over to the railing and looks at the sky. “Do you want to know what Yoongi-hyung said to me?”

Moving to stand beside him respectfully, “Only if you feel comfortable telling me.” Your response pulls a soft smile from him.

“He told me; he demanded me to find a way to connect with you,” he says, taking a deep breath, allowing your vanilla mate and sweet pea scent to give him the strength to continue. His sweet orange scent starting to mix with Yoongi’s rain.

“What did Manager Sejin tell you about our last Playmate? Did he say anything about how she left or what she said?” he asks, glancing over quickly.

Standing up straighter, the question catches you off guard. “He didn’t go into great detail. He did say that she was a permanent Playmate but found love in a human and broke her contract; however, she said some not-so-nice things.”

“That’s how the PR department told us to say it. We can say enough to answer questions but not enough to tell what really happened.”

Turning to face you directly. You follow his lead, giving Jimin your full attention. Your soul is willing Jimin to find his calm and strength to continue. 

“Jimin, I would rather hear it directly from you or your mates if any of you wanted to share, but I am also satisfied with only knowing what I do.”

“Hobi and Yoongi-hyung never got along with any of the playmates. The rest of the pack could always get along with practically anyone. We should have known from the beginning something wasn’t right when Alpha Kook didn’t like her from the beginning. Even then, she was with us for about three years.”

“I think she was around for so long because of me. I grew attached to her deeper than anyone else did. I even took her home when we had some time off. My former owner and family pack were shocked that I brought home someone other than a mate with me.”

“We never did anything. I never cheated on Bangtan, but I still feel like a part of me fell for her in a way.”

“Not every mate is a soulmate like you and Bangtan are, Jimin,” you quietly add. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, “True. Hybrids do have packs with non-soulmate bonded mates. Typically, these are caused by a strong connection with them, but again, it is rare, nearly unheard of, for that deep connection to be with a human.”

“Oh, I see. Evie and I are practically sisters, which is a version of a soulmate, I feel. Then Derek came along and I felt like I found a piece of me that I never knew was missing. Now, he is a member of the pack.”

“I thought she might be something like that with you,” you say, looking inside and watching your pack laughing with the other two Alphas.

“Oh no. The pack you have gathered, Luna, is one of a kind. I am in awe of the connection they have with you. You are different with them.”

“Different? Oh no. This is me.” you giggle.

“You have seen professional and pained versions of me. Honestly, I tend to react on instinct. I have no filter. I have a passion for my friends and family.”

Biting your bottom lip, you continue, “Genevie was right about what she said, though. I tend to put those important to me before myself. I have always struggled with my mental health, but I am a total goof and geeky nerd. You will see; you all will.”

“I struggled with some depression back in 2018,” Jimin admits, bringing his attention back to you. “I was still struggling with it until, gosh… 2020.”

“Seul-ki, the Playmate, was contracted on January 17, 2019. Now that I look back, I think she knew that she was not being accepted by the pack. She clung to me for security through my insecurities.”

Your heart breaks at his story. Stepping closer, you rest your hand on his arm, trying to offer any modicum of support: “They say hindsight is 20/20, but that doesn’t mean what she did was right or that you didn’t mean something to her.”

Looking at your hand on his arm, a soft smile graces his face. After taking a few moments to be in the moment with you and accept your support, he places his hand on top of yours.

“That wasn’t the worst part.” Clearing his throat, wetting his now dry lips, he huffs before continuing. 

“I am not sure, but BigHit believes that she might have broken her contract and shared private information. Seul-ki fell in love with a reporter from Dispatch. We think they met while he was tailing us like they always do.”

“To top it off, when she left, she said some things that tore at our souls. We, ah… we made her skin crawl when our animals would come out. It was disgusting to see such handsome men turn into such filthy animals.”

You quickly pull Jimin into a hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your face buried in his neck. You are stunned by how hateful Seul-ki was to them.

Warm tears fall down your face and wet his neck, pulling a soft whine from him as he returns the hug. His arms wrap around your waist. You have always been emotional to others getting bullied because of your past.

“Sorry, Jimin. I am so sorry. Humans are mean and stupid. She shouldn’t have said that.  How can anyone say that? Something so barbaric,” you mumble into his neck. 

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Jimin says while rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

Leaning back, you wipe your face of the wet streaks, “You are so strong to come to PMS and look for another Playmate. Then you go and get stuck with me.”

“I know that we take a risk when we bring in a playmate. I was finally trying to get past what happened,” he pauses, searching your eyes. “I wasn’t ready to find you, and I am sorry that I kept away from you, but my Alpha got scared of my mates' reaction to you.”

“Please don’t worry about me. You can show me as much or as little of you without any negative consequences from me. You really don’t have to get any closer to me than you want to.” 

It's then that you realize you are engulfing the poor red panda.

Lowering your arms, you say, “I’m sorry,” and take a step back, only to be stopped by Jimin’s arms holding you tighter. “Jimin?”

“Just give us a second, please.”

Relinquishing your attempt at distancing yourself, you rest your arms around his shoulders again. Watching him map out every inch of your face. 

Being similar in height, you are eye to eye, allowing you to see his eyes' chestnut brown start to bleed through the whites and deepen into a darker reddish color.

Your breath catches in your throat, “Alpha Chim.”

A playful smile blooms on his face with a soft grunt, “Luna.”

The sound of your tiles coming from Alpha Chim feels like a wave of electricity falling over you, “Welcome to my packhouse, Alpha Chim.”. 

“Smell of Yoon."

“Yes, Alpha Yoon was with me before you came out. He scented me before going inside with your Prime Alpha and the rest of my pack. Is that okay, Alpha?”

“Mate scent, okay,” he says, raising his hand and almost cupping your face. “May I?"

“Yes, Alpha Chim,” you reply, tilting your head to expose your neck and closing your eyes. You have never been so thankful for wearing the sweetheart peasant shirt.

Jimin takes his time tracing your jawline and the outline of your ear. Then, as his fingers go down your neck to find your pulse point, he takes hold. He has a firm but comforting grip and massages your neck and shoulder. 

Now you can smell it, oranges. With Yoogni’s lingering scent,  you envision that this would be the smell of an orchard full of ripe oranges after a spring shower.

After a moment, his hand drops, but before you can straighten, you feel him move again. This time, he brings his nose to scent your skin where his hand was—finding the blend of Yoongi, your, and his scent. 

His warm breaths on your skin snap your eyes open, only to find you now have an audience. Pushing the Alpha away from you, he slowly releases you as he notices your sights are behind him.

“Princess. Jimin-ah. It's about time we head back to Bangtan packhouse,” Yoogni says with a knowing smile. Namjoon is standing behind him, questioning eyes trained on Jimin.

You nod and look at the Alpha holding you, and you are met with chestnut eyes, “Jimin?”

“Got it, Hyung.” He says, dropping his hold on you altogether. His posture has gone slightly stiff, but you don’t know if it's because his scenting was interrupted or something else.

Jimin went right inside. You felt like he was trying to find that distance again. You decided to wait just a few, take a few deep breaths of the pure, unscented fall air. It would allow you to collect yourself and give Jimin a chance to escape. Once back inside your flat, leaving was simple but dragged out. 

Evie had packed up the remaining cookies to be taken back to the rest of Bangtan. 

Derek and Jimin took your packed belongings to the waiting vans. 

Namjoon and Yoongi, clad in bucket hats and masks, went with you to talk with the manager about your absence. They were unwilling to let you do it on your own—something about potential confrontation and protecting you.

The building manager was a gentle older man who always greeted everyone with a smile and wanted to share some kind of treat when he had visitors.  Today, it was butterscotch chews, one of your favorites. 

After explaining the change in your job description and the requirement to be temporarily housed elsewhere, the manager said he would watch your flat. He also suggested that you put a temporary disruption of water, power, and gas utilities. 

After additional planning, Evie stayed behind to load your few plants into her car to care for at her house. Jimin and Yoongi went in one van to head back to the AirBnb.

Namjoon, Derek, and you went in the other direction to take Derek home since he carpooled with Evie. You weren’t entirely sure why he couldn’t just carpool back, but maybe the plants taking up too much space in Evie’s car had something to do with it.

The van had hardly been in motion when the Guardian of Y/l/n Pack came out of the lovely Beta fox.

“Prime Alpha, how do you think your pack will handle the dating Y/n?” Derek asks bluntly.

Apparently, the plants had nothing to do with his persistent need to hitch a ride with you and the Prime Alpha. Internally, you groan at your pack's bluntness and wonder why they have taken an informal approach to the Bantang pack. It's like they are testing to see if you are worth being around them.

“Derek!” you say, shocked. “They are not dates. They are outings to get to know each other. You know very well that they are a mate-bonded pack. You’re writing our contract!”

“Yes, I am well aware of your contract. I am also aware they left out their standard rut clause, and both sides are still requiring a full physical with inclusive testing.” He responds, rolling his eyes, “but that doesn’t explain how they will react to their non-dating dates with you.”

“Mr. Gulley, I understand your concern for your Luna,” Namjoon interjects. “Spending time individually with our previous playmates was normal for us because that is what any playmate is for. We also go out in pairs or small groups for outings.”

“The pack discussed it throughout today, and everyone is on the same page. We understand that some of us, such as Yoongi-hyung, have connected with your Luna on an instinctual level.”

“Others have expressed wanting that same level of connection with her,” he says, his eyes focused on you. “Jungkook, Seokjin-hyung, and now Jimin-ah have already started trying to connect. So far, no one has shown any signs of territorial dominance over your Luna.”

“Territorial dominance?” you ask.  Internally, you remind yourself not to melt at the continued use of your Luna title.

Derik answers, “Evie gave us a wonderful display today of how  Omegas and Betas are protective of the pack or pack house.”

“However, Luna, imprinting or becoming territorial towards a single member of the pack is common with Alphas. This can cause the remaining pack members to need permission to interact with the chosen member.”

“But I am not in their pack.” Looking at Namjoon, “I am not a member of your pack, Prime Alpha. Right?”

“Technically, you are not at this point. We cannot officially bring you into the pack, even as a temporary member, until the contract is finalized after your medical appointments.” Namjoon says, attempting to withhold his disdain for having you continue to think everything is temporary.

“Temporary pack member. You want me to be a temporary pack member. Are such things as temporary members? Can I be in two packs like that? What would I be in Bangtang Pack? I can’t be Luna to a pack of Alphas! Derek, what will happen to our pack?”

“The family pack with Evie and I will remain with you as our Luna. Nothing will ever change that. We will always have a place for you. While you are busy with your other pack, the leader tends to fall to the next in line, which is me.”

“Are you okay with that? Evie and you fight like cats and dogs… well, cats and foxes. You are also an amazing Beta and always take good care of her. You have taken care of both of us when we needed it. You also have Mathew, who can help if needed, I suppose.”

“Not to worry. I will be fine, Luna. Evie and I talked about it briefly when you were on the balcony. We are going to have dinner tomorrow with Mathew to settle a few things.” Derek smiles.

“Okay, you can always call me, though. I am still here,” you reassure him. “When are my appointments and the final meeting to sign the contract?”

“Ah yes,” Derek says, pulling out his phone. “Your medical appointment is tomorrow morning at 9:30 a.m. at the Bangtan Packhouse, and the contract signing is two days later at PMS, but the time hasn’t been confirmed yet.”

“Once the contract is completed with the Bangtan pack, you will gain access to the pack’s group and individual schedules. As to where you will fit within the pack dynamic, that is something you will just have to feel that out as the pack gets to know you and you to know them.”

“Jimin-ah, when I asked you to connect with Y/n, did you think I was trying to push you?” Yoongi asks the younger Alpha, sitting on the bench seat with unfocused eyes.

Shaking his head, he says, “No, but I couldn’t… no, I didn’t want to stop.��

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asks with concern.

“I came with Namjoon-hyung so that I could learn more about her. I thought that being in her pack house would be able to show me something. But, the closer we got to her flat, the more restless my Alpha got.” 

Jimin pauses to take a deep breath. “Then, when she went from Miss Y/n to Luna, I felt her energy, prowess, and dominance, and it intrigued my Alpha. He kept pushing to call her Luna just to see her reaction every time.”

“The lemon of her scent when she was in her Luna mode mixed so well with my orange. Then add on her natural sweet pea, your petrichor, hyung’s leather, and the vanilla mate scent,” groans. “It was so much. I can’t describe it.”

“Oh no, I get that. Trust me. My Alpha and I both reacted to her ‘little’ show. That is why I followed her outside. We had to be near her, get my hands on her, scent her. It’s irritating that she doesn’t recognize the mate scent and bonds that are forming yet.” Yoongi reminisces. 

“But, Jimin-ah, what happened when the two of you were alone?” Yoongi asks, moving to sit on the bench. 

After Yoongi moves, Jimin lies down with his head in the older Alpha’s lap, “I told her about Seul-ki.”

A soft gasp of shock comes from Yoongi. Immediately, the younger alpha is covered in soft rain, followed by fingers running through his hair.

“She cried for us. She apologized for what Seul-ki did. She promised that I could stay away, and she would be okay with it,” Jimin says softly. 

The weight of your words made his chest tight, “My Alpha came out and scented her, hyung. He accepted her declarations but got skittish when you came to get us.”

“Sorry to have interrupted that moment for you, Minnie. I know it's been a while since your Alpha has initiated scenting with anyone.”

“I don’t understand it, hyung. It’s like my heart is everywhere, and my mind is trying to keep up after staying away.” 

Yoongi watches as silent tears start to fall from his mate's eyes. Hooking a hand under Jimin’s neck and lifting, Yoongi leans down and softly kisses away the tears.

Jimin’s eyes flutter at the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on his skin. The jaguar's soft purr is heard as his kisses start covering the younger mate’s face. 

Opening his eyes, Jimin cups Yoongi’s face, which pauses his kisses. “Yoongi-hyung, please.”

“I got you, my Minnie love,” Yoongi says as he leans down, lightly brushing his lips over Jimin’s.

A soft whine leaves Jimin before he moves to be more in Yoongi’s lap. His knees are curled against the back of the bench seat, and he is chest-to-chest with the jaguar. Yoongi continues to leave almost phantom kisses on Jimin’s lips. 

Once settled, Jimin rests one hand on Yoongi’s chest, his other hand sliding around to the back of Yoongi’s head with another whine.

“What is it you want, my Minie love? Use your words,” Yoongi teases with a slight nip to Jimin’s lower lip. 

“Alpha, help settle my… my everything. Mate, Alpha, kiss me, please,” Jimin begs, gripping the older Alpha with both hands.

“Hmm, there is my good boy,” Yoongi smiles, tightening his grip on Jimin’s neck and securing his other hand on the younger man’s thigh. 

Jimin instinctually tenses. After all, he is still an Alpha, and being trapped isn’t normal.  Breathing in for a few seconds, Jimin connects with their personal mate bond. It is almost instantaneous, and the younger man sighs in relief and relaxes into the security his mate’s hold provides.

Once that change happens, Yoongi kisses Jimin, grounding Jimin’s thoughts and feelings away from what has happened in the last week, bringing him to the here and now. 

Yoongi’s scent fills Jimin’s every breath.

Yoongi’s body heat penetrates Jimin’s very core.

Yoongi’s mouth pulls to be Jimin’s sole focus. 

It’s not a pretty kiss. Jimin is so scattered that the typically controlled minx of a mate is everywhere. The passionate pace with which Jimin attacks Yoongi makes the exchange wet and sloppy. 

Yoogni matches the intensity of the kiss and follows Jimin's pace. As turned on as he was at the Y/n display as Luna, he knows this is not about him.

When Jimin licks at the seam of Yoongi’s mouth, he immediately gives in, allowing the young Alpha to explore and try to find some form of control. 

Jimin's taste is beautiful, and the feel of his tongue tangling with Yoongi’s is mesmerizing.

However, Jimin doesn’t want to be in charge. He wants the older Alpha to put him in his place. So he changes tactics, sucking not so gently on Yoongi’s tongue, pulling a groan from the older mate. With that delicious sound, Jimin knows he won't stay passive much longer. 

After seven years of learning what every noise, scent change, and muscle movement means, it isn’t hard to play each other like a fiddle. 

One more harsh suck of Yoogni’s tongue, matched with a tug of his hair, causes both of the older’s hands to grip tightly. Yoongi’s hips jerk up, aching for some friction.

Pulling away from Yoongi, Jimin says in a sultry voice, “Something wrong, Alpha?”

“No, but I think you might want to ask yourself that,” Yoogni smirks. Quickly, he uses the grip on his neck to angle Jimin’s body to lay across his lap, with his back resting against the side of the van.

Confusion furrows Jimin’s brow, “What do you…Ahhh!” Jimin’s thoughts are cut off at the feel of Yoongi palming his growing erection. 

Cupping Jimin’s length through his tight, dancing pants, Yoongi slowly moves his hand up and down. Relishing every twitch of the younger mate’s member.  

When God created Jimin as a short man, it was because someone added inches to the wrong leg. Out of the mates, Jimin was unmatched in length. 

Paying attention with a tighter grip at the head, “What was that, Minnie?”

“Alpha... Ahh... aaalphha,” whines Jimin as he starts to rut into Yoongi’s hand. M…mooore please, Alpha.” Any dominance or control the younger mate thought he had from before was lost in the waves of pleasure Yoongi granted Jimin.

Glancing out the dark-tinted windows, Yoongi is starting to recognize some of the surroundings, meaning they are close to the packhouse. “You think you can finish before we get to the packhouse, Minnie? Are you going to be a good boy and give me your release?”

“Yes, yes, Alpha. Please let me, Alpha. I’m a good boy, please,”

“Mmm… I do love it when you are my good boy. Asking so politely,” Yoongi quickens his speed, which causes the red panda to groan unapologetically. 

The graceful bend of his cock barely keeps the young mate's impressive length below his waistband. A dampness started to form on Jimin’s pants from the pre-cum steadily leaking out. 

The sight is making Yoongi’s mouth water. Seokjin may have an oral fixation, it was Yoongi with the tongue technology. The jaguar hybrid’s textured tongue was a bonus for his mates when his desire to drink them dry took over. 

A brief moan escapes Yoongi at the thought of what you would taste like and how you would react to the feel of his tongue on your skin and in your various depths. A high-pitched whine from the panda in his lap brings Yoongi back to his current task.

Changing his rhythms, Yoongi brings Jimin closer to their goal, their aroused scent growing thick in the air. Yoongi makes a note to compensate the driver for his discretion and for taking an extra long route back.  

Slipping his hand down to play with Jimin’s taught balls, “Ohh Minnie,” squeeze, “My good boy is sooo heavy. You’re so full. Have you been saving it for me? Hmm, my good boy?”

While Yoongi may be playing his body like a pro, it’s Yoongi’s words that bring Jimin into a headspace of comfort and grounding. Purring the words out, he says, “Good boy. Such a good boy for me. Saving everything for me. How I wish to swallow you all up, but that will have to be for another time.”

Glancing up one more time, Yoongi can see the packhouse gate. With a firm squeeze, Yoongi palms Jimin with a tempo fast enough that Jimin can only go along for the ride. His muscles strain to hold on just a little longer as the coil in his abdomen winds tighter.

His whines and pleas are like music to Yoongi’s ears. Mixes of Alpha, too much, don’t stop, good boy, and please fire off in random order from Jimin as he holds on for dear life. He is curling into himself as he builds higher and higher.

Yoongi solely focuses on the pleasure displayed on Jimin’s face. He encourages the red panda to lose himself in the heat of the moment, praises him for being such a good boy, and always reminds the young mate that Yoongi has him. 

At the sound of silence followed by a gasp, Yoongi knows Jimin is right there and waiting for his Alpha, like a good boy.

Tilting Jimin’s head back and into his shoulder, Yoongi growls one command before biting over Jimin’s mating mark, “Cum.”

The reaction is immediate and without thought. Jimin lets out a high-pitched whine with his back bowed as he gives Yoongi his release. Rutting against the older man’s palm, he rides out his high, giving everything to the older mate as a good boy should. 

“Look at you. Such a good, messy boy cumming for me,” Yoogni says, his eyes now admiring the sizable dark patch showing on Jimin’s pants. “I think you deserve a reward for being such a good boy. Don’t you agree, my Minnie love?”

“Yes, please. Good boy for Alpha.” Jimin huffs between breaths, his unfocused eyes searching Yoongi’s face for what to do next.

Namjoon may be the Prime Alpha, but Yoongi was one of the Dominants in the pack when it came to different forms of pleasure. Yoongi has set rewards and aftercare requirements for all his mates.

“When we finish parking, you will wait for your reward in my den. Understood?” instructs Yoongi softly, running his hands over Jimin’s thigh and massaging his neck.  

“Yes, Alpha.”

After dropping Derek off at his apartment, Namjoon, having explained that everyone should be home already, you both decided to bring home dinner. This time, the Pack Alpha picked the meal.

The food smelled divine but spicy, which worried you because spice was definitely not your thing. However, you were reassured that only a little over half of the food was spicy because Taehyung couldn’t handle spicy either.

Once at the packhouse, Seokjin helped Namjoon bring your bags and dinner inside, allowing you to carry only your purse. You were surprised that Yoongi or Jungkook were not waiting for you. 

Reminding yourself that they have a house full of mates that would also need some of their attention, you attempt to push any negative feelings away. You had better not get used to monopolizing any of their time starting now. 

Going into what would officially be your room by the end of the week, you looked around and imagined what you would do with it. It’s not like it's permanent-permanent, but still, having a plant or some books. Maybe photos of your pack would be nice.

Agh, first you have to do something with the bed. You were given a lot of pillows and blankets, but they were piled in various ways. It would be what your mom would call “a down-right mess.” Letting out a deep sigh of sadness, you started to rearrange everything. 

Putting things back into what would be considered a proper bed. Laying the pillows at the top of the bed and smoothing the blankets as flat as possible with one good hand.

Growing up in a family that insisted on perfection, you always hated making your bed in the mornings. Keeping your room clean and having a 5-star hotel-looking bed helped overshadow some of your shortcomings. 

Your friends in Colorado were always impressed with your cleanliness, which was a point of pride and joy for your mother. One of the few things your mother would praise you about was a spotless bed and awards from horseback riding competitions. 

Once you moved to California, Evie and her siblings never understood why your mother would yell about your bedding habits. You always tried to brush it off and avoid having sleepovers at your place because of it. 

“Y/n?” The sound of your name being called pulls you from your thoughts as you look to the doorway to find Hoseok.

“Hi, Hoseok-ssi. Did you have a good day today?”

“Hi. Yeah. Just got some new things this Airbnb didn’t have for the pack.” Looking around you with concern, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Umm… no, well, the dining room in a moment,” you answer, looking around to ensure you are done.

Standing and walking to him, you say, “I think Jin and Prime Alpha should have everything set out by now. We stopped for takeout at JinCook, a local Korean restaurant nearby.”

Even though you walk closer to him, his eyes stay focused on your bed.

“I'm sorry my bed is still messy. It's harder to make it with only one hand than one would think. I would have made it this morning, but I was in a rush.”

“I am not… it’s not… it’s well made. You make a bed better than half the people I know, but why? It's already getting darker outside, and you will be sleeping soon.” He asks, his eyes finally looking at you.

“Mother always said, ‘If you make your bed every morning, you will have accomplished the first task of the day, and if you cannot do the little things, then you can never do the things worth being recognized for.’” you recite the words that have been ingrained in you for years.

“Your mother said that? She made you break down… I mean, remake your bed every day?”

“Yep, and I would be in trouble if I didn’t. There’s nothing wrong with making your bed and keeping a clean house, Hoseok,” you pat his arm and move past him, heading to the dining room. 

Hoseok remains in the doorway. Glaring at the bed and processing what you said.  Soon, the smell of cherries grows more substantial, “Jin.”

“Hello, Hoba,” he stops, glancing over Hoseok’s shoulder, “Where is Y/n?”

“She went to the dining room, but look,” he moves to the side, allowing the eldest mate to look at your room.

Looking in, Seokjin smiles. He sees that you used the travel gear he left for you, and it pleases his Alpha to provide something. 

His eyes then travel to your bed, smile dropping, “Her nest.”

“She tore it down, hyung. I caught her trying to fold corners with one hand, and then she apologized for it still being messy,” Hoseok says, his voice hushing with astonishment.

“What? First off, she needs to teach me how to make those corners, but more importantly, why?” he comments and asks as he walks farther into the room. 

“Jin! Hoseok! Jimin! Yoongi! Jungkook! The food is going to get cold,” you yell from the dining room. 

They both look towards the dining room, “She knows about nests. She told me last night when we helped gather materials. She keeps emphasizing that she was making a blanket fort or human nest.”

“Namjoon said there was an interesting interaction at her pack house, and she asked Yoon and Minnie if they were offended by what she did because she was human.”

“What did she do?” Hoseok asks, turning his attention back to his mate in the room. 

“I didn’t get details other than she proved why she is the head of her pack. Well, that and she has a feisty Omega,” Seokjin informs Hoseok. 

“She may know what it is, but does she understand what it means to us? Or that we would be okay with her keeping it? Rather, we would want her to keep it, right?” Hoseok worries.

Taking Hoseok’s hand and gently kissing the back, he heads toward the dining room. “Of course, she could keep it. I don't know what she knows about nests, but I did mention that she should build one with Jimin.”

Hoseok stops abruptly with a gasp. Hurrying back to your room, he shuts the door while glancing at the stairs, “Jin-hyung, could you imagine how Jimin would react to seeing her nest gone?!?”

“Even though he didn’t say anything, he looked happy to see her have one. It's something to connect with her about,” Hoseok says, rejoining Jin. “Her nest and the inclusion of the pack are what made him confident about seeing her this afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah, no. He doesn’t need to see that,” Jin agrees.

The boys find their seats and start to dig in. Shortly after, the remaining three joined the table with wet hair and looked ready for bed. You note they all look still pink from their showers and wonder how hot they take them. 

Dinner was yummy, all thanks to your non-spicy companion sitting next to you. Taehyung saved you more than once from eating something that you were sure would equal the death of your stomach.

Conversations were more manageable than yesterday. Everyone seems to talk around or over the others. They randomly jump from topic to topic. It’s a bit of chaos, but they are mates, and it feels oddly domestic.

Not once did you feel unable to keep up. However, after you yawned for the “millionth time,” according to Yoongi, you were ushered off to bed. You knew the boys had to be tired, but they all seemed far from ready to sleep. 

You crawl into bed after changing and using the skincare products left in your bathroom. You spend the next few minutes pushing, pulling, stuffing, and rebuilding your little blanket fort. 

This time, you try out Jimin’s body pillow, Taehyung’s blanket, and Hoseok’s pillow, even though you really want to use the ones left by Yoongi and Jungkook. You figure that this would be the first small step to pay attention to them equally. 

It's not professional to have favorites, right?

Once you close your bedroom door, the dining room goes silent. They all listen to your movements before anyone says anything. As soon as nothing is detected, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin are the pack's sole focus. 

“I guess a pack meeting is in order for a few reasons,” Namjoon starts. 

“A few reasons? That is one way to put it,” Jungkook chuckles, his eyes roaming over to Yoongi and Jimin before settling back on the Prime Alpha. 

“I will let Yoongi explain Y/n’s living situation first. Then, we will talk about how things went with her family pack, answer any questions, and make any necessary plans. Yoongi-hyung?”

All eyes shift to the jaguar, stoic-faced as ever, weighing how to explain anything that has happened today.

“Well, Y/n lives closer to PMS in the Downtown LA area with rather high crime rates. My Alpha is not happy about that. Her building doesn’t have any gates or locks to get into the building,” Yoongi starts with the most concerning part of the visit for him as your protector. 

“Even though she lives on one of the upper levels, she only has a simple deadbolt and chain to keep herself safe.” Sounds of displeasure rise in the room, but they are still respectful to you sleeping nearby.

“When I went to drop her off, she wouldn’t let me in her flat. She mentioned a nearby place she frequents for coffee, tea, and food. It’s really a gem of a place and could easily grow with the right guidance, but that isn’t the issue,” he continued.

“If it’s a gem, why is there an issue, hyung?” asks Taehyung, who was thinking of ways to help the business before the crypticness set in.

“Carlo, a domestic Mexican dog Hybrid, runs it. He said his hybrid side is called a Chamuco. Anyway, he runs the kitchen and orders the food. He is happily mated to his wife, and they are waiting for their second litter.” 

The pack smiles at the happy news, but their faces still show confusion about where the issue is.

“His business partner, Payu, is a Thai human infatuated with Y/n. He got defensive with me regarding her, especially when I couldn’t explain my intentions or who I was,” Yoongi tries to tell his mates without a hiss. 

“She is a lovely person. I am not surprised that she has admirers and it’s nice that she has someone that looks out for her. His crush will fade eventually,” Seokjin comments, still confused about why it’s a problem.

“No, Hyung. He told me he planned to ask her out the next time she stopped by the cafe.” Yoongi stressed how soon things may get even more complicated.

“She is living here now, so going all the way to the cafe will be hard. We just need to make sure to avoid the area. Send its location to the pack chat, Yoongi.” Namjoon instructs, giving no more for discussion.

Nodding at the order, Yoongi does just that. The ping shows a photo of the two owners in front of the business doors. 

“I know we all want to keep her safe, which we can while she is here, but we cannot do anything right now about her flat being where it is. However, it is rather small for a pack house,” Namjoon continues.

“Yeah, I am pretty sure that the whole packhouse could fit in our current living room,” Jimin comments. 

“Seriously?” Hoseok exclaims but is quickly hushed by the other pack members. “Sorry. How does she have the basics needed for survival in a small place? You said it was the packhouse, too?”

“Yeah,  her family pack would refer to it as the packhouse. It haaaas enough to get by, I guess,” Jimin shrugs. 

“I spoke with her beta, that fox hybrid from her work,” he says, looking around, making sure everyone remembers who he is talking about. “He says that the packhouse moved there about two years ago, and about a month after she accepted him to the pack.

“Who accepted him to the pack?” Jungkook asks, his ears standing tall, and he starts thinking of how to impress the Alpha of your pack. 

With a smile remembering the moment in the flat when the pack dynamics took over, Jimin looks directly at the youngest Alpha, “Their Luna, Y/n.”

Jungkook’s bunny ears drop at this newest information, “Luna Y/n… Y/n is the Pack Luna… like the head of the pack is our Y/n?”

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin nod as they watch the rest of the pack process the information. 

Seokjin and Hoseok seem shocked, but this makes sense, given how you have behaved around them thus far. However, they still wonder why you keep getting shocked at some of their Alpha behaviors, as you act as the equivalent of an Alpha in your pack. Wouldn’t you know these things already?

Jungkook, on the other hand, is going through so many emotions. His mind is filled with images of him scenting you, his mate, who is also a Luna. God, if he had known that last night… 

“Does she acknowledge herself as Luna, or is it like an honorary or teasing title between friends?” Jungkook asks, his face almost as stoic as Yoongi’s, “Hyungs, be serious, please. Honestly, is she a Luna?”

Clearing his throat, Yoongi leans forward with a smirk, “Put it this way… After Her Omega decided to threaten the pack with being neutered, Luna Y/n scruffed the Omegan cat to remind her of her place in front of everyone.”

The tension rises as the thought of you holding any type of power intrigues and entices each of them in different ways. Most of their minds wander to ways of getting you to use that power with or around them, dominating and controlling different situations. 

On the other hand, some want you to relinquish that power and control, allowing them to dominate your every sense, getting you to relax fully into their Alphas, and accepting the safety they will provide you. 

“In the heat of the moment, she is by all means ‘Luna Y/n’ with no questions asked,” Jimin interjects. “However, when I called her Luna, she became flustered and was concerned about her and her Omega offending us.”

“Let's just say Y/n has had to do many things and has become skilled in ways that most humans wouldn’t even try properly. She certainly doesn’t abuse that power like some more dominant humans do.  Though, I am not convinced that even Y/n knows where she stands in the overall scheme of things,” the Prime Alpha comments.

Looking at each of his mates, Namjoon says, “I spoke with her Omega. I learned a decent amount about Y/n interactions with Mrs. Genevie’s family pack. What concerns me was Genvie explaining that Y/n took to the pack quickly, almost as if she was an orphan.”

“An orphan?” questions Seokjin. “What about her mother or father?”

Namjoon’s face fell, “After talking with both members of her pack, I only learned that she came to California with her mom and brother. Her mom made sure she never talked about her father or that side of the family.”

Seokjin and Hoseok share a look, both remembering what you did to your nest.

“I think her mom was quite controlling and..” Seokjin pauses, looking at Jimin. “And I think she has something against hybrids. Which doesn’t make sense because Y/n’s mom allowed her to be friends and interact with her Omega’s family pack.”

“Why are you looking at me? Why do you say that, Hyung?” Jimin asks, scooting forward in his chair. His orange scent is curled with worry. His eyes look between the two older mates as they share his concern.

“We all saw that she made a nest with our things when we left this morning. Before she came in here, I was talking with her and well… she made her bed,” Hoseok says with his eyes never leaving Jimin. 

“Wha..What do you mean?” Jimin pushes.

“I mean, she tore down her ‘blanket fort.’ Put our extra materials at the foot of the bed, and it looked the same as when we arrived for the very first time,” Hoseok explains. 

“She didn’t break it down because she wanted to. She broke it down because her mother drilled it into her to do so—to the point that she would get into trouble if she didn’t,” adds Seokjin while slightly glaring at Hoseok.

Jimin stands and paces behind his mates' chairs. He is trying to keep the memories at bay—the memories of his former owners—the voices of his former owners scolding him, the feeling of worthlessness, and the sounds of flesh beating into flesh. Did you live like that, too? Were you raised to be someone who you really are not, just like him?

Most hybrids were purchased or raised by the small percent of the world who had more money than they knew what to do with. Jimin’s mother was pregnant with him when she was bought. After he was born, they trained him to be a showpiece.

They thought that because he was male and a bear, that automatically made him an Alpha. 

As a young boy, Jimin was soft and cuddly. He learned to build nests from his Omega mother, but they had to hide them. If their owners saw him build or sleep in a nest, they would tear it down and beat him.

After he presented as an Alpha, they would beat him if he displayed any non-Alpha behaviors, such as scenting, cuddling, purring, and even denning, which was the Alpha equivalent of nesting, but the stupid humans didn’t know any different.

It wasn’t long after he presented as an Alpha that his mother passed away. When they attempted to breed her again, she was too old to carry cubs. The owners didn’t care. All they knew was that she was a sow that had successfully had other cubs, so why not more?

Once his mother passed, Jimin shut down and became the perfect Alpha for his owners. He was the perfect gentleman at events and the amazingly attentive ‘toy’ for their close friends, male or female. 

The only time Jimin felt like himself was when they went to extravagant galas, and they would make him dance with anyone willing to spend money. He would lose himself in the music. 

It wasn’t until his owner’s best friend mentioned how Jimin’s flexibility and graceful movements would look beautiful on stage that he found some form of reprieve. 

That reprieve came in the form of schooling. His owners sent him to a performing arts University to learn several dance, writing, and singing styles. The goal was to find more ways to make money off of Jimin. 

During this time, a scout approached him and asked if he was interested in becoming an idol. After some discussion, Jimin jumped at the chance to be an Idol. It would allow him to escape his owners and find his freedom. 

Luckily for him, not only did he find his freedom, he found his mates. 

The pack took the new information to heart and agreed to use the pack nesting room tonight for the first time. It would allow the pack a chance to connect again, and, with all the disturbing news, they all needed the comfort. 

It took Jimin and Taehyung about 15 minutes to build up to an acceptable level of comfort. Using some of the new bedding that Hoseok had gotten to replace what they had given you.

Seokjin lay against the far wall under the large panoramic window. Jimin pressed his back into his front. Finishing the Jimin sandwich was Yoongi. Seokjin and Yoongi wrapped their arms around Jimin to ground him to the present. Both of the older Alphas saw the shadows of the past haunt their precious panda’s face and wanted to offer solace for him.

Jungkook and Taehyung were cuddled together on Yoongi's side. The former became the latter’s pillow for the night. Taehyung curled an arm around the bunny, and the other hand was tucked into Yoongi’s hair, absent-mindedly scratching his scalp behind his ears. 

Hoseok smiled at his mates, already hearing soft snores from a few but noting that the Prime Alpha had not yet joined. Listening through the house, he could hear movement down the hall.

Softly closing the door to the pack nest, Hoseok went to find the missing Alpha. It didn’t take long to find him as he was pacing the dining room and kitchen. His eyebrows furrowed, his tail hanging low, almost touching the ground, and he seemed to be in his own dark world. 

“Prime Alpha?” Hoseok calls softly, trying not to startle his leader. 

The calling of his title snaps Namjoon out of his thoughts, “Hoseok-hyung, why are you still up?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he responds, walking closer to him. The Prime Alpha’s faint leather scent tells Hoseok more than enough. Closing the distance, the marten pulls his wolf mate into a tight hug.

Melting into the hold of his mate, Namjoon breathes in his lilac and vanilla scent. Allowing the presence of the pack’s sunshine mate, as they call him, to calm the racing and running of Namjoon’s mind into something more manageable. “Are we doing the right thing by Y/n?”

“Oh, Joonie. I know I was harsh, and the pack didn’t respond well to your idea, but I think it was the only way you thought would help us keep her,” comments Hoseok, rubbing his back in comforting circles. 

“I believe the mate bond is already starting to work magic, Joon. She may be human, but she isn’t immune to it. Remember last year you read all those studies?” Hoseok questioned.

“I remember. You were so interested in the results. They showed that humans can respond to the bond just as strongly as a hybrid, but they just take a while to recognize it.”

“She won’t be mad that we are lying to her? That we are doing all of this with alternative intentions? That I am a horrible Prime Alpha because I didn’t act on the bond right away?” Namjoon asks rapidly. 

“Joonie… Joon…” Hoseok tries to interrupt, “Alpha!” The title again stops Namjoon from continuing to spiral. Pulling back from the hug, Namjoon looks at Hoseok with his eyes, searching for answers that he knows only Y/n holds. 

“Prime Alpha, Namjoon, our wolfie,” Hoseok coos. “Y/n may be all those or none of these. Just know she is also kind. She seems to be just as insecure about everything as we are.”

Namjoon’s eyes focus again on something Hoseok cannot see, “I want to talk with her family pack again without Y/n. At least I would like to let them know she is our mate. Maybe they can help us.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Joon!” smiles Hoseok. 

“Do you think maybe we should all meet with them, just me or a few of us?” Namjoon asks as his focus returns to the mate in his arms. 

“Well, tomorrow, Jin-hyung has a plan for y/n. He wants to start the one-on-one dates and has already ensured his schedule was cleared. So maybe something with you and Yoongi-hyung?”

“That is a good idea. I am glad Seokjin is going to start the dates. He always has a level head when it comes to bringing mates into the fold. Unlike me and my muddled mind and Kookie wanting to jump right into things,” chuckles Namjoon. 

As he relaxes, his leather and vanilla scent returns in full. Taking Hoseok’s hand, the two start walking to the pack nest. “I think tomorrow, I will let the rest of the pack know and ask who wants to join me.”

“Sounds great, Alpha. Now let’s go to bed,” agrees Hoseok as he opens the door and leads the Pack Alpha into the nest.

Glancing over the nest, seeing each of his mates with soft features of sleep gracing their features makes love in Namjoon’s heart blossom. He always wanted to be the Pack Alpha, and then when it was apparent all his mates were also Alphas, it was an honor to be recognized as their Prime Alpha. 

He was lying down, with Hoseok curling along his back and acting like a koala by hooking his limbs around him. Sleeping Hoseok was just as clingy if not more so, than awake Hoseok.

Focusing on the partly open door, the smell of Sweetpea blows in, mixing with Hoseok’s lilac, Jungkook’s snickerdoodle, Taehyung’s ebony, Yoongi’s petrichor, Jimin’s oranges, Soekjin’s cherries, and all with the rich undertone of vanilla. 

The scents reminded the Prime Alpha that his mates were at least safe in the packhouse. Namjoon sighed, his body succumbing to sleep while his Alpha settled, a bit more at ease now with the plan that had been made.  

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[buckysgrace]

1. My Kink is Karma

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Your friend convinces you to join her grand plan. Steve is surprised about your advances.

Dividers by @strangergraphics :)

The air was hot and muggy. Humid. It was so humid that the back of your neck was wet, leaving the strands of hair against your skin wet. The sun was even more miserable, beating down against your skin as you roughly pumped your feet against the pedals. You were almost there. 

You had no car, well not anymore. Patty had begged and pleaded with you to take one spin in it behind the wheel, which you eventually agreed to against your better judgment. Your car was currently busted up in a junkyard and you were spending the summer paying for the damage your friend had done. Not that it was truly her fault, you were the one that let her behind the wheel.

You shoved your bike into the rack, almost not caring enough to lock it up. But you did despite your legs and arms crying in protest. At least you had a bike, if you lost this you’d end up having to walk. Your grandparents had been very clear of what they expected from you after your mistake. It was fair. 

Orange Julius wasn’t that bad of a job, a bit boring; but you really wished you were walking around and shopping like the rest of your peers. Instead you were stuck behind a counter, gowned in an ugly orange apron and an orange cap to keep your hair out of the food and drinks. It was better than the hairnet you supposed.

And it was certainly better than the terrible Scoops Ahoy! Uniforms that you had the unlucky pleasure of viewing every day. The store was directly across from yours, such a great view when you zoned out. Patty certainly thought so.

“Look at him in his dumb uniform,” She commented as she loudly sipped from her drink, her second free one that you had gifted her, “How many girls do you think have rejected him today?” She questioned you, looking more than gleeful as she stared towards the large glass windows into the ice cream store. 

“Don’t know,” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders, working on getting the drinks ready for the couple that was waiting, “Maybe a few.” You added, trying to appear as interested in the conversation as she was. In all honesty, you were growing tired of the mockery of Steve. It felt like old news. You didn’t understand why she kept obsessing over it. 

Steve was a hard topic for you to discuss, to even think about. You had known him far before he had dated Patty and left her heart in a pile of broken pieces. Back before he ever cared about popularity and gaining the title of King Steve.

Your memories of Steve came with dirty, scraped knees and popsicle stained lips. Of playing popcorn on your trampoline and him teaching you how to dive into the deep side of his pool. It was catching fireflies and having your gran paint your faces on your birthdays. You were fond of them all.

Then high school rolled around and things changed. The two of you drifted apart and soon your gran had an overstock of grape popsicles in her freezer. Those had always been his favorite. 

Things didn’t end on bad terms though, so you supposed you were grateful for that. You still occasionally exchanged pleasantries and small conversations. The last time you’d actually interacted with him had been at your graduation party. Patty had thrown a fit, even though you’d been in the dark about him coming over. But your grandparents loved him.

“You know what would be really funny?” Patty asked you as she hopped up on the side of the counter, leaving one of your coworkers to grumble about it. You smiled sheepishly, sure that they were all annoyed with her hanging around. “What?” You asked as you quickly smiled towards the customers as you handed off their drinks to them. You happily accepted the leftover coins as your tip, happy for anything that would help with your car situation. 

“If you went on a date with him.” Patty’s sentence surprised you as you snapped your head towards her, watching the way her pouty lips had turned up into a smirk. 

“Me?” You looked at her in disbelief, eyebrows crinkling together as your eyes widened, “Are you joking?” You asked her seriously as you hesitantly approached, sure that she had to be pulling your leg. Go out with Steve? The same ex she hadn’t been able to get over? You were positive you heard her wrong. 

“I’m being serious,” She grinned as she leaned over the counter, her green eyes sparkling with mischief, “Can you imagine how upset he’d be when you dump him?” She laughed at the thought, looking a little too gleeful for comfort. 

“Exactly why I’m not doing that.” You told her quickly as you shook your head. What Steve had done to her was shitty, but you were not a heartbreaker. You hadn’t ever broken up with anyone either, nor had you been in a serious enough relationship to pull off the act. 

“Why not?” She whined as she reached for your hands, “It would be the perfect revenge.” She added as she squeezed at your fingers. You looked at her oddly, wondering where she had gotten the impression that you were like that. This summer was supposed to be about working off your mistake, not about cozying up to Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t like Steve like that.” You dismissed her as you wrinkled your nose up. You’d never liked him like that. It irritated you to no end to hear about the girls in your classes talking about their romantic encounters with him. It had been unbearable during his brief stunt with Patty. You were secretly glad when it ended, not that you would ever tell her that. 

“You don’t have to,” She said as she shook her head, her blonde curls flying about, “You just have to make him like you.” She drew out more playfully as her grip around your fingers only tightened. 

“No,” You replied sternly as you pulled your hands away, “We used-,”

“To be friends, I know,” She finished for you, “But then he ditched you Freshman year for all of those cool people.” She waved her hand like it was no big deal, but you still felt the dull ache in your chest. But you were going to college, none of that mattered anymore. 

“Thanks.” You replied dryly as you shook your head, glancing back over towards the ice cream store. From this angle you could see Steve talking dramatically with his hands as Robin held up some sort of board in his direction. 

“You’re a nerd, but I love you,” She replied eagerly as she nodded her head, “See, it works out perfectly. You can get your own revenge too.” She laid it all out for you simply, as if it wasn’t a tricky task. It was all sort of bizarre to you. 

“I don’t want revenge,” You told her with a laugh, “That was years ago. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to college soon and forgetting about this dumb town.” That was if you could pay off your destroyed car. And get a new one. 

“You should do it for me anyways.” She whined as she bounced on the tips of her toes and smacked her palms against the counter, like she was a small child. You grumbled in response. 

“Why?” You asked her seriously as you rested your hand on your hip while you leaned on the counter. She rested her chin on her hands, pouting out her bottom lip as she fluttered her eyelashes up at you. 

“Because I’m your best friend. Maybe your only friend,” She added quickly, “And you owe me.” She added in a strict manner, narrowing her eyes slightly as if she was recalling a memory. You laughed. 

“What exactly do I owe you for?” You asked her seriously as you cocked your eyebrows, a little amused at the tantrum she was throwing. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to it. 

“You failed to tell me that Steve was such a heartbreaker.” She pointed at you, like it was all somehow your fault. You blinked slowly, knowing that she’d have to do better than that. You had told her many times that it wasn’t a good idea. 

“Everyone knew about that,” You responded with a laugh, “Nice try though.” You told her as you grabbed a spray bottle and began to wipe off the counter, purposely so she could move her elbows away. 

“Please,” She tried again as she pouted her lips out, “You know what he put me through, don’t you think he deserves a taste of his own medicine?” She asked you seriously, sounding more frustrated this time around. 

“I think that’s happening right now,” You responded as you crinkled your nose up, clearly able to hear him talking loudly to the group of girls that had just walked into the ice cream store, “Besides, he’d get suspicious. We’ve never been like that.” You couldn’t imagine being romantic with Steve or pretending to date him. It was outrageous. 

“We could cook up a cute story,” Patty declared, “You’ve been in love with him since you were little; he’s your childhood crush. Oh he’d fall for it.” She nodded her head, eyes still gleaming as she continued to plot out her awful plan. 

“He would not.” Lies. He definitely would. Being a hopeless romantic certainly fit Steve, even if he left behind shattered pieces of hearts in his path. 

“You go on a few dates,” She continued, “Just a few. Enough to make him like you. LIke really like you. You make him feel like he’s getting his groove back, that he can be happy and then you just dump him.” She smacked her hands against your wet counter, smiling wide as she squealed a second later. 

“Oh my God.” You groaned as you covered your face with your hands, feeling like she wasn’t listening to you. She was too much sometimes. 

“Just do this one little thing for me,” She whined dramatically again, “Please. Why won’t you do it for me? Your best friend?” She questioned you as you felt yourself huff all over again. It was ridiculous, that was why. 

“Just to be clear,” You started as you held your hands up in surrender and shut your eyes, “You want me to pretend to date your ex, be all sweet and romantic with him and then break up with him?” You asked her, being sure that you had the points correct. 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” You huffed as you drifted your eyes up towards the ceiling, wondering if anyone could hear your inner pleas, “You’re sick, demented. A terrible person.” You told her seriously, trying to recall why you had become friends in the first place. 

“I love you too,” She cooed as she leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “I’ll start looking for something cute for your first date.” She replied cheerily as she walked away, blowing you a kiss as she left. 

“Patty!” You shouted, eyes wide in disbelief, “I’m not doing it!”

You were true to your word, but that didn’t mean that Patty was happy with it. Her tantrum grew into dark, gloomy clouds and lightning flashes as she took to ignoring you in her usual manner. She did this every so often, making a point to show you that she wouldn’t speak to you again until you did whatever she wanted. You weren’t going to budge this time. 

“Where’s your friend?” The voice startled you, shaking you away from your thoughts as you munched on a carton of fries that were growing increasingly cold as your lunch break went on. You looked up curiously, almost dropping the fry from your mouth. 

“Steve?” You asked, sure that you were dreaming for just a moment. Of course it would be your luck to have him bump into you after your event with Patty. He did look dorky in his little uniform, but you’d noticed that he’d taken off his hat. 

“Yeah,” He said slowly, looking over his shoulder as if there was someone behind him, “That’s me. Why are you sitting alone?” He asked as he pointed his finger down to the free seat, like he was asking for an invitation to join you. You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Why do you care?” You asked him, not meaning for your tone to come out so snarky. But it was true. It wasn’t like he asked about you any other day. 

“I don’t,” He said at last, “Well sort of. You look like a bum.” He said at last, making your jaw drop as you stared up at him. You shifted, unable to help that your shirt was an ugly color and apron clutched so tightly to you. Perhaps you hadn’t cleaned up too well after the bike ride here either. Great. Just great. 

“This is my work uniform,” You huffed out, “I can’t control how it looks.” You replied defensively as you tried to straighten your clothes out, wondering why he was coming over to pick at you. Perhaps he thought you were an easy target like the kids in high school. 

“No,” He said as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “You look sad.” He declared with a nod of your head, leaving you just as confused as what he looked. 

“Bummed,” You corrected as you shook your head once you came to the right conclusion, “I think you mean that I look bummed.” You told him, blinking your eyes slowly as you laughed in response. 

“Yeah, that,” He replied as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Are you?” He asked you slowly, making you wonder once again why he even cared. You watched as he swung the chair around and straddled it, sitting across from you.

“I guess a bit,” You hummed as you ate another fry, eyes narrowing as he reached across and took a handful to shove into his mouth, “I think Patty dumped me.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, feeling like there was no point in denying it.

“She’s a -,” He stalled for a moment, “She’s pretty nasty.” He decided on at last, as if that made it any better. You tilted your head, unsure of why he would stick that label on her. He wasn’t any better and was certainly a cheater amongst other things. 

“Uh huh,” You drew out slowly, “Is there a reason you came over here or?” You asked curiously as you raised your eyebrows, trying to gain knowledge of what he wanted from you. It was fairly suspicious that he had decided to speak to you now after your former conversation with Patty. 

“Just wanted to check in on you.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, his tone softer as he drifted his brown eyes towards you. You felt your stomach clench in surprise before you quickly glanced away, unable to hold his gaze for very long. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” You replied tiredly as you pulled a tight smile onto your lips, “Does this look like a smile of a bum?” You asked him, unable to help yourself as a giggle burst free from your lips. It was silly, pleasant. Like it used to be. 

“Ha,” He replied dryly but smiled all the same, “I see why you got dumped.” He told you as he jerked his chin towards you, making a frown form on your lips. You supposed you shouldn’t feel so sensitive towards the manner, but you were fairly hurt over everything. Patty had been your only real friend for the longest time. It was shitty.

You sighed as you scooted your chair back, earning a confused look from Steve before you gathered up all of your trash. You dramatically tossed it into the bin before you turned on your heel, not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you all upset. 

“I was kidding,” Steve shouted after you, stumbling over his chair as you headed back towards your store, “You know, just a joke!” You ignored him, not bothering to face his way before you flipped him off. 

“What’s this?” You asked as you held your back over your shoulder, resting a hand on your hip as you looked at the image in front of you. The mall was long closed and you had taken your time to get the store locked up and ready for tomorrow. 

Steve had a pitiful grin as he stood in front of you, a bowl filled with ice cream resting in his palms. You tilted your head, noticing the bananas and extra cherries. His hat was resting awkwardly on the side of his head, his hair sticking in different directions as if he’d messed with it for too long.

“I feel like a dick,” He said at last, “I really was just trying to check on you. Here. You can have this.” He pushed it out towards you, nearly dropping it on you before you caught it upright. He moved his hands towards you to balance it, his slender fingers brushing against your now warm skin. 

“Thanks,” You replied with a laugh, “I don’t think I can eat this on my bike though.” You told him seriously as you looked down at the messy toppings, almost as if a child had set it up. He had never been the artistic type. 

“We could share it here.” He suggested with a shrug of his lips, frowning his lips out softly like he wasn’t quite sure what you’d suggest. You placed the bowl down on the table before you rested your hand on your hip, thinking over his suggestion. 

“Are you asking me out?” You questioned with a cocked eyebrow. Bold. It was far too bold for you. He must’ve thought the same as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his head almost toppled off of his head. 

“I-,” His lips stopped moving for a moment, his cheeks turning a bright red as his brown eyes widened in shock, “No. I mean. Yes. I uh, if you want it to be? No. I’m asking you out. Yes.” He furrowed his eyebrows tightly together, looking as confused as you felt for a moment. You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. It was sort of cute. Just sort of. 

“Real smooth, Harrington,” You responded as you pulled a chair out, “You’ve always had a way with words.” You teased him as you sat down, mirroring the way he’d found you earlier. He snorted as he pressed a hand through his messy hair. You watched, wondering if it had grown lighter from the summer sun. 

“I do,” He replied more confidently as he took the spot across from you, “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me.” He said as he pointed the spoon towards you, then back to himself. You rolled your eyes as you stole the spoon from his fingers.

“Is that a problem?” You questioned as you took a large scoop from the ice cream, securing a piece of banana before you munched down on it. He watched you for a moment before he stole the spoon from you to take a bite of his own. At least neither of you cared about germs anymore.

“No,” He said as a cheesy smile pulled onto his lips, “I always knew you were into me.” His revelation shocked you, making your jaw drop in surprise.

“I was not,” You squeaked out, completely forgetting what Patty wanted you to say, “I bet you were the one that was into me.” You teased him back as you took another bite, then another just to spite him. 

He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched you, eyes warm and filled with amusement. He softened though, his features relaxing into something you deemed as being vulnerable before he adjusted in his seat.

“A bit,” He admitted, leaving you stunned as you pressed your lips together. You could feel your pulse racing, the butterflies forming in your stomach from his words. That was certainly a surprise. You never picked up any of those feelings from him, “I always thought you were pretty.” 

You felt a warm feeling grow inside of your chest, your heart thumping as you tried to comprehend his compliment. You parted your lips, your positions quickly changing as you suddenly couldn’t find the words to say.

“Oh,” You watched as he licked the bottom of the spoon clean, your knees twitching together, “I didn’t know.” You said at last, unsure of what else you could say. You felt guilty suddenly, even though you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Not yet. He could totally be messing with you at this point. 

“You still live in the same place,” He stated, but then quickly coughed as he spoke again, “Right?” He flushed once again, a soft smile pressing onto his lips. He reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“Born and raised,” You told him in agreement, “I don’t suppose you’d invite me to go swimming?” You questioned, deciding that you might as well go ahead and take the lead. He laughed.

“We could do that,” He nodded his head in agreement, “Tomorrow. It’s a date.” 

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

'To get into character.'

We have seen so many bl character's hearts breaking at this word. Friend. Who knew that could be something more heartbreaking than that. I screamed. And just as @lurkingshan said here I could hear Hayama's heart breaking. My heart sank. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Shirasaki's mouth. It was so cruel. And Hayama was paralyzed. Even as Shirasaki was kissing him he didn't move an inch. His eyes wide open. As I watching I kept thinking, is he going to give in? and that's probably what was going through his mind as well. Does he allow himself one last memory? or should he just stop there and move on? In the end I was happy he stopped himself when he did. He let himself get swept way in the moment but caught himself. Up until this moment, 'faking it' for the sake of the show, was a source of happiness. A way to create beautiful memories. But he couldn't cross that line. Because for him that meant this would no longer be a beautiful memory. And as soon as he got up he didn't dare to look back. He didn't glance at Shirasaki again. Because if he did, he might go weak again and ruin it. Because like he said "Right now, I can still end it with a beautiful memory."

Daytime Dream

The show within the show has been working almost like its title. From Hayama's perspective since it began it was a way to staying close to Shirasaki. It has been allowing him to spend time with him creating beautiful memories. They've been purposefully mirroring the show for the sake of Shirasaki's acting. And now the show is over and they're lost. Because as much as it's been about the show, when the cameras weren't rolling they shared real moments. They entered each others lives and inhabited each others spaces. And the spaces they shared are now haunted by those moments.

'For the last time'

Since the last episode, we've been talking about running. @lurkingshan @emotionallychargedtowel and myself have been trying to predict who will be the one doing the running. (Here and here)

And I've been split between who I think will do the running and who I think should do the running. And this episode left me with another option. No one will do the running.

There are two lines specially that I keep coming back to and they are from the show within the show.

'Ryouji and Takumi have slept together once' - The episode ends with Hayama stopping Shirasaki from leaving. And the only thing we get from the preview is Shirasaki still in the living room except that now the sun seems to be rising. And although I loathe trusting previews, I think this means that they do sleep together. Once at least.

'Ryouji decides to leave for Takumi's sake.' - Although Hayama is the one who plays Ryouji I think Shirasaki will do exactly that. He will leave before Hayama wakes up because he think that's what he needs to do for his sake.

Look, I don't need all bl's to have happy endings. In fact some of them might be better without them. But I must admit, I will be wrecked if I don't get one here. I'm not saying it will be bad, I'm not saying it won't be satisfying from a narrative point. I have no idea honestly. But more than anything, I want to see Hayama with a full smile before this ends. For my sanity.

But if there is a happy ending and if what I said before actually happens, and they sleep together and Shiraki leaves without saying goodbye. Then, Shirasaki needs to be the one who runs. Because Hayama has had his heart broken twice now, and even after that he's the one who reaches first by stopping Shirasaki from leaving. Because let's not forget. Shirasaki is not completely in the dark about Hayama's feelings. He did hear Hayama tell Yamase he didn't know if he liked him. So I need Shirasaki to reach back this time. Not for the show, but for Hayama and himself.

[leonsliga]

A black and yellow love letter:

Dear BVB,

Dear BVB fans,

So, the time has come. Over 13 years in black and yellow are coming to an end for me. Dortmund has been my home for over 13 years. It's Thursday, June 13th, and I'm sitting on the couch in the evening, trying to put these thoughts into words. It's incredibly difficult for me.

It’s really difficult for me. I’m particularly sad about the way it’s ending, because this impersonal farewell does not do our time together justice. But unfortunately, that's the way it is in this business sometimes, and the day will come when we will make up for it together in front of the yellow wall.

I chose this farewell to some extent because I deliberately did not want to make an early decision about my future. That's why the last few months were really challenging for me emotionally, because it was always clear that they could be my last in black and yellow.

Many of you surely noticed how much I enjoyed everything about the last home games and the Champions League final. Sitting alone by the post after the game in the most beautiful temple in the world, soaking in the atmosphere and standing in front of the south stand while everyone sang my name. Pure goosebumps, even as I look back on it now. That was and is a great honor, and I will never forget it.

Please do me a favor and don't believe everything you’ve read in the past few days. There have been a lot of untruths and half-truths. Just know this: throughout all these years, BVB has always meant everything to me and I always wanted the best for the club, on and off the pitch. The influence of a 35-year-old player who doesn't know how his career will continue after the summer has certainly not been as great in recent months as it was sometimes made out to be in the media.

We’ve experienced so much together in these years, from the gray league times at the beginning, with my first personal DFB-Pokal final in 2008, to the upswing under Jürgen Klopp and the years that were almost like a frenzy—years with so many highlights that I can't even list them all. The won and lost finals. The last place standing at the beginning of 2015, which couldn't really be, and the run back to 7th place by the end of the season. Two Champions League finals and recently, unfortunately, two big missed title dreams.

What pleased me most, though, was how I was welcomed back in 2019 after my transfer back to BVB, and I hope you noticed: I tried everything and tore myself apart for the black and yellow jersey and for success.

There is nothing like the South Stand. A few weeks ago, I was called the ‘bricklayer of the Yellow Wall'. I'll hang that above my BVB trophy cabinet! I’m incredibly proud of it.

I will miss everything about this great club. See you around.

HEJA BVB!

Your Mats

~ Mats Hummels via instagram

[sailorshadzter]

Can you write a fic where Cat survived the Red Wedding and has to accept that Sansa has to marry Jon to keep the Stark line and the North united? She knows Jon is now the heir but the prospect of marriage still haunts her because of what happened to Robb. And now, Cat wouldn't want to wish what happened to Robb to Jon Snow regardless of his heritage.

HIIII ANON

once again, this has been sitting in my inbox for a long time!!!

hopefully you see this!!!

send me prompts

When the gates open, a wagon rolls in, pulled by a white mare that has seen better days. 

She happens to be standing in the courtyard, talking with a few of the lords when the call comes, so her attention shifts away, blue eyes watching as the wagon comes all the way through. They aren’t expecting anyone, not that it matters, so she excuses herself, wandering away from the center yard and closer to the horse drawn wagon that has now come to a stop.

As the single passenger rises from the bench, her heart skips a beat, her stomach turning over like the wild waves of the sea. Somehow, her heart is telling her all she needs to know about this hooded stranger. 

Coming closer now, she waves away the guards barking questions- who are you, why have you come, and the like, because she doesn’t need to hear the answer the woman will give. As she comes around to the back, the figure is stepping down off the back, her feet crunching in the freshly fallen snow. For a moment, it is as if time is suspended, as if there is not a single other person in the world but the two of them- her lips curve around the syllables of the word she hasn’t used in years… “Mother…”

Catelyn Stark smiles, drawing back the hood of her cloak to reveal a somewhat scarred face, one older than she recalls, but it was her mother all the same. “Sansa,” she breathes, tears overflowing as she forces a smile. “My daughter…” A girl grown into a woman, a sight she thought she might never get to see… But here she was, standing just in front of her. It takes but a moment more for the young woman to fling herself at her, to fall into her arms as if she were that child she’d lost so many years before. “I’m here, Sansa, I’m here,” she whispers, running her hand through the red hair that has grown so long it falls to her waist, twisted back in braids like her own. Catelyn holds her tightly, wishing away her tears and murmuring the softest of words, until only the sound of footsteps draws her away.

When she looks up, over her daughter’s head, it is to look into the eyes of the man she knows has saved Winterfell, has saved Sansa. The boy she once detested, the boy she once neglected, now stands there now, grown into a man, staring at her with wide, gray eyes. Eyes that remind her of Ned, of Arya, eyes that bring pain to her already aching heart. But, she returns to her daughter, the last piece of her, and knows that this was where life was meant to bring her. 

[ x x x ]

“King in the North?”

Catelyn questions without hesitation, looking from one face to the other, once again feeling that ache in her heart. Once, Robb had been called such a thing. The truth was, she imagined to hear Queen in the North upon her arrival, but it was true, Robb had indeed named Jon as his heir, and it seemed as if the North agreed. Truth was, after hearing about all that had happened since the days of Robb, she supposes Jon deserves the title. 

Besides… 

“Have you met with Samwell Tarly?” She asks next, thinking of the man she met some weeks ago, traveling from King’s Landing to Winterfell, saying how once he was comrades with Jon Snow, no, friends even. “Is he not here?” 

Jon shakes his head, surprised to hear his old friend’s name spoken by his step mother. “I have not heard from Sam since before…” He trails off , shaking his head. Since before his death, he means. “Have you met with him, Lady Stark?” Lady Stark… She’s not been referred to by that name in so long now, it feels somewhat foreign. In truth, she’s heard Sansa called by that title all day, her inheritance certain. And now that she looks, there is a closeness between the two of them that she never saw before- perhaps it was one she prevented, in truth. 

“I have,” she admits, wondering if it was her place to tell him what Samwell Tarly had told her. She has but a split second to decide, for they are both staring back at her, Sansa with her wide-eyed gaze, Jon with his somber one. Perhaps this was the will of the gods, whichever ones were still listening…

So she speaks and she doesn’t stop until the story is fully told. 

[ x x x ]

It is the fourth morning of Catelyn’s return and she finds herself in Sansa’s rooms, brushing out her long red hair as she once did so long ago. 

Much has changed in the days since her arrival, the truth of Jon’s birth being an outright shock for all of Winterfell. But, the lords have taken it in stride and it would not be long before they would openly claim him as the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

In due time, of course. 

Catelyn has been thinking this moment over, again and again, trying to decide the best of the situation. The North deserved to be free, independent, just as Robb had intended…. But they still needed to back Jon, in order to win the war that was to come. Targaryen’s were not well loved here in the North, but lucky for Jon, he’d amassed love and respect from the Northerners that could not be stolen away simply because of his father’s blood. He was a Stark, many lords would say, shaking their heads. He was as much of a Targaryen as any one of them. 

“Mother?”

Sansa’s voice draws her out of her own thoughts and she smiles at her over her shoulder, their eyes meeting in the reflection of the looking glass. “I got lost in my own thoughts,” she apologizes as she places the last pin into place. For a single moment, she cannot help but to imagine her as she once was in this place; a hostage, a victim. Sansa hasn’t come out with all of the details of her two unlucky marriages, though she swears Tyrion never touched her, Catelyn knows Ramsay Bolton did the most unspeakable things to her. And these thoughts lead back to Robb, who married out of young, stupid love, that unwavering feeling many don’t get to feel in a world like theirs. Robb had died for love, Sansa nearly died from the violence of a loveless marriage. In the end, her children had found suffering in marriage, whether it be true love or political gain… There was no happy ending, not for Robb and not for Sansa.

But then there comes a knock on her door and when it opens, Jon is there, the sight of him bringing a smile to her face she’s never seen before. She watches as Sansa lights up from within, as she rises up from the chair she occupies to sweep across the room to stand before him. He spares her but one single nod before his eyes are all for Sansa, eyes that she swears she’s seen before… Eyes that she swore Ned once looked upon her with. 

Sansa offers a quick curtsy- sloppy, though she had it perfected at three- and with her arm slipped through his, she allows him to steer her from the room.

 Left alone in silence, Catelyn sinks back in the chair, laughter bubbling on her lips. 

[ x x x ]

Several weeks later, their betrothal is announced. 

Catelyn watches as the loyal Northern lords raise their glasses to the marriage, chanting their pleasure before they drink to it. At the head table, Sansa is blushing, but not in the innocent sort of way, while Jon pours her a second goblet of wine. They would be the finest of couples and the most powerful of monarchs- already Dorne had written of their support and she supposes the rest of the world would not be far behind. They had far more power than Robb ever had, which she supposes should bring her comfort, should hold her heart steady. 

The boy she once wished would die, she now wishes a lifetime of happiness, of health, of love. 

The boy she once wished never existed, she raises her own glass to toast, hoping for happiness, wishing for a lifetime of love.

[intuitive-revelations]

Legend of Ruby Sunday live notes

Obviously spoilers below, recorded as I watched. Definitely gonna watch again though. I think I might do a seperate write up about 'what to take away' because oh my god does this episode throw a lot at you!

"Uncle"!!

We're definitiely getting a UNIT spin-off aren't we? I recognised the soldier guy straight away (tbh, when I first saw the 60th trailers he looked so odd in the shots used I thought he was cgi/deepfaked). If we do get it, I do hope they go for the military vs science conflict like I imagine - he'd be a good 'antagonist' for Kate in that regard.

Ooh... just pointing out the anagram in-universe....huh.

"TARDIS technology." Oh she's doomed this episode, I can feel it coming.

Oh! And we're doing the Susan mention?! Ok?!

AND THAT'S THE END OF THE PRE-TITLES WHAT? WHY?

Must be a redirect, though, surely? 'Susan' is not much to go off. It's silly they're jumping to this straight away in-universe, even with the TARDIS anagram.

"Well, except the obvious." "We'll get him." Is that a Musk slam?

Mel!

"Call me Sue" that's a bit of evidence against. Though if it is somehow Susan, her actually being 'really nice' would be cute.

Ruby Rose besties! Ruby Rose besties!

Hm. If this is somehow Susan, we are so going to dissect that thing about Sue Triad's parents.

Donna mention. :)

Oh my god, I've just realised. The TARDIS is a central part of this mystery, and that's exactly what Mrs Flood claimed to recognise...

Uhh.... what's up with Flood?

"HE WAITS NO MORE."

We're really settling on the Susan thing, huh.

"He never mentioned a granddaughter." Five Doctors fans keep losing.

"If you've got a granddaughter, that means you've got kids." "Well, not quite. Not yet." OMG WE'RE DOING THIS?

(Also...he definitely HAS had kids before - and not just Jenny and Miranda. But wild that we're implying Susan isn't the child of one of them.)

"I bring disaster. What if I go back and ruin her?" Hmm... so far kinda compatible with To the Death?

"Especially the Prime Minister." lol.

"N-dimenionsal time", thanks, I'll absorb that into my interpretation of time, time tracks etc. in the whoniverse.

Mel lost her family. Is that a reference? Doesn't immediately bring something to mind.

I like the way the lights are fading up and down, very TARDIS-y.

Ooh, the VHS-y environment.

"The greatest power of all: memory. Time is remembered. Memory is time." MEMORY TARDIS MEMORY TARDIS.

"What is the memory of a time machine?" No way.

Ok, getting ready for a twist. RTD said where people were is important.

...or not?

The one who waits?!

Well there goes the colonel. No surprise.

Hmm... the description "it's everything" sounds a lot like the Void ship from Doomsday.

"It's the Beast." Not that 'Beast' surely?

"It's so old. It's been waiting. It's been waiting for so long." So those "one"s are the same, confirmed?

"It's the TARDIS" AHHHH.

It's groaning again! "It's made that noise before."

"What if it exists around the TARDIS now and we just can't see it?"

I don't think this is our Susan, but if she somehow is I'm really enjoying her dorkiness.

...that's two "no more" drops so far. Hmm...

"AND I THINK WE CAN SUCCEED" Hello?!

It's woven into the TARDIS? Some sort of parasite maybe? Didn't RTD say something about the splitting in The Giggle being important?

"He has hidden in the Howling Void. He has hidden within the tempest." WAIT I WAS RIGHT?! It's Void related. The Eternals called it the Howling didn't they?!

"All this time, he whispered and delighted and seduced, and the vessel did obey. For none should be more mighty and none should be more wise than the King himself." UHHHHH.

HARRIET F*CKING ARBINGER (and she said she was born for this... of course)

WAIT THAT'S SAXON'S THEME WTF

"I dream of worlds with orange skies." HUH? I guess that could be from Boom, but you know what I'm thinking

"There is the Toymaker: the God of Games. There is Trickster: the God of traps." I f*cking knew it. The 'Pantheon' is the Pantheon of Discord!

"There is Maestro: the God of Music. There is Reprobate: of Spite. There is the Mara, the God of Beasts, and the three-fold deity of malice and mischeif and misery." Ok Mara mention... BUT also, "three-fold" that's deliberate right?! Like the Six-Fold God?

"The mother and father and other of them all."

SUTEKH!

"Did you think I was family, Doctor?" Phew...

And it's Gabriel Woolf voicing him! That's good.

Wait... he also voiced the Beast... huh. What does that mean with the reference this episode?

[instaspacenoodles]

✧₊⊹𝐏𝐫𝐞-𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧

Have I recover from Jiyan brain rot? Nope. So here’s more of my fluffy headcanons in honor of raising him to lvl 70.

Jiyan has been career-oriented since childhood, all due his family’s background as medical professionals. He was the type to focus on studying and mastering his medical skills rather than dabble in schoolyard crushes. His family had high expectations for him after all and he didn’t want to disappoint them. If it meant turning down his peers’ invitation to gather herbs or burying his noses in thick books then he’ll do it.

Jiyan can be kinda oblivious to people having a crush on him because of his lack of experience. Romance was so far off his radar that he wouldn’t know if it hit him in the head. The thought doesn’t even cross his mind that someone actually likes likes him. Subtle flirting would definitely go over this man's head no matter how hard you tried to drop hints. Like you leaving him chocolate? It was just a friendly gesture. You complimenting him on his looks? Perfectly normal for people to express their opinions on appearances.

Jiyan would think that your weird behavior around him was just out of shyness, awkwardness or even fear. You’re so outgoing with everyone else, but you’re so quiet with him. He has no idea why you have such a drastic shift in personality. Was it because of his title and status of general? Is it because he’s serious the majority of the time? He understands that he looks a bit intimidating, but tries to be approachable to not make you uncomfortable. Man is just utterly clueless that his attractiveness is the reason you’re going crazy.

Jiyan is the embodiment of “you fell first, he fell harder.” It might take a little time and external forces, but once it clicks that you have a crush on him — let’s just say he’s sent into a whole dilemma. Man is rethinking every interaction you had with him. All the chocolate, the compliments, how flustered you get when he approaches you - how didn’t he see this before? His eyes have been open and now he can’t help but study every gesture you make. The way your smile makes his stomach swirl, the way your laugh was such a pleasant sound to listen to, and the way being close to you made him feel nervous. Ah, maybe he might like you too.

Jiyan was held back by two things though. His lack of experience in the romance department and his fear of getting too close to people. He already lost so many people that were close to him, so many people that he failed to protect when it mattered most. The doubts festered in his mind endlessly and haunted him everyday. What if you got hurt? What if he failed to be there to protect you? What would he do if he couldn’t save you? He can’t shake those thoughts, yet he knew that he would regret missing this chance more than anything else. He would just have to try his hardest to make sure that nothing harms a hair on your pretty little head.

Jiyan would definitely go into research mode to try to understand what’s the right way to romance you. He would want to sweep you off your feet in a sweet gesture that expresses his feelings. He would even ask his mother for advice on courting you because she knows best. Jiyan would definitely try the secret admirer route - it would be the perfect way to return the favor of all the gifts you gave him while also making his feelings clear. He’s thoughtful in his gifts and if he hears you want something specific, you’re damn sure it will appear the next day. Meanwhile, he would even try to subtly flirt back when you two were together even if the attempts are a bit clumsy or make him feel a little flustered.

Jiyan would do a cute reveal, inviting you to meet your “admirer” at the cliff overlooking the base. The stars were twinkling in the sky and the calm quiet of the night would make the perfect atmosphere. He would be awkward, but sincere when confessing his feelings for you. He awaited your response in baited breath and respond you did. Jiyan was honestly expecting a flustered yes or no from you — not the way your face brightened in happiness and your arms were suddenly around his neck. The way you readily agreed to his confession with that beautiful smile of yours, core memory right there! He blinks a couple times in surprise before smiling down at you with a light flush to his cheeks.

Bonus!! Later, you would definitely 100% tease him about his obliviousness for the past few months. The pain and agony of your flirting attempts meeting a cold, stone wall. Jiyan, in turn, would recount all the times you could barely function around him and relish in the way you sputter over your words.

[malachitefields]

(original ask by @highestside got lost so ive artfully recreated it, not that you would be able to tell by my phenomenal editing skills)

this is very much my “1 like and ill write an essay” topic so thank you for the excuse to yap!

this is all in the context of this batsplat post, which i cant really build on if im honest so will be referencing/drawing parallels as i go through rather than stealing from thanku pls go read that first

im writing with the knowledge that most ppl who follow me are motogp so wont necessarily know figure skating, so ill do a little introduction to yuzuru (probably yuzu from here on out) so u guys can all join in because i think youll love him. hes truly marc-levels bonkers insane mastermind babygirl.

if you know it already or just only care about the mind games/mental aspect of it feel free to skip past!!

so heres our guy! yuzuru hanyu (born december 1994, saggitarius, name means “a bowstring pulled tight”)

now retired from competitive figure skating in 2022 because he would “no longer seek those kinds of evaluations” (i.e he was sick of being underscored and everyone else overscored and it wasnt fun anymore so he was going to skate at a competitive level elsewhere like a maniac), yuzu is a 2-time olympic, 2-time world, 4-time consecutive grand prix final, 1-time four continents, and 6-time national champion. he is the only man to achieve what is known as a “super slam”, a grand slam in both the juniors and the senior divisions (athough he wouldve achieved it a lot faster if he hadnt been cursed to only ever achieve 2nd at 4cc, but thats another story). hes the second youngest man to win the singles olympic title (after dick button) and the first man to successfully defend his olympic title in 66 years (also after dick button, ironically).

he broke 19 world records, the most of any skater in singles since the introduction of the GOE scoring system in 2003 (dont ask what we used before that you dont want to know). he was the first to break the 100 point barrier for the short program, 200 points for the free program, and 300 overall, and he did at one point break all three of those records (which were all his) in one weekend, 2 weeks after hed set them. if you want to see what the crowd reaction to that one was like, take a look. the impact of those two weeks literally cannot be overstated, yuzu blew not just the field, but the entire sport so far out of the water that they replaced the scoring system because there was no way anyone could get close (its also probably the catalyst for the severe deterioration in scoring, but thats a whole different discussion)

now ive given a smidge of a background on yuzu (which is tldr he is largely considered the greatest mens singles skater of all time), ill give a bit of comparison between the two sports.

like motogp, fs is hugely a mind game for all of the athletes. while it doesnt exactly involve death, there is certainly a lot of the good ole body horror aspect (i have seen skaters dislocate their shoulders and then just pop them back in to complete their program), and there is comparatively less time to make sure you get things right while youre in competition. that seems ideal on paper, but unfortunately singles figure skating is not exactly known for its lack of errors! (yuzu notoriously won his first olympic title having fallen over twice in the fs) its pretty frequent to see a skater panic over a mistake early in the programme and then just snowball into a big mess thats cost them points.

unlike in motogp, there is nothing to assist in going faster or doing more other than your own body. and when all of your competition time is crammed into 2-4 minute slots, it becomes necessary to keep doing more in that short space of time in order to beat out your opponent. as a result we have ended up at what is referred to as the quad revolution, where the ever ramping up need for more technical complexity demanded more difficult jumps. in this case, jumps with 4 complete revolutions in air, rather than the 3 revolution jumps that were common for a long period of time. adding more revolutions to a jump requires a bigger jump, faster turning, and a larger g force on landing. currently this is thought to be about 13-14g, which doesnt sound like a lot in motorsport terms where going around a corner in an f1 car puts 6g on your neck, but a) the human body is much better as surviving high g forces that are horizontal as opposed to vertical/along the spine and b) they are landing on one foot (always the same foot!) in a inflexible ankle boot, on a piece of metal, on a sheet of ice, on a concrete floor. theres not exactly a lot to cushion the impact other than the grace of your own ankle and knee, and if you fuck that up youre going splat on the ice full body. so the repeated strain is there! and to add onto that, the error truly costs you as there is no cumulative points system across competitions. meaning the maximum 5 (6 if youre in an olympic year) major international competitions really count every time. you could win every major competition of the year up until worlds, but if you croak just enough there that someone outscores you, sorry but youre not world champion this year! so while theres not usually any death in figure skating, its high risk-high reward nonetheless.

never being on the ice competing at the same time as someone else also brings a weird dynamic to the table here. where you are in the running on the day can play a lot on the mental state of the skaters, so if theyre in a close competition with a rival and the rival has just skated a personal best, the pressure is on (more on this in a bit lol). this means theres not really any pressure you can put on a rival mentally during a programme the same way you can with a race. that pressure has to already be there before they step on the ice, or they have to create it themselves.

yuzu specifically largely reserves (or seems to at least from an outside perspective) his mind games for the press rather than his competitors. quite often his competitors do end up as collateral damage though, as they dont exactly know much that the press doesnt already. i think this is a important thing to keep in mind when thinking about quote unquote “mindgames”, as its easy to look at everything an athelete does in a high stress environment as being intentional. marc for example, and his classic towing so he can observe competitors. he benefits in that it may unsettle or stress out the competition, but it may just be for observation purposes in most cases if thats all he really wants to know/gain from it. batsplat mentioned poor rookie fabio getting the observation treatment, which sure could be intimidation tactics! it could also just be curiosity and strategy planning to account for a good rookie on a decent bike, though. once people have voiced an opinion on your actions that others have noticed it can catch on as the assumed intent, even if it wasnt the case at all. but if youre marc marquez and everyone assumes that you play mind games while towing in practice and is unsettled by it, you probably wont bother saying anything about it because it ended up benefitting you in the end.

figure skating and motogp (moto racing in general) are extremely different examples of spectator sports:

a sport that many people find entertaining to watch.

you’ve heard it all before so i almost dont have to say it, but valentino rossi is show, marc marquez is show. they’re such engaging and interesting figures to the spectators not just because theyre technically phenomenal, but also because they are aware of how to engage the spectator. yuzu is absolutely no different, just winning is no fun if its not fun to watch. if we think back to how common errors are in fs, you can imagine the drama of a situation like this (which is how he has described his ideal win):

“I'd like to be in the position where, no matter what happens - even if they skate their free skate clean - if I skate clean, I will win." from here

what yuzu has been after his whole career is undeniable dominance. and i compare it to this quote from marc which rings exactly the same:

“I’m a winner and my mentality will never change. These guys are not better than me” from there can be only one s2 ep3

on face value yuzus quote seems very different than marcs, much more passive in the way it conveys the same intent: that they are better than the rest. but heres where the mind games really come in. theres been a long running argument in figure skating as a result of the quad revolution between whether focusing on athleticism and technical skills was the future of the sport, over “artistry”. basically all of the mens singles skaters at the elite level now all focus on the former as its what gives them more points, with yuzuru being basically the last frontier of elite level “artistry” skaters. there was a lot of back and forth in the media about it, with most of the mens skaters arguing that athleticism was more important, and that the new generation was bringing that aspect to the sport (implying that yuzuru wasnt).

anyway, king of the very subtle but destructive media dig that he is, yuzu dropped this notorious quote:

“That so-called balance between [technical] difficulty and artistry, to me that doesn't actually exist. Artistry is founded upon absolute technical prowess, that's what I think.” from here

damning as that quote is on its own, the context was key in its own right. this was delivered at the official olympic press conference immediately after yuzuru had won his second olympic title, specifically (it seems) as a response to discussions about nathan chen in the media.

nathan had been a favourite to win the 2018 olympics in part due to his differing focus on jumps over,,,,,, well basically everything else in his programs, but also because yuzu was injured shortly before the olympics and hadnt been seen in 4 months. in the end he only came 5th, after landing himself in 17th after the short program after panicking.

remember what i said about a rival skating a personal best just before you had to skate? lets quickly have a look at what other skaters say its like to skate immediately after yuzu on a regular competition, or even look at him:

i swear on my life i have a distinct memory of another skater saying that not only does no one look at yuzu before skating, but that COACHES TELL THEM NOT TO FOR THEIR OWN GOOD. i couldnt find that source, so maybe i made that one up.

this isnt exlusive to skaters that dont know him either, roman sadovsky and nam nguyen were both training mates at toronto cricket club for years with him (and very friendly) and still said this:

its noticable to fans and press as well, this contrasting idea of someone who is completely normal backstage, but particularly a menace on the ice

“I have been watching Hanyu for a long time and have had the chance to chat with him on many occasions. There is a contrasting sweetness and innocence backstage in conversation to the “killer” who comes out to skate. I have often said, you can see it in Hanyu’s eyes when he takes his opening postion. It’s as if it’s a choice he makes in declaring “this one’s mine””

this distinct aura, if you want to call it that, is something we also see with marc, where he also unnerves opponents, in part because of this monstrous technical ability meaning you know youre at risk, but also because its just straight up scary. batsplats post did a really good job of dissecting how we know marc is probably intending that, but yuzus a little harder to pin down. hes much more subtle than marc in a lot of ways with potential affects on competitors, and theres less need to target specific people than with motogp because youll never come “head to head” with someone in figure skating and therefore need to know their specific strengths and weaknesses (although he definitely does, hes said that before, it just doesnt impact his skating unless they have something he wants to emulate, which became less and less common over time.).

but its still definitely intentional in my eyes, as david wilson, who choreographed for both him and yuna kim (largely considered the goat of the womens singles division) also speculates:

“When I worked with Yuzu, he told me that Yuna was his idol. He idolised her. And I don’t think it was just for her skating, I think it was the way she did it, the way she commanded those four years. You know? He wanted to be that kind of a force.” from here

and here we are back around to the concept of undeniable dominance!

its at this point that i want to discuss probably the most similar aspects of marc and yuzus mind games: being lying liars who lie when it comes to injury when it benefits them

its body horror time!

yuzu has a fantastic track record of not disclosing injuries anywhere outside of his immediate circle and competing anyway in ways that shouldnt really have been possible.

for one, this dudes asthmatic, like he literally used to turn blue in the face sometimes at the end of a program when he was a teenager. one time he just laid face down on the ice at the end. i have no idea why he picked this profession, hes literally said it hurts him. just another point to add to the “bonkers crazy insane” chart i have of him and marc in my mind.

he got silver during the 2016 world championships on a hidden lisfranc injury in his left foot, which is a type of mid-foot injury common in *checks notes* car accidents and contact sports. they werent sure at the time if he was ever going to be able to skate again because even walking was bad, but he still skated at the gala afterwards, which led to probably the most beautiful but also sopping wet sad performance ive ever seen, followed by him dropping the news he was really fucking injured and might never be able to skate again and then going completely radio silent for months over the summer break (end of season). id say that was a one off but he skated at the olympic 2022 gala knowing he was about to retire from competition and hadnt told anyone yet so clearly it wasnt (nico rosberg eat your heart out!) he just likes drama.

but hiding injuries isnt uncommon, and is definitely not that much of a media mind game if you really think about it! what is though, and is very reminiscent of marc and that goddamn arm, is the injury on the run up to the 2018 pyeongchang olympics (remember me mentioning that?)

if we rewind a bit to autumn 2017, yuzu has just won his second world title after delivering what is largely considered to be the greatest figure skate of all time (and a historical record). yuzuru is running a fever during practice at nhk trophy right at the start of the season, and ends up severely injuring his right ankle (his landing foot) doing the highest scoring jump anyone had actually landed at the time. the injury happened live so he couldnt really pretend he wasnt injured, and he goes into complete media blackout for the next 3 months, missing the entire season before announcing he’s competing at the olympics to defend his title. i would like to emphasise here: nobody had fucking seen him in 3 months, especially not on the ice. in the meantime, nathan chen had had a pretty good time scooping up wins and had made himself the projected favourite for the olympic title due to no one knowing fuck all about yuzurus condition.

the first time yuzu was seen on ice was the first of several practice sessions for the mens singles (nathan had already competed in the team competition but yuzu hadnt skated). these are a media frenzy due to yuzu at the best of times, not to mention him being at this point only about 4 months out from a ligament injury on the foot he was meant to be landing 13-14g on repeatedly.

“The real highlight of the skating day on Monday came not during the team event upstairs in the Gangneung Ice Arena, but downstairs in the evening at the practice rink long after the crowds had gone home. That's when defending Olympic and world champion Yuzuru Hanyu made his first appearance on Olympic ice.

Hanyu went through a light workout for 15 minutes that primarily involved strokes and just a couple of jumps, before departing. He attempted no quads during his time on the ice. He did not appear to be in any distress or favoring any part of his body.” from here

the media, who are absolutely ravenous for any information about his condition at this point, get basically nothing out of this practice session that might give away his chances at defending the title. the other skaters definitely didnt either, but that was fine! there was another practice session in a couple of days that might give the game up as to whether he is beatable!

except he uhhhhhh didnt give them anything there either

“After a fairly intensive practice in the main rink on Tuesday morning, Hanyu took a more cautious approach this time, focusing mostly on strokes and steps.

He attempted just a handful of jumps, including a quad salchow, quad toe loop and a triple axel.

When Hanyu's short program music to Chopin's Ballade No. 1 played, he went through a run-through of it without any jumps. The question now is if that was just a precautionary measure to avoid injury or if there was some other physical reason.

Hanyu departed following the training session without making any comments to the media other than “thank you” as he walked through the mixed zone.” from here

he basically just fucked about for a while, did exactly three (3) major jumps so the media got excited, and then left. which was hilarious to watch the media fallout of if hugely nerve wracking at the time.

so for the men who have a chance at the title and therefore want to know what state hes in, all they now know is that hes capable of some of the major jumps at the very least. so hes not completely out of the running, but the lack of intensity is making it look more like his chances are slim. one of the few things people do know is that hes on painkillers.

the lots for the short program running order is drawn and yuzuru is skating immediately before nathan chen, so nathan will know what state yuzuru is in before he even starts competing. while yuzu is poker facing it completely, nathans been hugely dominant this season while yuzus been off, and yuzu looks like hes playing it safe.

hes not.

so much of this is body language, crowd reaction and attitude, so id absolutely watch the performance at this point if you can, with the knowledge that his assumed closest competitor was going immediately afterwards and the media had been effectively calling his downfall for the entire season.

in summary, its a monster of a performance. at 111.68 points its just shy of 112.72, the world record hed set in september just before injury (among people who score recreationally as a hobby, its pretty consistent that people think this should have been just above, and therefore a new record) he literally flicks both wrists and drops the smile off his face after hes finished, and then comes off the ice saying “im back”, where nathan steps onto the ice while they spend the next SIX MINUTES clearing the rink. i mentioned earlier that in figure skating theres no way of affecting another skater mentally while performing, and that it has to be done before they start or done to themselves. by sheer chance of the program running draw, this was the equivalent of waiting until the last second to deliver the blow. yuzu leaves that day having given the impression that hes totally recovered and nathan ends up in 17th. in the end yuzu wins again and nathan climbs back to 5th. this would have been a pretty incredible mind game even without it seeming to very much throw nathan right off, but i guess it was a bonus in the end.

fundamentally, i think this worked SO well because it was a reminder of basically everything that made yuzu someone to fear, someone COMMANDING in the first place. yuzus radio silence had not only benefitted in that it took some of the pressure off him, but that he had (for the first time in quite a while) made himself an unknown quantity. everyone knows what hes capable of at full health, everyone knows hes intimidating and a show to watch! they hadnt seen him in months though, and there wasnt really a clear sign of the old yuzu during practice sessions though so the doubt crept in. despite him being only 23, hed injured both feet/ankles in the span of only 2 years, and the sport was very distinctly going through rapid changes at the time. it seemed possible to some that he just wasnt able to keep up at his level of repeated injury. he wanted a dramatic return and he got it.

marc and his various methods of reminding the grid what hes capable of so hes a constant presence in their mind is like a dripfeed version of this. yuzu has his own ways, usually more passive, of reminding everyone of this. his most obnoxious one is definitely talking about the quad axel though.

axels are the only jump with an additional half rotation, the takeoff faces forwards and they land backwards. this makes it the most difficult of the entire suite of jumps for each additional rotation. triple axels are a staple for the mens field as the highest ranking of the triple jumps, but a lot of them just are not good at it (everyone has better jumps and worse jumps, axels just seem to be a lot of peoples achilles heel)

yuzuru is obnoxiously good at them, his signature jump is the triple axel with an entry called a back counter, which changes direction and blade edge at the last second making it appear like the jump comes out of nowhere (this in itself is a showman thing) its the most difficult entry for a triple axel anyone does, and hes the only person who ever really bothered trying because even for the highest level skaters its ridiculously hard.

at the point in time of the 2018 olympics, every jump had been landed as a quad apart from the quad axel. and there was a reason for it: the predicted minimum scope needed for this jump was HUGE, at least 70cm high and about 4 metres long. vertical nba jumps are the same height. NO ONE EVEN WANTED TO TRY THIS FUCKING JUMP. there were discussions about just bypassing it and going straight for attempting quint (5 rotation jumps) instead THATS HOW BADLY THEY DIDNT WANT TO DO IT.

yuzuru, having now been forced to admit that a) he actually was still very injured (only 20-30% recovered) and was immediately going back into recovery having defended his olympic title and b) the painkillers didnt do shit so hed been in excruciating pain the whole time (although had gone completely painkiller loopy during gala practice at one point) decided that this was the opportunity to remind everyone that he was still very much the guy to beat despite the media talking otherwise, and announced that thats what hed decided he wanted to focus on next. just to put a little pressure on the field who thought the difficulty of their jumps gave them the edge. truly bonkers crazy, even nathan chen thought he was insane for that one.

hed mention it every so often, and did practice during public sessions on a couple of occasions, which was INSANE because he was very clearly getting closer and closer over time. this thing looked unreal to see, effectively because its bordering on the very limit of what the human body is actually able to do. the first quad jump was landed in 1988, the quad axel was landed (eventually) in 2022. thats how long it took to get there.

the effect this gave was a constant nipping threat on the heels of a field that was at this point pretty much all younger than yuzu (figure skaters retire EARLY). he had his own alien status well and truly secured, but the public reminders where you could tell he was getting closer were OMINOUS. you looked at that the same way you looked at marc when he does a save that doesnt look like it should be physically possible, no matter how good you are you will not be able to pull off whatever that is. it makes you nervous.

this is about marc and also literally from today but is a perfect explanation of the control they both have over the way they communicate.

“Amazing the control he has, not only on the ice but in his life. He controls his choreography, he controls his music. He is just a master at this game” from here

everything is thought out and considered, everything intentional. it means you pay even more attention to their comments even if they sound cryptic. you place more weight in them because you know they are valued and considered.

i’ll wrap it up here as this is ridiculously long! there is a whole other essay i could write about yuzus taste for the show, everything from music to costume to the off ice performance but perhaps another time lol.

[angstigone]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲) (𝟒/𝟒)

the title is a lyric from the song 'give me everything' by pitbull (feat ne-yo and afrojack)

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘂 𝘅 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗔𝗨)

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 (𝟭): 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 (𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱) 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟐) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟑): '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭) 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟒): 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 (𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞)

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

not going to lie, I am not utterly contented with how this was solved as I feel like it might leave out a few questions but what can we do?

also small reminder: after this, you'll get a nanami story after this and I have a poll going on the profile to decide on which stories to focus, although it's very likely that after posting the first chapter of the nanami fic, I'll take a bit of a break from this au and focus on my two other series!

with this being said, as always: if you enjoyed this, pls consider leaving a reblog or a comment as those sure get me writing better and faster!

tagging, @ffsg0jo and @arcielee

have a lovely day!

SUMMARY: everybody seems to agree on one thing: you and your husband needs to talk.

«You know that he doesn’t mean it as well as me». You shook your head, trying to gently reel in the tears, as you had only begun not to cry about this. «He… he thinks that we are nothing» you still uttered shyly «… and I am inclined to agree as we never knew each other».

WARNINGS: slight angst, suggestive, regency ay; period-typical misogyny, haibara being a good brother - finally, mention of alcohol consumption and puking, slight toxic behavior, she/her pronouns, afab characters.

«You look grim».

Satorou regarded Suguru on the other side of the table at the gentleman’s club they had met in with a slight look of dread and sarcasm as if to say ‘you think so?’.

He had been grumbling in a corner the whole night, which had felt like the perfect way of wallowing in self-pity and existential dread till the little alcohol he had consumed dulled him out.

Maybe if he drank enough, he’d have forgotten about you not only being Lady Murasaki but also now knowing that he had lied to you about his inability to conceive. 

He knew that the words he had spoken to you had been harsh and hurt your feelings as you hadn’t eaten dinner the following night, with Haina kindly informing him that you wouldn’t have joined him down for the meals.

You hadn’t shown up also at breakfast the following day, when Gojo had come in passing to the dining hall to know how you felt.

Still as hurtful as the discourse might have been, it wasn’t just you who had been the target of Gojo’s fury as his bitter words had been also direct to himself.

Your secrets had inevitably torn you apart and now you were to pay the consequences, you stuck in your room and to leave for your family estate in a few days and stay there to help your mother with organizing a family celebration of sorts and him standing in a dingy gentleman club with more alcohol than he had ever confused, in so little time.

«You say so?».

His words were slurred and even in his hazed state he knew that Suguru’s eyes flashed with worry for but a moment before they recovered his usual amused expression.

«… it’s just… I have been having problems with… with my lady».

«Lady Haibara?.

Aas if there could ever be another lady apart from you in Gojo’s heart. 

Maybe that’s why your betrayal hurt so much and why he felt like he had lost your trust the moment that your eyes had flashed with worry when you had confronted him about his lies.

«… did… did she… so, she told you after all».

Even in his slurred state, he couldn’t help but be slightly startled at Suguru’s comment, which might have as well been without a doubt meaning anything else, but it’d have been a coincidence far greater than appropriate.

«… what… what should she have told me, Suguru?» and at Suguru’s slight guilt, he felt that the prickling of disloyalty hit him again «So, you knew as well! Am I seriously the last to know?».

«I discovered it by accident» Suguru tried to defend himself.

«My wife and my best friend hiding the biggest of secrets right behind my shoulders» he chanted sarcastically as he downed the rest of his sour drink in one shot, needing it to brighten his mind as further alcohol might only bring more enlightenment.

«She made me swear not to tell you, Satorou» Suguru said seethingly «… she’d have told you and apparently… she did!».

«I discovered it on my own by being an accidental nosy idiot!» he shot back in Suguru’s face, who was promptly by his outburst, coming to his feet as well since Satorou stumbled slightly and they were gaining quite the audience «I snooped into the room and found her draft and I…! How could she marry me if she thought so low of me?!».

«Maybe because her brother said that she either married you or he’d have dueled you?» Suguru sufficed lightly steadying his friend’s body although Gojo couldn’t feel it anymore «… listen… she might not have done… it might not have been nice what she wrote about you but have you read her last pamphlet? I… I am sure that you’d change your mind about…!».

«I can’t» now his anger surmised into a softspoke sadness as he fully slumped against his friend much to Suguru’s protests that he was far too heavy «… she… I lied to her. I lied to her about not being able to have children, instead of…  not wanting them».

Well, there was certainly a different gravity to each lie but this didn’t diminish either the guilt nor the heaviness he felt. 

The uneasiness he couldn’t shoo away whenever he thought of you, wondering whether your actions had been truthful or not. Whether you were you or Lady Murasaki when you were together.

«So, you both lied to each other?» Suguru settled on waiting for his friend’s nod if only to check whether his reflexes still worked «… and you are berating her so harshly - enough to drink your sorrows away - because she did exactly what you have done?».

«Suguru, which part of she’s the woman that hung my balls onto a fireplace for fun, didn't you understand?».

«Always so dramatic, Satorou» Suguru commented promptly although not without a bitter tone «… why don’t you talk with her about it? She probably had her reasons and I am sure you can work something…».

«It isn’t that easy!» now Satorou was full bawling and oh, they had definitely created a scene «… how… how… how can we move on? How… we are stuck in a life of happiness. In a marriage that makes little sense because it started onto both lies!».

«Believe me I do know about it» Suguru shot him down «… she might have… she might have not behaved the best, but if she spoke like that about you Satorou, there must have been a reason. Just as you did with lying to her about children… you can work it out».

«I told her we were nothing» he felt immediately Suguru grew rigid against him «… I… sent her away. Told her we are nothing but husband and wife on paper and…».

«You… Satorou, is it… is it possible that you love her?» he was definitely started by Suguru’s question as it made so little sense in his mind: he had just been venting to Suguru about having been just betrayed by somebody that he was learning to lo…

Oh shit.

«No, no… no I can’t» Gojo pled out «… no this isn’t… father warned me against those who’d use me…».

«She didn’t use you, Satorou» Suguru told him promptly «… she might have been untruthful but I did see the way that she spoke when I confronted her about Lady Murasaki; she never wished for you to be hurt or… she didn’t tell you because she was worried that she’d have wounded you. So deeply».

«That’s exactly what happened» he shot back «… and I.. I hurt her in turn».

«You are both idiots» Suguru muttered «… you, especially as you are out drinking and shouting your private facts in a gentleman’s club, without even having read her last pamphlet!».

«Does she call me some rather colorful insult?».

«No» Suguru grew serious «… she apologized to you».

«What’s this noise?».

The lack of food and tiredness of the past few days had made you rather irritable as a loudand instinct sound of voices, stumbles and heavy steps had you unable to do anything other than to roll around in bed. 

Not that you would be sleeping otherwise as the weight of Satorou’s words still crowded your mind and each time exhaustion befell you, you woke up screaming as you heard his voice repeating ‘we are nothing’.

It was insane how much a broken heart hurt, especially as you had guarded yourself again Satorou Gojo, but here you were as somewhere along the line you had fallen for him. 

And now he hated you. 

What irony.

«The master has come home» Haina told you as she was passing by, holding her apron high while beside her Mrs. Kinawa was holding a huge satchel full of water and you couldn’t help but immediately worry at the way they rushed past you with little to no explanation.

 And although part of you was hurt and angry at your husband, you couldn’t help but worry that anything might have befallen him as he had left when it was already quite late and now he had come back in the early morning alerting the entirety of the house.

You trailed after Haina and Mrs. Kinawa, falling into their quick steps as you felt useless.

«Has… has anything befallen him?» you asked urgently, although you tried to keep your tone careful since you knew that by now all the staff knew that between you and Gojo something had happened that had made you colder than you had ever been «… did… did anything happen to his carriage or…?».

«He’s simply drunk, that fool» Mrs. Kinawa grimaced as you both went down the stairs where none other than lord Geto was holding up a trembling Gojo and from the unsavory smell in the air, you could tell that somebody had puked right at the entrance of your house.

«Couldn’t you wait a few steps?!» and you had an inkling, from Geto’s words, that it had to be Gojo «I had already sent them calling!».

«If I… shit, my head… if I… could have… wait…» and you heard the clear sound of retching although this time Haina and Mrs. Kinawa were quicker with the former angling the master away from lord Geto’s hold while the second dunked him in water before sufficing the empty satchel to collect the bile «… fuck! That… that was cold!».

«Such crass language in front of your lady wife» Mrs. Kinawa sufficed with a slight turn of her spiteful head as she sent Haina away with the disgusting satchel and told her to empty it and procure another and to collect a few servants to help with the cleanup and taking the master to bed «… such a pitiful state to be seen in».

And you couldn’t deny the older woman’s claim as Satorou’s face looked a shade of green too close to be natural and his usually carefree hair now looked tousled and smushed as if he had passed a hand through them right as he was thrown off his horse. 

His eyes were patchy and reddish, especially unfocused as his movements were accompanied by an ever present tremble.

«He never drinks so the one time he gets horridly drunk, he has to act out in all fashion» lord Geto commented grimly before his eyes fixed upon you and you had the distinct feeling that he knew that Gojo’s suffering derived from you, although his gaze wasn’t hostile just wondering «… lady Haibara».

«Lord Geto» you curtsied to him, although you were in your night robe a sight that should have been unseemly but you could care less at the moment as you felt so useless while Mrs. Kinawa took control of the situation and you felt further guilty at the state in which Gojo had reduced himself.

«My lady, won’t you be as kind as to entertain lord Geto while we handle the master» still Mrs. Kianawa - ever the efficient - was quick to suffice as you were glad for the moment once a servant came to help Mrs. Kinawa bring Gojo to the closest bathroom to clean him up as by now his breath had become steady and his eyes closed.

Haina came back with another servant to clean and you ushered Geto in the farthest dining hall from the entrance as the smell of puking still haunted you. 

Not as much though, as the vulnerable form of your husband carried as a baby.

«I’d offer you alcohol but I doubt that you’d like a drop after that spectacle» you grimaced as you invited Geto to sit down.

«No need for me to snatch an armchair as I have no intention to linger long» you could only guess that handling a drunk Satorou must have rotten his mind. 

Not that you blamed him.

«… you two should talk».

«I think that he has made his own mind very clear to me» you shot back a bit annoyed that Satorou would go and vent your own problem outside of your house. 

Couldn’t he think how that might befall onto you? His wife? That’s why you had always been so harsh with him as Lady Murasaki: he held a carefreeness that always hurt others, because he wasn’t careful enough. 

He never seemed to care enough.

Still, you had an inkling that it might be a simple mask and nothing else, with the vulnerability he had shown to you through the first months you had been together.

That, though, would never come back.

«You know that he doesn’t mean it as well as me».

You shook your head, trying to gently reel in the tears, as you had only begun not to cry about this.

«He… he thinks that we are nothing» you still uttered shyly «… and I am inclined to agree as we never knew each other».

«But you have time!».

«I don’t think that he wants to grant me any» although you had been the one to disappear first. Still, you were simply following his own orders, weren’t you? 

You were to be married only in name and nothing else and you’d have respected his wishes.

 Out of spite and sadness.

«He doesn’t even know what he wants, himself!» lord Geto promptly protested «… does… has he read the last pamphlet that he wrote?».

The question startled as you shook your head, lowering it but for a moment as you faced him again with a renewed determination.

«I am done with it» you tried not to raise the tone as not to grow suspicious «… I… it brought only pain in the sole good thing I seemed to be having and… what good have I done if I wrote that to protect those closest to me but just ended up hurting him in the process?».

 And be lied in turn.

Your vulnerability hung in the air as lord Geto seemed deep in thought; you wished to know what he thought and you were scared as your own mind could only conjure so many horrible thoughts and you hated yourself for it.

«… I think that even though it had hurt you both, Satorou wouldn’t want you to give up something that makes you happy» he commented slowly, as if he meant to ease through each word «… talk. Don’t give up on it».

«You make it easy» you scoffed but eventually understood that Geto was quite right.

«It’s late in the night, and my mind can only conjure easy thoughts» he joked, unfitting for the situation but somehow it lightened up the mood «… I shall take my leave so you and Satorou can rest».

«I doubt either of us will, but I thank thee for bringing him back home to me» you smiled gently to lord Geto, accepting his hand gently.

«I do think that you shouldn’t give up that easily…» he commented before adding with a wicked tone «… lady Murasaki».

You ushered him away although with a tiny smile as you made to go back to your sleep just to catch Haina turning back with clean clothes in her hands.

«Oh my lady!» she promptly tried to curtsy and hold the clothes and in such an act - a bit asleep due to the hour - she almost stumbled on her feet «… I mean… I… was going to the master’s room with the new clothes…».

«I’ll handle it» you ached to be useful and shot down any of Haina’s protest that such a role was beneath you, taking the clothes, as she informed that master Gojo had been already washed and there had been water and some pain medicament left for him, in case he felt up to it.

“He slumped like a lug once we put him in bed and I do believe that he shall sleep off such a moment”.

You felt a slight embarrassment at the thought of Gojo’s own actions befalling onto you and although Mrs. Kinawa and Haina were quite faithful to you and him, you weren’t sure of the others. 

This would have inevitably gotten out and it’d have added to the headache you could feel burning in your temples although you couldn’t fully think about it as you rushed to Gojo’s rooms, hesitating a moment upon entering.

You wondered whether to knock although you had been made aware immediately that he was probably asleep so there was no use, although it’d be for good behavior … and … you stilled deciding that you were simply stalled and with an harsh shove you went inside, quick to take into the slight acrid smell of alcohol alongside the cleanness of a bath.

You lingered in the darkness of the room although the moon shone a kind light onto the collected man in the huge bedroom and it took everything for you not to think about the times that you had shared such a bad. 

Still, it seemed that your feet wished to move onto their own as they took you without a thought to the edge as you gently dropped the clothes to the side and noticed that Gojo was barely covered by a sheet.

You shouldn’t have flustered at the sight of your husband’s naked body as you unveiled him gently setting onto having him wear the tunic and then the pants and once you were satisfied you gently dragged a chair to stand by his side as you felt like although your job was done, you couldn’t leave. 

You couldn’t leave him even though you hated him for his lies and the haughty attitude he had had for you upon discovering you were Lady Murasaki.

Did he know how it felt like to have no other purpose than to be bred and follow your husband around, while he withheld important truths? 

Did he not know that you’d have stopped talking about him - even quit Lady Murasaki - if it gave you a chance to plead for his forgiveness?

He couldn’t see and that’s why you’d need to talk. Still, you fear that he might not listen.

«I am sorry» you whispered gently, your hands trailing through his snowy locks as through the moonlight they almost glimmered silver «… it was not my intention to ever hurt you. I… I always thought you were so far away from me… so detached since we were children and yet, I find myself longing for nobody’s closeness but your own».

You wouldn’t have ever been able to say such things to his face, did that make you a coward?

«I am sorry if it shocked you to discover I can have a mind of my own and I am sorry that I couldn’t tell you on my terms, although I am glad you found it out. The secret was eating me from the inside» it was the truth, although you’d have preferred it to your own terms. Still, you doubted anything would have changed «… and I am not sorry for the anger that I showed to you when you lied to me, because you thought me so… so superficial to believe that not wanting children would be a dealbreaker!».

You felt tears down your face as you shyly joined your hands together, before bringing it to your own lips and you noticed the way that Gojo slightly stirred in his sleep, as if startled.

There was no need to talk as you’d have only hurt him.

And without a talk your relationship would have just worsened.

Hence you took your decision for the following morning as you kissed Gojo’s forehead one last time.

The pounding headache that Gojo was expecting in the incoming morning wasn’t as strong as he thought and he wondered whether it had been the lingering kiss that he remembered somebody delivering to his forehead. 

His mother was by now dead and cold and he didn’t believe in ghosts. 

Granny would have slapped him across the face for the mess he had forced her to clean.

Hence you were the sole one that remained, and yet it felt out of character from the person that you had been in those days, although Haina had informed him that you had been the one dressing him as he called upon a servant to be served his breakfast in bed.

 He might not have had a headache but his body felt sick and his stomach at unease, enough that he could barely stomach more than a few sips of his tea.

The previous night felt like a blur, although it had put a renewed purpose in his mind: he had to read your latest pamphlet.

He hadn’t wanted to read the pamphlet that Lady Murasaki - you - had written for your marriage as, at first the occasion felt so grim and gray, and then it had felt so overwhelmed by happiness that he hadn’t wished for it to be tainted by a lady’s harsh words.

Still, Suguru had put a lingering curiosity in his mind and he had to know whether your take on him had somehow changed; last night had been also eye opening both as you had wished to help him throughout his drunken night and both due to his conversation with his friend.

He shouldn’t have casted you out so harshly, especially as he knew that the fault that he had hung above your head was only in partly your own: you had lied to him, he had as well and although not the best start of the relationship, your whole behavior since then had seemed genuine and to live separately as man and wife, it’d have hurt him far more.

For God’s sake, he had gotten drunken just the night before! Something that he tended to avoid.

You had done a number on Satorou, Lady Murasaki or not.

«Master, I have what you asked me» Ijichi came inside holding the piece of paper that Gojo had requested with urgency upon his awakening «…I plead forgiveness for how much time it took me to find it and…».

«Shut it, Ijichi and you are dismissed» he wasn’t in the mood to endure the servant’s apologetic tone, especially as the pamphlet was in his hands and he hesitated for a moment: what if this just worsened things?

 What if… what if he held expectations of anything that wouldn’t be coming?

Oh how he dreaded it all, ugh.

Still, if he stalled anymore, he’d have grown into his father.

With a bit of self-reflection spurred on by the alcohol and Suguru’s silver tongue, he had realized that although all this time he had been trying to make himself spite his father’s last wishes, he had simply been on the road to become exactly like him: a cold husband, a disinterested father.

His vow had never made him realize whether he even wanted children and although not interested, he couldn’t deny now that the thought of a little him and you had him smiling. And he hated himself for having denied you such an occasion.

He had been an arrogant fool, in that much Lady Murasaki was right.

He settled onto reading the pamphlet as he adjusted himself in bed, grinning a bit at your sharp pen attacking the gossipers of your wedding. On that much he did agree and he found that the thought of you behind such a witty commentary made him head, almost proud.

“... it is important, though, that this kind author states something that is dear to her heart”.

Satorou stalled as he read the words, before his eyes rushed to the next lines.

“I often make fun of our beloved count. Not without reason undoubtedly, but even this cold and old heart can recognize that he does have a few qualities. Not too many obviously as we do not wish to stroke such an inflated ego”.

Now, that he knew, all those words… they were your own. 

And they didn’t diverge from how you spoke to him.

He felt like such an idiot.

“... still, he shall have my apologies for when I was too hurtful. My aim is to guide ladies to their ideal matches, not certainly to be mean and awful. Such a behavior does not align with my original purpose and this author shall do better in the future”.

It all felt like too much as Satorou wasn’t used to people asking forgiveness. Not this genuinely.

“Right now, this hopeful author can only hope that count Gojo shall forgive her and laugh at the next inquiries which shall not be about him. I promise and swear on my honor as a gentle lady!”.

He raised from the bed so fast that Ijichi peaked his head inside to assure himself that he hadn’t fallen, as Gojo went to retrieve his night robe quickly, still clutching the pamphlet in his other hand, tightly enough that he was sure that it’d have crinkled and wrinkled. He cared little, as he’d have bought another one and he’d have put a frame around it.

«Where… what’s the rush, my lord?» Ijichi asked as he followed after him.

«I need to see the countess» he needed to do further than that. He needed to go to his knees and pray for forgiveness, assure himself that you knew that he’d never want for you to be parted as in these days. 

That he’d have given you children if you still wanted them with him.

«… is she breaking fast or…?».

«The countess is… she left with the carriage to go back home».

He startled in his steps turning to poor Ijichi.

«What? But… but the party is not… it is not within a few days…» you were to leave in a few days time what would have taken for him to plead forgiveness. 

To settle matters.

«She said that she felt a bit too lonesome in the last few days and missed her family terribly» for which he couldn’t blame you «… actually… she gave me a message to rely upon you…».

«And you didn’t think of starting the conversation with such a thing?!» he didn’t wish to get angry to Ijichi - although he was indeed used as a vent object.

«I just… you asked me the pamphlet and then…».

«Just give me the fucking message, Ijichi» he shut the servant down as the man gently gave him a piece of paper that reeked your soft smell and somehow this had Gojo’s eyes prickle lightly.

He opened the paper swiftly and once inside he saw there were a few lines of writing.

“I am terribly sorry and I hope you shall at least, with time, understand my actions.

I shall return to my family home for the rest of the season so as not to bother you any further.

May you know though, that in mind and in body I shall forever be your wife, although you don’t want to be my husband anymore”.

He crumpled to the ground much to Ijichi’s startelement and worry.

You were gone before he could tell you anything.

You were glad when a kind hand settled onto your waist as the conversation with the few ladies of the ton at your brother’s birthday celebrations had started wearing upon ‘where’s your husband, countess?’.

«Would you mind it if I stole my beloved sister for a moment?» Haibara - ever the charmer - spoke happily in your ear «… it seems that since becoming a married woman, she has also been quite difficult to spend some quality time with».

It was all a chorus of adoring ‘oh, of course’ as Haibara dragged you away from the main crowd closer to the refreshments as you - not so coily - dipped a finger in the enormous cake that was exposed for the guests.

Haibara didn’t say anything about the small infraction as his own finger added to the mixture not too long ago, reminding you of the mischievous way in which you had acted as children at each other’s birthdays.

«Can’t believe that it is my birthday and yet you gain all the attention» he feigned annoyance much to your amusement «… it’d be even worse with Gojo all over the place, ugh».

A slight dark look must have glimmered in your eyes because your beloved brother was quick to add.

«… he isn’t coming, right?».

You shook your head heavily, letting yourself lean slightly against a pillar behind you.

«Did… did anything happen… between the two of you?» Haibara asked, trying to appear tactful. Far more than the nosy ladies of the ton, although it didn’t take much «… my offer to duel him still stands».

«Gods, don’t joke about it!».

Although you chuckled genuinely, moving closer to him enough to bump shoulders as you had by now been far starved of contact and touch, since the fight with Gojo and while before you had seemed to handle such an absence quite fine, since your marriage it just felt unnatural. 

So aching that you felt constantly tired, slumping through the preparations and celebrations as a ghost.

«… something… did happen, though».

«Did he…?» always the concerned brother and you couldn’t deny that although this whole situation wasn’t ideal, it still held a bit of happiness in you, to have such a loyal family.

«No, no, if anything…» it still felt bitter to admit «… I was the one in the wrong».

«How?» Haibara asked genuinely «… because I have known Gojo for the longest time and I do know what a rake he can…».

And maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t stand anymore for your husband to be called a rake. Or maybe you had just enough of the secret festering inside of you. You knew just that you blurted out promptly:

«I am Lady Murasaki».

You expected your brother’s usual boisterous reactions, instead you were startled when facing him again that he looked … unperturbed.

«I know».

«Wait, what?» you were… confused, to say the least «… what do you mean with ‘I know’?».

«Well, who did you think that covered your butt when you sneaked off to do your business with mom?» you hadn’t ever thought about such a thing, thinking that you were a master at discretion. Apparently you weren’t «… and I have spent my whole life with you: I do know how my sister writes and how witty she can be when she wants to».

You were startled that Haibara had known all this time. And hadn’t said anything. Or protested.

«Why… why did you… why?».

«Because I knew that you were suffocating alongside the society and it was your sole way out».

Why did Haibara make it seem so stupidly easy?

«… and still, you forced me to marry Gojo?»

«Only because I know that you have had a crush for him since forever!» Haibara shot back promptly with a slight grin at your flustered face «… and it was a wholly different situation as with Lady Murasaki you weren’t - utterly - risking your reputation while being caught with Gojo…».

«You make so little sense».

«And you, my dear sister, are the smartest among the two of us and yet couldn’t tell I knew you were Lady Murasaki» Haibara was definitely boasting and you wished to headbutt him in the head. At least your mind had been eased away from your husband «… either way, I presume… from our … lively conversation… that Gojo discovered that you were Lady Murasaki as well and…».

«And he didn’t take it kindly» you finished for him immediately noticing the way that Habiara’s eyes shifted into a dark gaze «… he didn’t… he didn’t hurt me or… he just felt betrayed. Rightfully so».

«There’s more, though?» Haibara spurred you on and you cursed his observation skills.

«I… I discovered that he lied… that he told me… we couldn’t have children but it’s simply because he can’t… I don’t know why… but…».

«So, you both lied to each other?» it seemed that to other people the whole thing seemed obvious «Apologize and make up».

«It isn’t that easy!» you protested at Haibara’s gross simplification.

«It is!» Haibara shot back «… you have both done something wrong to the other. And yet, you are both suffering your time apart…».

«I am not sure about Gojo» you uttered back, darkly thinking «… he told me… that we wouldn’t be ever… close again. That we were nothing. I… I literally came before my expected arrival because I knew that you didn’t want me to stay».

«How do you know such a thing?» Haibara questioned, stalling you «… because let me tell you something: I have known Gojo since we were children… he wouldn’t have ever agreed to be as domestic as he is with you - no matter how much I dread the sight - if he didn’t want you to stay. Through the good and the bad».

«I… don’t… don’t think that he wanted me, still» Haibara’s words hit you, but they didn’t shake off the uneasy feeling in your chest.

«Did you ask him?» you startled at the simplicity behind Haibara’s words «… did you ask him to stay, though?».

«I…» you startled although furthermore a slight cough startled both you and Haibara out of your hiding spot and immediately you thought it’d be your mother coming to chastise you because you were slouching off the party that she had so harshly organized. 

Still, you were startled by a pair of bright blue eyes as you saw, after all days, your husband holding a hand out to you.

«If either of you isn’t hiding from some terrible monstrosity in a pinkish dress that pinched my cheeks and called me ‘Sato, darling’, may I ask my beautiful wife to dance with me?».

You were trembling in his arms and Gojo had an inkling that it wasn’t due to the warm weather nor the light fabric of your light blue dress. 

His color, he had immediately thought possessively as he had seen you chat up with Haibara in an angle of your family gardens away from the crowd that had been set onto him.

The dance had started already for a bit and he hadn’t been able to ask you anything although a few million answers went through his mind, as he wished to ask how you were, whether you had been feeling as terribly as him. Whether you’d have ever gone back to him, although he didn’t deserve you.

Still, it was you who spoke first:

«Why did you come?» although the words had an aggressive undertones, they lacked the true bite to it, as your tone felt mellow. 

He knew now that you were trembling because you were so close to breaking apart upon seeing him and hated himself for it. Still, he couldn’t feel guilty for chasing after you.

He only hoped that these days apart hadn’t changed your mind about being his wife.

«I… well, your family invited me and it’d have been rude … and if we aren’t seen together I…!» God, why couldn’t he simply tell you that he had come to get you? Probably because it felt very primal and the last time that he had acted this way, you had been forced to get married. Not certainly the worst outcome he had gotten though «… and I.. well, I did miss you».

You startled, stumbling in your step, although Gojo was quick to help you not fall.

«About my family, you didn’t have to» you commented slightly coldly «… I had already told them that you’d be terribly busy and wouldn’t be able to be there».

He couldn’t help but slightly pout not only because of your obvious disgruntled tone towards him and also because he didn’t want your family to think that he was too busy. Too busy to stand by his side, as it made him seem arrogant and… awful. Still, he couldn’t blame you.

«As for the… second reason I… well, I guess… I missed you as well, my lord».

Oh, Satorou felt his lips quirk up lightly, in the hope that maybe not everything was lost.

«Satorou» you startled at his low voice as he gently pushed you closer «… my wife shouldn’t address me so coldly, don’t you think?».

Now your startlement turned into distrust.

Your gaze hardened lightly and Gojo felt something in the pit of his stomach grow sour.

«I didn’t think that I was that anymore».

«I…».

Still right as he was about to reply, you were stolen away for the exchange of partners, with you ending up in Nanami Kento’s arms. Of course, it’d be just his luck as he received in his own one of the Zenin twins; he couldn’t tell which nor he cared as he awaited for the dance to end slowly trying to move closer to you, again so that he’d be able to talk with you more.

Still, luck seemed to be on his side as he felt a slight pitter onto your shoulder, and then he soon realized that it was full blown rain, although the sky had been so serene for the moment. 

He startled as he saw everybody rushing through to enter your own house with your mother and father ushering through, although you stayed on the dancefloor.

Your eyes stuck on him.

And Satorou had grown loveless, as if he had witnessed love but never thought that he had felt it upon himself: admiration and flattery had been constant in his life but not love. 

And yet, could anything be love but the way you found him so easily and waited for him although the rain was drenching you.

He rushed to you, discarding swiftly his jacket, although it’d have done little to shield you from the pouring water as he held it upon your head, to at least shield you a bit.

«We should go inside!» although you didn’t make any move to comply with the phrase.

«I am sorry!» instead he screeched catching you off guard «… for… for…».

«You have every right to be angry at me».

«I have every right to feel betrayed and sad» he shot back, immediately noticing your slight discomfort «…. but I had no right to shut you down and tell you those things. I had no right to steal a family away from you or lie to you».

«Sat…» oh you had almost said «… Gojo, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss of this matters…».

«I don’t care» he knew that he could have been brash and straightforward but he couldn’t care at the very moment «… I read your latest pamphlet, the ones about our marriage».

You obviously startled at his admission, your eyes lowering gently to the ground with shame as you spoke quickly.

«I’ll stop writing» you said with an air of finality and Gojo’s heart fell into his stomach «… I… I don’t think it’s proper anymore and as you have pointed out I did more bad than…».

«If you… if you wish to stop writing out of your own volition, I… you should do so…» he spoke carefully as he felt like you were slowly opening through lightly drenched eyelashes and your blush being splashed all across your face. And yet, you were so enchanting as a fairy listening to a mere human «… but don’t stop. Not because of me».

«It… it ruined everything!» you protested promptly, as your lower lips quivered lightly and he had an idea that it wasn’t because of the cold you felt, although he damned the jacket and brought you in a loose hug to his chest «… I… I hurt you and I… I am so sorry, oh my love!».

«Shh» he ushered you gently, big hands drawing comforting circles onto your back «… we hurt each other badly, that much is true, but… I… there was no need to be so harsh with each was there?».

You nodded softly in his chest and it felt like a weight had been lifted from it, although he had much more to talk about.

«… when you… when I discovered that you were Lady Murasaki I was… bereft, not necessarily at the discovery but because all my life I have been trying to put these walls around me. Everybody thinks I am so charming but so far I have been untouchable» he explained gently as he lightly put some distance between the two of you, mostly to gently hold your chin up to meet his eyes «… my… my upbringing has been cold and when my father died I swore that to spite him I wouldn’t have continued his legacy. I’d have been the last one».

Something akin to tenderness filled your gentle eyes and Satorou wondered how he had ended up with somebody as good as you.

«…then you, lady Haibara, waltzed into my life and struck me with new life and happiness. And it had me realize that to spite an old man’s wish I was ruining everything good that I have ever felt. The first person to touch me truly» he spoke gently as he went to lay a soft kiss on your cheek and then the other «… I am sorry, I am so fucking sorry of every small pain I have caused you and I do know that you have evidently made up your mind but I just ask that you…».

«Will you stay?» you startled with the sudden genuine question, interrupting him halfway. He didn’t think - he couldn’t - for a moment as he regarded you attentively «… I want you to stay. Here. By my side. Forever as you want me».

It was your way of saying that - somehow - you accepted him. And it was tender and tentative and he couldn’t ask for more.

«Not even a blister will be able to send me away, my love» he said gently, before moving a hand to your waist to accompany you inside where all the other guests were probably waiting «… but why don’t we continue talking near a fireplace? I wouldn’t wish for my wife to grow sick when I have so much to do with her».

«Didn’t I tell you that whenever mama is in her room you don’t have to bother her?».

Although the attempt to be stern, your child giggled in your lap at your husband’s inquiry as you gently turned to face him with a pen in your hand - obviously stained in ink - and another hung loosely around the child’s waist as a protection.

«Mama, mama!» the boy chanted happily as since he had learned how to talk he had become impossible to be stopped by either you, the maids or his father. 

Still, there seemed to be a specific place where he would go: your own studio, a former bedroom that had been converted into a studio at the end of your pregnancy. 

A push gift some would say, from your own husband for having given him a healthy baby.

«I don’t mind, my love» you replied gently «… the afternoon lacks inspiration at the moment».

«A pity» Satorou muttered softly as he went to come close to you and finally allerting the danger of his father’s teasing, Yu gently hid in your chest much to your laughter and his father’s chagrin «Oh, we aren’t so bold anymore, are we?».

«Mamaaaaaa gooooddd» Yu chanted as a prayer much to your laughter and Satorou’s irritation, although he was gentle as he grabbed the baby from you, no matter the fact that he promptly clawed into your dress as not to be brought away «Daaa baaadddd».

«Oh, already picking favorites?» Satorou quirked an eyebrow as soon as he had his child in his arms and leaving you to take an heart attack as he threw your bundle of joy in the air and caught it up just as swiftly. 

Unlike you, the child giggled and called for it to happen again while you collected yourself.

«Satorou!» you chastised him promptly «… don’t ever do that with my child!».

«Our child» Satorou shot back showing you his tongue and although you ought to reprimand such a behavior, it filled you with happiness that Satorou felt so proud of the child he had had with you. 

For somebody who had vowed not to have any, he had taken to the role brilliantly although it also meant a moment where he could, indeed, be a bit too carefree. Still, you guessed it ought to balance your more serious character.

And you knew that Satorou felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought of becoming a father. Not as much as for the children but worrying that, after all the years during which he had spited such a role, he wouldn’t be able to act as a good father. You had reassured him whenever the need arise as he had done so when you had doubted your body after the pregnancy.

Although it hadn’t started well and had a few interruptions on the way, you loved the family that you had created and wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the whole wide world. 

Not even when Satorou gave you heart attacks with your child.

«And don’t worry, I’ll always catch him».

Although you knew he meant the child, you knew it referenced something… deeper, and you got up from the chair to come to where he was holding your giggly child, gently blowing raspberries in his adorable stomach to heighten the laughter.

«As for your inspiration…» Gojo snickered once he gently laid your child on the bed as he had finally droopy eyes while you went again to the desk, with your husband standing behind you to look at the few lines that you had written «… I might have a rather… lengthy gossip for you».

You couldn’t help the slight giggle that left your lips: although Gojo had always dreaded Lady Murasaki, it seemed that since he had discovered it was you, he had become an accomplice of sorts although you had by now stopped to report fully on every gossip, choosing - as not to alert and neither hurt those closest to you - to write only about the most dangerous and harmful of scandals.

Such as the one of viscount Naoya getting terribly drunk at his father’s funeral, when in the will everything was left to a distant - widowed - relative, Toji Fushiguro. 

It’d have been an interesting season without a doubt.

«… do tell me, my nosy husband» you joked gently, patting his hip as he lowered himself to your height much to your embarrassment. 

You might have been married for a few years and yet it was enough to have you flustered.

«It appears that Nanami and his lady have come back from their honeymoon in Paris» he spoke soft-spokenly right in your ears while a hand gently brought away the hair that had fallen into your face, pushing it behind your shoulders in a makeshift ponytail by his hands.

«Well, it was warranted as honeymoons usually do end» you joked as you didn’t know where Gojo was aiming to go.

«…sadly so» you slapped lightly the hand that Satorou brought to his forehead in a dramatic manner as he had been insisting that you take another honeymoon soon. 

And maybe produced the Gojo dynasty another heir, although you preferred not for the sanity of Mrs. Kinawa and Hakina.

«… well, what you didn’t let me tell you…».

«If only you’d always go right to the point, husband» you pretended to complain, even stifling a slight yawn.

«Oh but you do love it when I take my time» again, even after all these years, you couldn’t endure your husband’s teasing, although you enjoyed it. Not that you’d have ever admitted it «… what you didn’t let me tell you, though… it appears that Lady Nanami harbors a slight… bump. If you catch my drift».

And immediately your eyes brightened up as you turned to Gojo all too happy for your friend and his wife as their love story had been… quite unconventional and that they now felt stable enough for a child?

It was wondrous.

«I need to pen them my congratulations» you said swiftly, although your husband was quick to reign you in by your waist gently as he kissed your forehead, promptly hasting the chase.

«Everybody seems to be having children» oh you knew exactly where he wished to go, you laughed at his attempt «… when are we going to give Yu, a younger brother or sister?».

And it felt startling to the think that back at the start of the season a few years ago, Gojo’s eyes had set upon you in amusement and your own on him in distaste, while you were in love, having each defeated your pride and your hatred for a family of your own.

«Well, it depends…» you commented with battling eyelashes as you gently throw your arms around his neck «… on whether you can get me a moment alone from my writing and our child. And on whether you can take a pause from your work, my dear count».

Gojo’s eyes twinkled with a pure happiness before they went back to their usual malicious glimmer.

«… well, then I know just the right alcove».

credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Please, can we get ithaqua the night watch w a gn or fem reader that their mother like... Sick or passed away? Comfort pls, i rlly need it because im in the same situation and just wanna asking for some comfort, i really like your works but idk if you are ok writing for this request :(((

First anon, im hugging you! And I hope this helps as much as it can <3

Rated: T | Warnings: death of a love one, grief

Much of his humanity died after saving the shell of the woman he called mother. He protected her for many years until she finally was given peace by passing in her sleep. Ithaqua did not cry, all his tears were spent and had grown numb, the mother he knew died in that cursed village. No amount of vengeance will ever make up or satisfy him, none of it will bring back what was stolen from Ithaqua. Night Watch, he helped him rip out what his mother cared for, to lay to rest the love she gave the boy she saved.

Yet, here he is standing behind you watching you weep endlessly over the now deceased body covered by a blanket of your mother. He is there unsure what to do, what to say, or give; Ithaqua had no idea nor was able to grieve properly. You stand up then hug him, burying yourself as much as possible into him as if he is the only thing who can protect you. His arm wrapped around you hiding within his cloak, his eyes behind the mask on the body on the bed.

Your mother was a woman who lived in the wilds, a wild woman they called her. You told him your story, about how your mother is the Baba Yaga, how she is a great mother, and taught you many things. Ithaqua learned she used hallucinogenic herbs to shield both herself and you from outsiders, including him at the time.

A witch in a walking house with chicken legs. Impressive honestly.

“Can… You help me…” Trying to talk between hiccups, “Lay her to rest?” Choking out the words as it further makes this a reality. She died. You are alone. Mother is gone, the title of Baba Yaga falls on you to protect yourself. You tremble as the anxiety and pain of loss do not let go of their grip on you. The Night Watch can only hold you close, squeezing you so you are consumed by his presence.

Ithaqua waits for you to finish burying your mother, you could not create a proper grave like other places do. The last thing you need is to pack up and leave, for someone to unbury and desecrate your mother's grave. You did however cover her grave with flowers she loved, from dust to dust her body returns to the soil.

“Ithaqua,” You say while looking at freshly turned soil, “Were you scared when you lost your mother?”

He is currently standing looking out into the woods, “Yes.” This is all he can get himself to say without himself recalling unwanted emotions and memories.

“...I'm glad I am not alone…” Misery loves company as they say, “Will you be leaving tonight?”

“No, you need to be watched over.”

You go quiet then turn to see his head turned in your direction. When you first saw him, he reminded you of an owl. Staring at you as you had ventured too far from the ‘domain of the Baba Yaga’.

You both stared before he walked over to you, moving into your personal space with his masked face kissing your lips. His hands are on your shoulders as he kisses you in his own way, “(Name),” Like an animal trying to comfort another, “You will not be alone.” He may be a monster but he finds he is not completely without humanity.

[love-kurdt]

What are your all time favourite fanfics from each genre: fluff, smut, and agnst? <3

oh lord, this is TOUGH. i’ve read thousands of fanfics in my life and it’s borderline impossible for me to choose 😭

i can’t rlly separate them into genres per se bc most of them are multi chapter novel-length fics, but i will if applicable!

i’m not a huge fan of condensing entire works into a single word!!! authors work too hard for their writing to be trope-ified like that! so if any of the writers come across this post, please know that i would write fucking essays about these fics if y’all asked.

and one last disclaimer: i’m currently on my phone with limited cell service in europe and can’t jump between tabs to check peoples’ separate tumblr and ao3 usernames, so i’ve tagged who i know off the top of my head!!

so here are my top 10 (in no particular order, just listing what comes to mind first)

“in the sun” (kurt cobain x OC) by ugh-nirvana on wattpad. it has been my favorite fanfiction of all fucking time; i read this at least once a year. primarily fluff and angst, but it follows the OC and kurt through high school and into adulthood. the author and i are actually friends now bc we wrote two of the most popular kurt cobain x OC fics on wattpad 😭🖤

“the windows of this love” (byler angst) by delusional together (Whyyyyy) on ao3. phenomenal story, i cry every time i read it, and i’ve read it so many times it’s kind of a problem lmaooo. it was also one of my inspirations for TIMT.

“that blue gibson” (dave grohl x OC) by thatbluegibson on wattpad. a literal masterpiece. cute, romantic, fluffy, spicy, all of the above.

“the rawest desire (in it’s friendliest form)” (byler smut) by bangingbiddies on ao3. they have a very apropos username; this fic had me slamming my laptop shut multiple times and screaming at my cat. probably the best smut i’ve read tbh.

“i’m a wreck (without you here)” (byler angst) by @oldfashionedmorphine on ao3. INSANE. BEAUTIFUL. LYRICAL. i cannot praise this story highly enough, it’s one of my favorite byler fics of all time. alcoholic mike wheeler is my favorite mike wheeler ngl.

“second chances and dances” (byler angst/fluff) by @foodiewithdahoodie on ao3!!!! i’m a huge sucker for dad mike fics, and this one is *chefs kiss*

“lost without you” (byler angst/fluff) by julia_skysong on ao3. another dad mike fic i actually just finished for the 3rd fucking time in the past 6 months. i recommend reading this whole series, it’s so well written (and is still being written!!).

“fence sitter” (byler smut) by pinkcash on ao3. exactly what the title suggests. sensually spicy and severely suspenseful.

“boy in my class [gerard way]” by lilyrose93 on wattpad. it’s a gerard way x OC. very cute, very cliche, but if you’re looking for ✨fluff✨, this is it. and listen, i know writing about real people who are still alive is kinda weird but like… this one is serious, ok??? 💀

“tell me i’m a bad man” by therevengeparade on wattpad. along the same lines as the one before this— it’s teacher/student frerard. very messy, very smutty, top tier drama. if it helps at all, this was probably my initiation to gay fanfic. so… thanks therevengeparade!!! love u!!!

-

happy reading, friends 🥰🖤✨

[neptunescore]

I’m the active Zack brown hater anon from a while back and some hot takes from me is that people need to understand that drivers can fight with each other!! (And fans need to stop babying drivers…) Maybe it’s because I’m used to seeing fights from players in other sports but one thing I think if very hypocritical of people is that if you want competition you need to understand there WILL be fights. You can’t hate on drivers winning all the time and then say they’re a hypocrite when they fight with other drivers or their teams because they lost out on a win. If you want F1 to be like any other sport every fan, (mostly the new one’s but not everyone) needs to understand they aren’t family. They will always be “coworkers” at best but by default everyone are rivals and fighting for a title, yes, even their teammates.

I think I’m mainly upset at this because of the recent backlash at many drivers. One with Carlos taking out Albon. It wasn’t at all Carlos fault it was simply bad luck yet people are acting seriously that Carlos won’t get that Williams deal. This isn’t a sport where oh no we won’t sign you because you did something to our current driver. F1 teams will always think about their future, not about the little family fans think everyone is (I’m looking at you McLauren…).

this now is a side note but people couldn’t handle Max pushing Esteban or George, the fanbase doesn’t understand players in a sport will always be competitive and have the right to be angry! (Even if they may be wrong in the moment, but I’m not specifically saying Max was wrong in this context)

F1 is a dangerous sport in all so every driver has a right to be mad at each other all in all if anything happens on track. It’s good they aren’t out right brawling and I’m happy there is not but I also think fans should not baby the drivers when arguments happen (with fellow drivers or their team…) Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Calling u the ZB❌️ anon bc for some reason that's hilarious to me, and it's smthng we both feel viscerally abt😤

You're literally the love of my life😌😘. And ur takes are never wrong, and we need to get married right now🤭🤗

No but srsly, UGH as an f1 fan that's been here for a while seeing SOME (not all of you, dw most of u guys are lovely) of these new fans come in and coddle drivers (excessively) is so ANNOYIMG to me because are they forgetting this is an actual SPORT?? a VERY competitive one at that.

Like, OF COURSE, ur going to see heated moments between drivers, OF COURSE ur driver is gonna get caught up in a racing incident, OF COURSE, his teammate will try to overtake/ race against him when given the chance (talking abt the lewis and george fight in canada)??? They're all competing against each other. WHAT DO YOU EXPECT??

Don't even get me started abt fans who get pissed at drivers due to basic racing incidents, like??? I get being annoyed in the moment, but to go and shit post abt that driver on ur social media later is just WILD to me.

Anywayy, I agree with everything uve brought up, and thank u for gracing my inbox ZB❌️ anon <3