#*cue a sitcom tune

[savstone-rp]

Obituaries: July 14, 1932 – February 27, 2025 Maude Fitzgerald, passed away at the age of 92. A woman of quiet mystery, Maude's past was a patchwork of half-told stories and lingering questions. Born in Merrock, Maine, rumors swirled that she may have worked as a dock worker in her youth, though no one could confirm the details. In her later years, Maude lived a solitary life, accompanied only by her cats. For much of her life, Maude lived in a modest studio apartment in the heart of downtown, where she resided for over 40 years. Later, quietly befriended the staff of the salon below, though she kept to herself otherwise. A presence that was unforgettable — marked by a certain enigma that few could crack. Maude leaves behind a legacy of unanswered questions and a sense of intrigue that will linger long after her departure. (note: the beloved cats have been safely taken to Merrock's Animal Sanctuary; call or stop in for rehoming requests)

Val: Which one of you did this? Who talked to the paper? Maude 'Befriended the staff at the salon'. 'Worked on the docks?' That sounds a little too familiar. Don't you think, Len?

Casey: Why are you looking at me? Not me. I liked Maude, sweet old lady. Loved when she'd hit my shins with her cane on her way out for her happy hour red next door. She was great.

Aly: Didn't she threaten feeding you to the sharks off the docks if you didn't annunciate and brush your damn hair?

Bodhi: Nope. That was me.

Casey: Hey I might've been the one who picked up the phone, but she who shall not be named came up with the idea—

Sav: Damn, you broke quick. Whatever, she would approve. She tried to push me into the FedEx truck once. I told her I'd come back and haunt her if she ever acted on that senile old lady schtick again. The Obit's not even bad, made her sound cool.

Val: She kinda was for doing that —

Bodhi: Well ladies and Case, Sav, those cats are gonna go quick — my three o'clock bailed so you know the drill...

Val: The cats? Sav: The cats? The fuck?

Aly: You know what else is gonna go quick? That apartment. It smells, it smells a lot and I know it because I took up Maude's mail when she'd forget it when she was busy trashing all our hair. Sav, aren't you still freeloading off that cute chef guy?

Casey: the cats...

Sav: Oh god, besides it's fumigation process, there's no way. That shit has to be expensive as fuck. I bet it smells like her too, cat piss and Maude.

Val: Yeah, probably. Maude and her patoulli smelling ass will be the one to haunt you, for sure. But you want a place of your own again right? Better get on it, Kayla's looking and would snatch it in a heartbeat.

Bodhi: No more call ins when you don't want to do Miss Claudia's hair — forgot my keys...

Sav: —

Aly: I vote yes, I need a downtown crash pad.

Casey: oh my god, duh. Big same. Yes! Sav do it, quit leeching! *Phone rings* Shear Sins! It's Lena, how can I help you? — and no one tell Kayla, uh huh no. Not you, Kayla's open Friday at noon. Got you in Miss Claudia, no we won't be playing any Doechii, I'll make a note.

[catboygirljoker]

Ok but see now I want story time about the Not Good Narnia Musical

regrettably its mostly bad in ways that arent funny to describe. just amateurish and awkward. i think it was the only musical its creators had ever written and it sounds like it

but one very concrete example i can give of it sucking is that the family, the pevensie children, all fucking hate each other in the musical. they spend the entire time insulting each other. they never stop doing it even after they supposedly have a character arc where they overcome this.

there's literally a single page in the script where the top is the end of a song between edmund and aslan where edmund promises that he's going to be a better person (after selling out his family for candy. you know)...then aslan walks away and edmund's family walks up....and they ask edmund what all that was about...and then edmund's like "oh yeah uh haha aslan was just saying that it's all good and i didnt mean anything by it so we're cool now" and then his family start insulting him again and it's like the song literally didnt happen or matter at all! absolutely no idea why it's like this except that the writers werent very good!

our specific production was bad for other reasons (overambitious underfunded not very well respected small town community theater trying to do two productions at once, so all the adults in town who could act at all were already in the worst possible production of rocky horror, so all but Two cast members in Narnia were literal children when the show is not meant to be sung by literal children, etc)

[kooyabooya]

PURITIES, IMPURITIES

yunjin & kazuha x m reader

31k words

Alright - this is kind of one of those cliché, freeze-frame moments from those sitcoms that puts you right in the middle of the action, or- when you wake up with a pounding headache of hangover after having an apocalyptic night out and somehow everything you’re trying to remember is nothing but a complete blank. 

Yunjin sells the part right away, groggily after waking up saying: “God, can you believe what the hell happened last night?” 

Sadly, you don’t recall it from the get go. 

Kazuha’s body curling the pillow serves as the first piece of information at the scene of the crime: your bed. 

“She’s gonna give us an earful of this when she's up,” you say. “We’d be lucky if she’s in a good mood by then.” 

“There’s nothing to freak out about,” and Yunjin’s reassurance gives you a warming glimmer of hope. “I’ll tell you this. She came to me, first.” 

“Are we talking back then or earlier?” 

Yunjin slaps your arm, laughing. She’s aware that the inquiry was entirely rhetorical, a minor press to her buttons. Her thumb rubs Kazuha’s temple, moving a few strands of messy hair away from her face. Bright rays of sunlight breaking through the drapes and the evidence is riddled all over her: the marks, the dry streaks of cum at her legs, sweat glistening across her skin. Your mental checklist is filling up by the minute. 

“To be fair,” and it’s a realization to be made: “She did ask for this.” 

“Yes," Concurs Yunjin. "Yes she did.” 

–

Let’s summarize it like this: post-grad life is absolutely no joke. 

Your realization of this has been deeply humbling. 

And you’re reminded, again - from one of your friends who’s on the same boat as you: taking things day by day is always the way to go, don’t ever forget that. 

It sounds easier said than done. 

The lovely chime of the lock popping out from its hole plays a nice tune of pomp and circumstance, your humble abode of trinkets and gadgets and items greeting you a ‘welcome home!’ after a long day of work. It’s worth noting: you’re not actually working - not yet, but the job search in the pool has been quite dry. 

You sigh, get your shoes off at the doorstep, and toss your jacket on the nearby chair you lay your eyes on. 

When you finally hobble over to the couch, Yunjin appears right on cue; half hair up, half down, fresh out of the shower and in one of your shirts. You know her schedule by heart: the day was Thursday, which meant that she was out for a pickleball run with Somi and Giselle who convinced her to give the sport a try. She had some prior experience with tennis, so most of the skills easily transferred over. Talk about being multi-talented. 

“Hey,” she greets, tapping your thigh as a signal to give her some space on the seat. “Long day today? 

“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the sleepiness off your face and graze your thumb on the top of Yunjin’s thigh. “Nothing much to report- oh. I managed to get a callback from that one place I told you about last week.” 

“The start up Sian’s working in? Any good news?” Her voice lights up in excitement, brows elevated and head at an angle like a golden retriever. “I thought that place was only fifth in your options.” 

“It was, but figured that I’d work backwards on the list from bottom to top.” 

Yunjin smirks, nails to your knuckles, tic bouncing off her tongue, agreeing. “What an innovator.” 

“A different angle,” you laugh, “Worth giving it a try.” 

“We all have to start somewhere,” she tells you, voice light-hearted and calming. “Besides, life isn’t a linear graph that one follows. Everybody has their ups and downs they don’t want to admit.” 

She does have a point, so you nod. 

“Don’t be discouraged if there’s no results right away,” she adds on, lifting her hand up for you to momentarily give you a handshake as if she was your brother or something, curling your fingers with hers before ending it off with the pull down, gently slapping your cheek to force a smile out of you. Yunjin’s got all the remedies you can ask to boost your mood up, no point arguing otherwise. “You also said that you didn’t like the one other place second on your list.” 

“That cafe would be nice. Can finally cross off how to make the perfect matcha drink, too,” you reply, sitting up and sliding your arm across her waist, bringing her closer. 

“Mhm,” she hums, smiling the more she leans into your touch. If there was anything that you know very well to do: is how easily it is for her to let these things slide - more so like you can literally sweep her off her feet and suck the life out of her, without having the guilt lingering whatsoever. She’s so agonizingly pretty in your eyes and the fact she can say some of the coolest things in her perspective about life because she realizes that it cuts both ways. You could listen to her talk smart all day, until she plays into the dirty ditz where it gets closer to one familiar end far faster than you would like to admit. “I’ll say this compliment, then: you already have the best cup of coffee in town,” Yunjin says, a smirk with a chin lifted up and your tongue pressing the inner side of your lip. Her gaze goes hazy, and the half-lidded eyes coming from you really sends the message either way. “I actually like the whole package you’re selling. It’s sweet.” 

“You think of me as sweet? I guess so too.”

“That’s not the only thing sweet about you,” says Yunjin, palming your crotch and scratches the fabric, her breath at your teeth. “You’re dangerous.”

“Jen, what are you trying,” you chuckle, slow and low; the tone like you’re wanting to find something without putting too much force into suspicion. “Need I remind you that you were almost late to practice earlier?” 

As Yunjin bites her lip at the lean in, only to be interrupted by the same chime at the door. A second later, the sound gets replaced by another girl’s huff, keys jangling and boots clattering on the floor before making their way further into the apartment. Both of you look towards her direction out of curiosity. 

“Back already, Zuha?” Yunjin asks, leaning out more to the point she’s almost perpendicular to the seat of the couch, “How’d the hair appointment go?” 

“Good!” Kazuha beams, shrugging off her handbag and straightening her denim jacket outshined by her new color of hair - she mentioned it in the group chat between you three with a picture of her head wrapped up in tinfoil, so the input paid off. “Thought it would take longer, but I really like this shade much more than the blonde I had a year ago.” 

“Oh god,” you breathe, “I can’t stress how much I hated the blonde shade back then.” 

Kazuha’s brows crinkle, lips inward. She doesn’t want to admit it herself, but she did say her blonde hair wasn’t the right choice. “Dickhead. I thought I told you to take that opinion outside.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s right.” 

“Guess I don’t have to ask you what you think about my hair and go directly to Yunjin instead.” 

“Ash blonde is more of your style, Kazuha,” you admit, Yunjin also agreeing with a little nod of her own. “If you were to ask me, I’d prefer this one over the blonde you had from last year.” 

“He does have a valid reason,” Yunjin adds, palm to your chest when she stands up from the couch with a water bottle in her hand from the table. Tosses it towards Kazuha who catches it without an issue. “You staying in or stopping by tonight?” 

Kazuha chugs half the bottle down, smacks her lips soon after. “Got an hour to chill, told Saku and Chaewon we’re eating out tonight. Since Sakura’s boytoy leaves tomorrow to-” 

“Study abroad,” you input, “I remember she was talking to me about him a few weeks ago.” 

“So no more dick for me or her,” Kazuha says. 

“You’re serious,” you say back. “Dude.” 

Kazuha twists her face, hands wrapped tighter around the plastic. “Dude. It is serious. A total loss for the home team.” 

“He wasn’t even your boyfriend to begin with.” Yunjin butts in, almost ad-libbed. 

“That’s what makes it fun!” 

“This girl can’t be helped,” Yunjin, shifting her attention to the cutting board of chicken and vegetables. “Sucks for her to be put out of commission all because she can’t get her pussy filled up this weekend.” 

“I heard that, bitch.” Kazuha yells deep in the hallway. “Why don’t you tell Chaewon while you’re at it too with her boyfriend.” 

You laugh at the annoyance Kazuha has in her voice. Yunjin rolls her eyes and wheels around in the kitchen. The pair part ways into doing their own activities around the place and that’s really the end of that. There’s a sense of comfort you find yourself in within these walls. When the world outside you doesn’t swing the way you want it to, it’s always nice to lay back and relax - save the problems of today to tomorrow. You lace your fingers together, put them over your waist and cross your ankles up to the armrest, closing your eyes.

“I’ll be here,” you’re saying aloud, a usual announcement during these hours: “Wake me up when the food’s ready, or if Kazuha leaves, whichever happens to come first.” 

–

Among the never ending loop of emails, interviews, and outings at different food spots to brush up the resume, you’re getting sick and tired of the daily activities as a whole. You’re doubtful, like a running inside joke you’re not in on. 

You tell Yunjin about the struggles, to which she tells you: “there’s no such thing as mistakes in a plan that’s meant for you, babe.” God bless her, the literary ability this woman has reminds you again as to why she wanted to be an english teacher or writer. Hell, philosophy might’ve been her forte, but it’s another debate topic to save for later. 

Kazuha’s outlook is a bit more abrasive; more real and a little less innocent, doesn’t mince her words at all. “Look, I know we give much shit between us at times,” she blurts out on a random afternoon, “but I think those people who do the hiring don’t know what you’re capable of yet, and it angers me about them not caring about you.” 

“Didn’t think you’d have the heart to say that to my face.” 

Kazuha squints, confused. Yunjin looks up from her book, eavesdropping. 

“If we’re being honest,” Kazuha continues with a wave of her hand. “this is basically like you getting me through college apps back in senior year, me having the breakdowns on a nightly basis because you shat on my essays being complete trash-” 

“Somewhat relevant, yes. Still isn’t as close to what I feel.” 

Ever since graduation (and even before then), the pair have gotten used to each other in no time flat. Yunjin eventually had to end the lease on her apartment at the beginning of summer and it was a no brainer when you popped the question of moving in. They both have similar tastes, similar styles - the list goes on and on. But hey: two of the hottest girls on campus are living with you and every time someone brings it up you just give them a shrug. 

(The non-verbal message presents itself like it’s no big deal. 

Or one quiet way of answering: ‘fuck you, stay out of my business’.)

Yujin closes her book and treats herself to the cup of tea on the table. “It’s pretty much a similar experience across the board, no need to overcomplicate it.” 

You check your phone with the same kind of energy in receiving a text. Quick skim here, no luck. “Whoopty-fucking-do, still no message back from Minnie about the software position.” 

“No stress babe, it’s Friday night after all.” 

“I’d text her personally to see if there’s any hold up, rush the process a bit.” Kazuha suggests. 

You pull your lip. “I could, but what do you want me to do? It’s not my fault that the job market and economy as a whole is in shambles, toying with the idea of teasing me like it’s some ‘will they, won’t they’ kind of situation. But seriously-” and here your hands are in your face in a small sign of frustration, “it’s a bit discouraging on the latter when I could be spending my time on-” 

“Pressure isn’t a good look on you,” Kazuha tuts, snorting. She reclines back on the seat, sliding her heels on the floor, “I’m sure someone will swoop you on their ship sooner or later. The strategy here is just sit and wait, taking into account the number of places you dropped by today and they can’t look at the CV the moment you hand it to them. Ever heard the saying: “Rome wasn’t built in a day?” 

“Classic for the kids.” Yunjin recites, hands bracing her chin. “Patience is always the everlasting virtue.” 

“Both of you are dead last in lecturing me about practicing a positive mindset.” 

Here they laugh in midst of deliberation. Because Yunjin’s shaking her head while Kazuha’s turning her attention away to something that isn’t on you. The heat starts to rise on your face in embarrassment. Yunjin’s gaze lowers on Kazuha as she crosses her arms, fingers tapping along the opposite limb, sharing the same look before she looks over to you once again. Silence fills the table for a moment until Kazuha’s phone vibrates on the table, prompting her to swipe it off the surface and check the notifications in mere milliseconds. 

Kazuha’s eyes briskly shimmers from the screen, face lighting up once she’s finished reading. “Oh shit,” she breathes. “I forgot I was going out with Sakura tonight.” 

“Where to this time?” 

“Eunchae’s,” she answers, briskly standing up and typing her life away. “Just a quick outing, doughnut run, nothing too big. Yunjin, you still coming?” 

“Can’t.” Yunjin yawns. “Tired and plus I had a movie date planned with this one,” she says with a head bob towards you. 

“Ew- gross,” Kazuha mutters. You look at her dumbfounded while Yunjin smirks. “Whatever, enjoy your impromptu movie date.” 

“Prayers up for the dick that’s about to cross paths with you,” you remark over your shoulder. “Whoever’s the lucky one to bend you over tonight, I’ll drink to that too.” 

Kazuha smacks your head then walks away. “I’ll take that same fucking bottle when I come back and smash it over your head.” 

“Ouch.” Yunjin sighs, putting on her glasses and stretching. “I’ve been telling you it’s a lost cause for her.” 

“Hey. That’s her problem, not mine.” 

–

Kazuha’s problems, whether you like it or not, usually end up becoming yours. 

Not that it’s her fault or anything. The girl just spills out one word and it turns into a never ending ramble of sentences. 

Fifteen minutes have passed since dinner, for the ones who are curious - fifteen minutes of valuable time lost in Kazuha’s eyes because she can’t seem to get her life together when it comes to proper efficiency. You and Yunjin are bundled up on the couch, watching some dating series on netflix that’s been all the rage across social media. The cast upon preliminary assessment are all attractive - some with a stronger bias than others, but you deduced Yunjin’s opinion was much more important than what’s happening on screen. 

Self-insertion is a matter of conceptual perspective, is what she’s trying to tell you. 

“All I’m saying is-” she groans after your pitiful laugh, “we put ourselves in that scenario, and I guarantee the ratings would go up.” 

“Pretty high pedestal you’re putting me there,” you comment. 

Yunjin slaps your shoulder and gawks at you, playfully offended. “Oh please, if you didn’t take me to paradise, how else would you make your case compared to the other good looking guys?” 

“Don’t need to, since I’ve already got you.” 

She coos at the remark, laughing at you playing it off in the coolest way imaginable. It’s cringy, but who the fuck cares? The fact that she agrees with the statement only solidifies the pull you have on her. A win-win situation. 

“What about Kazuha?” Yunjin follows up shortly after. “I think she’d be a great fit there.” 

“If I were one of the guys on that show and she was one of the contestants, I’d try everything to date her in a heartbeat,” you tell her. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Really what?” Kazuha walks in a second after your reply, with a zip-up to her frame and peeping over to see what was on the screen. “I heard my name down the hallway.” 

“Oh nothing, Zu,” answers Yunjin, waving her hand to shoo her off. “We were just saying that you’d be a great addition to the dating show cast. I can’t lie, some of the guys in this are super hot.” 

“Ahem,” you cough. 

“Shut up,” Yunjin says. “You were literally just telling me that you’d date Kazuha if you had the chance.” 

“Never in a million years,” you hear Kazuha say, disgusted. “That can of worms stays shut for a reason.” 

“A fun topic to talk about,” you’re laughing out loud again, shaking your head. Kazuha squints her eyes and her lips are spread wide in annoyance. A common expression she does whenever she can’t comprehend the bullshit coming out of your mouth at times - for most occasions is all sarcasm and nothing more. “You may not like it, but who’s living with who here, hm?” 

“I’ll kick your ass again if I have to,” Kazuha chuckles - a tilt of her head to keep it subtle, but you know well she intends that. 

you say

“Can’t beat my ass if you haven’t gone out yet,” you retort, pursing your lips. Kazuha glances at the clock and realizes what time it was, cursing under her breath. She shoves a hand in her pocket and bolts for the door, throwing up a peace sign to you and Yunjin, letting you both know she’s finally on her way out. 

“Bye Zuha, have fun!” Yunjin yells in a light tone.

“Don’t burn the place down until I get back, but the noise complaints are fine,” Kazuha says, slotting herself through the door the next second, into the cold. 

–

“That girl with the dark blonde hair looks like Kazuha,” Yunjin tells you, pointing at the screen. She’s right. The one on the show appears to be at the right height, similar body build, not to mention the abs highlighted from her swimsuit. “I’m telling you, it’s a carbon copy.” 

It’s been a little over an hour since Kazuha left, maybe more - you haven’t been keeping track, really. The episodes and runtimes are starting to mesh together to the point where Yunjin’s starting to get other ideas with that mischievous hand of hers, working at your shorts. 

“She’s hella popular with the others - so you might be right, considering Kazuha’s the mix of an extroverted introvert,” you say, paying no attention to the slip of Yunjin’s hand into your boxers, fingers snaking the length. She can feel you getting hard. 

You’re on the same wavelength as Yunjin: hand trailing up her thigh, thumb and index pinching the waistband of her panties beneath the blanket before curling your fingers across the fabric, hearing a hitched breath. 

“There’s no way they don’t hook up while recording, right? Like- the fuckable scales are off the charts,” she assesses, squirming her hips to the fingers circling over her clothed clit. She cocks her head as you pull your lips inward, trying to see the transmitting message in her eyes. 

You press a little further in at the opening, feel the dampness spread across. Oh yeah, she’s soaking them. 

“We wouldn’t know, per se, since the whole point of inferno is all about exclusivity. Getting to know the person without any outside distractions, that kind of thing,” you conclude. You’re paying more attention to your hand than the show. 

“Them having sex on camera would be so normal,” Yunjin says, a word slips out but her mouth forms to something else when you slip a finger inside without a warning. “So normal.”

“You’d be right.” 

“Definitely,” she breathes and it’s heavy. This segment has been slowly building in the background; the part where few words are said and relied more on the action: Yunjin’s thumb presses down on the head of your cock and grips around it, languidly stroking; your breathing stops for a moment, bobbing the air down your throat, coming up with a proper response, ending with nothing. You can feel your lower body tense and relax with the ticks of the clock, an indicator for what’s about to happen if you keep this up. You don’t fight it - nor want to, since you’re both well aware that the teasing is a better way to eat up the time with your bodies rather than everything else. 

It’s only natural to do things like these. You’d always make time for being horny. 

Before you know it, your shorts are on the floor. The same could be said with her panties, tossed away to a corner in the room for you to ask yourself “well how the fuck did that get there?” later when the damage has been done. Her shirt’s being held up by her teeth and you’re taking all the sights of her upper half uncovered past her shirt. Nothing but porcelain skin and amber nipples waiting to be marked up and bitten. Your hips get put in place and your mouth is taken over by Yunjin’s, feeling the glide of her folds across your cock and the slickness of her cunt on your fingers, smearing her thigh. 

Her breath is warm, just like her face; mouth hung open when she settles her pussy on your shaft. She finds joy in the loose and unraveling expressions: all wide-eyed and nowhere else to go. Your head falls back once the grip registers in the nerves. 

All in the rise and fall of her hips. She’s gyrating them as a test like it’s a given - which it is. She loves it when you’re raring to go, dicking her hips down or fucking herself on your cock. It’s all the same. 

“Babe,” she whispers into your ear. The blanket uncovering your lower halves, barren skin now out to the open air. “I want it.” 

Fuck, she could meet you halfway with the wetness of her pussy and already be there. You hold her hips and waist steady and she begins to ride. 

–

Here is where the story - or rather, the ordeal - truly unravels. As Anakin Skywalker famously declares on the glowing screen before the darkened room: ‘This is where the fun begins.’

You’re woken up to the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand, blinded by the glare of the television, drowsy as fuck, and slightly sweating. You also don’t even bother looking at the time because your lock screen is basically a flashbang of your selfie with Yunjin even with the caller ID blurring it. It’s from an unknown number (it isn’t but you can barely see as it is) and even if you’re entertaining the idea of not answering it, you do anyway. 

“Hello?” Your voice graveled and deep, clearly tired. “Who is this?” 

“Oh, you’re Yunjin’s boyfriend, right?” The girl on the other end asks. Her voice is surprisingly masculine. You would’ve mistaken her for a guy in that case. The line goes quiet for a few seconds, afraid that she possibly called the wrong number. “You sound like Yunjin’s boyfriend. By the way, it’s Eunchae.” 

Crap, you remember that Kazuha was with her for tonight’s activities. Wondering what the hell happened this time for her to call instead of Sakura as the usual standby. 

“We have a situation here,” she continues, mouth ticked with a hint of annoyance. “Kazuha’s hammered and Sakura’s getting her business on with some guy out in the alleyway. Told me to call you if she didn’t come back in five minutes. And it’s been more than five minutes.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think it’d be that serious.” 

“The fuck were you expecting?” 

“I dunno- just a simple doughnut dine and dash? Neither of them told me about a party.” 

“That’s because the two of them tagged along with the guy they met there and it’s been downhill ever since. I wanna go home.” 

Can’t help but feel bad for Eunchae, since you were in her shoes before. 

“Mind hurrying it up a bit? I can hear Sakura’s moaning behind me and it’s looking like she won’t be going home tonight.” 

You scratch the back of your head, raking off the sleepiness before rubbing your eyes. “Alright, be there in a few. Where do you want to meet?” 

“I’ll send my location, my house isn’t far from here.” 

–

In a slight reiteration, you’ve become used to Kazuha’s antics. 

Kazuha brings in Sakura and her plus one late at night, you know how that goes; Kazuha can’t decide which top goes well with her loose pants for the grocery run; Kazuha procrastinates on some of the chores around the apartment and leaves you alone to pick up her slack. She smacks your ass for fun and runs away into her room - goes to show the years of friendship you have between you two. When you’re up late studying for midterms or finals, the noise cancelling headphones serve well to block out the sounds of Kazuha touching herself -or, the fact that you’re putting her pile of laundry on her bed and it’s riddled with the assortment of playboy magazines, dirty clothes, and the vibrator (which you don’t question) next to it. She’s an agent of chaos. A perfect anthesis to your very livelihood. 

It’s certainly no exception when you mentally add alcohol into the mix. 

“Do I want to know how she ended up like this?” You ask Eunchae upon arriving, kneeling down to a slumped Kazuha against the brickwall on the sidewalk - hand to the back of her head to get a better look of her drunk gaze: one eye open and giggling like an idiot, her words slurring. 

“She literally grabbed the first beer handed to her when we got here,” Eunchae replies, showing you a picture of the moments before disaster. “I thought she was a heavy weight.” 

“Depends on what they were passing out in that party.” You move Kazuha’s head around to ensure nothing happened to her. So far: face blushed with pink, a lazy eye, messy hair and sweaty skin. But most importantly: no marks. “Did Saki tell you to stick with her while at the party?” 

“Yes, she did.” 

“Well that’s the good news,” you’re saying to yourself. Kazuha might be a pain in your ass, but she is your longtime friend, after all. Like anyone else, you’d go the extra mile to keep an eye out for her. 

You then glance back at Eunchae, her shadow casted by the glare of the overhanging streetlight, arms crossed with the light tap of her foot. Her thumb subconsciously swipes the phone screen as you both look at Kazuha when she snorts, playfully hitting your arm. 

“She’ll be fine,” you softly say, hoisting Kazuha’s arms over your shoulders and adjusting her on your back. “Given the fact that Sakura’s getting her fuck-fix for the weekend, I’ll leave that be.” 

“Mhm, girl’s a piece of work,” Eunchae concurs, lashes fluttering in the dim lighting, air to the left side of her cheek. “And here I thought we were getting our box and heading back home but-” she then motions a hand to Kazuha murmuring behind you. “-this shit unfolded and, yeah.” 

“The regular stuff,” you admit, because it really is. You twitch your head the opposite way from the house party. “My car’s this way, I’ll drop you off on the way back.” 

–

(Dealing with a drunk Kazuha in the car was simple math: 

Make sure she’s comfy, for one. Recline the seat all the way back since her feet will most likely end up on the dashboard for another. And almost beating every red light at the intersections so that she doesn’t get cranky with all the stops and turns for the third note. 

A long list and every contingency written in the book: you know her that well.) 

–

3:00 in the morning is usually classified as ‘primetime hours’ for Kazuha. 

Except for tonight. 

You’re running through the standard procedure: get out the car, walk up the stairs, hook a right, second door past the balcony. 

Left shoulder, right shoulder, right foot up, then left; fix Kazuha’s weight on your backside so you don’t throw your back out early, lean a little too forward she’ll fall right off, look back when she’s secure. 

For a girl like her to be 5’7” and 105 pounds, it doesn’t add everything up in your head. She’s humming a song - the lyrics incoherent, tone consistent - then all of a sudden she yelps in surprise. Keep her quiet - a fifth noise complaint from the neighbors in the span of three days was not on the agenda for this week. 

She smacks your head, half awake. “Hey, how did I get home? Put me down.” Kazuha pushes herself off, landing on her feet with a stumble, prompting you to hover your hand to her waist so that she doesn’t lose balance. It’s 3 in the fucking morning and Kazuha’s drunk out of her goddamn mind. “Wait, when did you get here?” 

“I drove us,” you tell her, moving her arm over your shoulder and walking her towards the door. “Looks like you had fun tonight.” 

“I did,” Kazuha hiccups, blinking slowly. “Super fun time.” Her gaze freezes. You can’t tell if she’s grumpy or plain tired (trick question: it’s the second answer); she then closes her eyes with that neat, flat eye smile of hers to where you see the slightest dimple on her face. You could imagine the stars shimmering over her head. Kazuha has so many spirit animals that you could pair her up with, but if you had to choose one- 

“Ehe-” she giggles, staggering her right foot before readjusting her balance, doing the same laugh again. 

(She would definitely be a samoyed.)

So you stifle a laugh and close your mouth, opening the door. 

You’re leading the way back into the apartment while Kazuha tries to walk on her own. She fails. Her forearm bracing the doorway while you shift your body back around out of concern. Her body lurches forward like she just went twelve rounds in a boxing ring, fatigued. She straightens herself up with a hand on top of her head, chin tilted higher when she leans forward, about to fall. Like any other caring friend would do in this situation: you catch her. 

“Easy, easy.” You hold yourself steady, accepting the weight. Or- when you’re stumbling too and shuffle your feet for proper placement. “You said you didn’t drink that much, tell me the truth.” 

Kazuha hums, mindlessly bobbing her head in the form of a yes. 

Her gaze is sleepy. Both of your hands are at her shoulders, keeping her upright. Kazuha’s zip-up slips off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, covering the tubetop she was wearing with a set of underwear you haven’t seen before. Probably new, you assume. “Kazuha, stand up straight for me, please?” 

“Mmkay,” she slurs. 

“Think you can walk back to your room by yourself?” 

“Nope.” Kazuha beams with her head to the left. 

You sigh. Pat the side of her face to wake her up a bit. “Guess you can’t be helped.” A hand’s extended like a peace offering. “C’mere, I’ll take you there right now.” 

“If you take good care, I’ll let you fuck me.” 

Oh, hell no- 

You weren’t prepared for this kind of Kazuha at all. There was no plan. Not even a proper response in your head could cover for it. 

Kazuha being drunk was always the marker for attention. Put her with the right people (like Sakura, Chaewon, even fucking Yunjin), and it’s guaranteed to be a never ending stream of laughs throughout the day and into the night. Not one second goes by when you’re out with friends to look over the shoulder and see the most questionable acts coming from her that twists the creases across your face and forces you to bear no mind to what’s happening behind you; stay focused now, ask questions later. When you do bring up the topic, it gets brushed over and eventually ignored. You have so many ‘why’s’ as it is, but you find it best to save it for the morning. 

“Kazuha, you’re clapped. There’s no way you just asked me to-” 

“But I’ll be good for you. C’mon, don’t you think I should repay you in some way?” 

“You getting sleep right now will be good for me. Now let’s go, I’m tired as it is-” 

Her arms wrap around your shoulder and middle lazily. You can’t afford to handle another minute of this nonsense and just get your ass back to bed. That alone should be a right in itself, but this girl won’t fucking let go. 

Next thing you know, her lips graze the bottom of your neck before resting on your collarbone. Your name is heard into your shirt, and you huff in annoyance. Plus, your voices could be a little louder than usual since Yunjin’s a heavy sleeper. At this point, you’ve had enough: so you slip your fingers into Kazuha’s hair and yank her head back to see her face wince at the sudden pain. There’s no shame when you see her biting her lip, half-lidded eyes gazing with no care of the lust behind them. “Just help me to my room, I promise not to give you trouble. I owe you. Need to thank,” she mumbles, licking her lips. “I’ll be a good girl.” 

“Christ- Kazuha, we’re not doing this.” But talking to her while she’s intoxicated isn’t going to do you any good. 

Now you carry on, dragging her closer to the room, ignoring the assault of mindless kisses she’s placing all over your neck. She ups the ante when her hand palms your sweats, trying to play it off in standing upright. 

“Jesus- Kazuha,” you angrily swear, similar to all the times she pissed you off.

“What? You don’t like that?” Kazuha asks, lips parted when she rests her fingers at your crotch. 

“Fucks sake, no.” 

“Aw come onnnn,’ she whines, trilling the last bit of the words. “Yunjin always has her fun, why can’t I?” 

“Because I said no.” 

“You won’t even let me suck you off? What if I just wanna stay here and sit so I can do that?” 

You can’t stand her being like this. 

“I always hear you and Yunjin getting it on in your room.” She leans on the wall next to the open door, curling her hand around your arm while the other doesn’t move. “How would it feel if I called you daddy again for once?” 

The scrunch in your nose shuts down the thought immediately. You’re sensible enough to not entertain the idea, despite how tempting it is. No. You know better. You know damn well what that shit does to you even if it slapped you in the face. No one casually spills the word ‘daddy’ like it’s nothing and expect no reaction. Her mind’s swimming in alcohol. You’re starting to wonder what the hell she drank at that party. 

“Again- God. Zuha.” You flicker your eyes into the void of the hallway. The nickname only comes up at times where she’s really getting on your nerves. “For the last time, you are getting your ass to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” Kazuha winces at the sharp tone, realizing she’s overstepped her bounds. Bless the last bits of common sense she has left; you don’t know where you’d be if she didn’t use her brain cells for something else that required her to think. 

“Ugh, fine,” she tells you, and the tamped down ego in your head is satisfied in victory, stepping into her room. You hold her at the arms and help slip out of her jacket, tossing it on her chair as she does her part in sitting on the bed, waiting for you to lie her down. “I was hoping that you could fuck me.” 

“In your dreams,” you rebut firmly. 

Right before you walk away, Kazuha grabs your wrist. A few wisps of her hair fall over her forehead. “Wait,” she says, and that should’ve been the red flag to swipe your hand away from the imposing threat - a dangerous risk you’re not willing to take. You clench your teeth and swallow hard, with the slightest bit of pull in your arm. “At least-” 

You actually don’t move forward, but backward. 

“At least touch me, just this once.” Before you know what she’s doing, it’s already too late. Her hand guides yours to her thigh, working the curve of your thumb and index up her waist. Part of you is impressed at the amount of work she put in maintaining a chiseled frame, the muscle very much present the more your fingers press down on the skin. “For a little bit.” 

(Should’ve left the room when you had the chance.) 

Your eyes continue to gaze and drift all over Kazuha’s body, hand to her chest with the thumb curling below her breast. Her humming rumbles low, safe. It hadn’t been that long since she was out in the cold, but she’s surprisingly warm. 

She makes sure every single part of your hand feels it, flipping it over to the knuckles past her hips, fingertips making contact to the patterned lace of her panties - the fabric clearly damp when she starts to shift her hips at your touch. It’s all gone wrong - a mess, one really fucked up mess - her lower half continues to move with both of her legs pressing your hand in, holding you tight at her sensitive clit, the huffs rising and falling along with her chest the more she used your fingers to get herself off. 

Drunk Kazuha was easy to deal with. Sleepy drunk Kazuha was a cakewalk in caring for. But never in your years of knowing her where she would be like this. Let alone the fact you’re in a relationship with her best friend and you’re staring further and further away from the door towards freedom. 

The reality check will be cashed in once it’s all over.  

You say her name, which spills out in a stutter; your state of mind incomprehensible to the stacked hands working the heat and slick between Kazuha’s legs, head unable to stay still and lolling side to side, elbows digging into the mattress. 

How does she not feel embarrassed with what she’s doing? Sarcasm applied: how are you not ashamed of this? 

It hits you right then and there: in the retracted hand of yours, eliciting another small tantrum of Kazuha kicking and waving her arms like a kid. You take a second to pause, remember how you got here in the first place and why, clouded with anger and confusion, hindering a sizable amount of time to reflect. Soon, you found it best to retreat from the situation and into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and wash your hands to calm yourself. 

(Even as your thumb grazes the glass in a period of contemplating, the whole ordeal can't be swallowed down that easily, as much as you want it to. Not when you’re achingly hard in your sweatpants and that serves a few more strings of curses out your mouth.) 

One last thing that you could do before heading back to your room was set the small bottle of aspirin at the side of her bed for when she wakes up. Maybe convince her to use that body pillow of hers to mimic the warmth; you nod your head at the thought, it could work and it should. It’s been a few minutes since her mini breakdown and you assume that she’d be asleep by now. 

You couldn’t wait until the morning to tease her about being a horny drunk - worry about being her personal punching bag later. 

Apparently the teasing would have to wait. Because your personal ideal about Kazuha was about to be shifted again. 

The last thing you would’ve expected was for her to be sound asleep. Instead, she’s got her tube top up to her upper chest, one delicate hand furiously rubbing sloppy circles into her clit, the other gripping into the mattress as she’s on her knees, body pillow between her legs, grinding into the cushions. Her pants are at the foot of the bed, panties loosely around her right ankle. She’s an insufferable cocktease. 

It’s something straight out of your wet dreams, from a time when everything revolved around Kazuha. You’re sucked into an inescapable vacuum of thoughts you’d never think of again (with things like those, it’s all a lie, they always are). You can’t stop peering through the crack in the door, opening it wider to watch Kazuha grab a handful of her tit and ride her own hand. She’s too into it to pay attention to you, and you’re fighting every urge in the fingers sliding down your thigh, unable to move. 

She only seemed to have one thing on her lips, the only thing plaguing her intoxicated mind. The tube top at her pits and the gush of her cunt soaking up the last pillowcase, but you’re seeing it clear as day. 

You can’t help but think how good your name sounds on her lips. 

Kazuha then gropes both of her tits, pinching both buds of her nipples to keep her from stopping, finally figuring out that she can continue without the support, falling back on the bed, unfolding her legs like butterfly wings to reveal how wet she was. The small webbing of her slick coating her index and middle fingers, leaving more spots on the bed sheets beneath her. 

There’s a deathly, fucked up part of you in the back of your mind: that wants to give in to the temptation. Oh, you could give Kazuha the same treatment as Yunjin when you have her in a blithering wreck, fucking her full as she creams on your cock, grab her by the hair and press her to the closest thing nearby to reatalite on the slightly abusive attitude. Get your tongue all over her cunt like it’s the last meal you’d ever have on your knees and have her cumming and hands full of every single part of her body until she’s had enough (which will most likely be never in this case). The need for more is an absolute certainty, a greater purpose. You'll consciously be happier in being rough, be a pain in her ass (quite literally, sooner than you think), and completely forget about the resistance or consequences.

You’re holding yourself back for now, placing the water and two tablets of aspirin on the dresser, lean your shoulder to the door frame - inhaling and exhaling quietly to not make her realize you were still in the room. 

She doesn’t stop her fingers from dipping inside her leaking slit, wagging it across her folds with every passing shudder of her breathing, sinking it back in soon two digits at a time. Debauched, impure, sinful; you could go through the list of your lexicon to describe this present moment and still won’t give an explanation as to why you can’t look away. You watch as her eyes wander, flickering when she looks down and plop her head back on the pillow when the finger curl rubs at a sensitive spot.

And it’s almost instinctual, close to second nature: your hand tugging your dick out, paying close attention to how the slenderness of her hand widely spreading her pussy folds. How Kazuha wished her own hand was a dildo or a vibrator or your cock - they won’t stretch in the way she imagines it. 

The third finger she inserted was a good try, you’ll give her that. You can’t help but be enamored. 

Suddenly, she’s switching out names. First, your name and then Yunjin’s. That’s a new piece of information you’ll save for later. Ignoring the question of how weird because this was already fucking insane as it is; you’re slowly pumping your shaft in time with her upward thrusts, grip your shaft to mimic the pressure and emulate how the skin would be coated in her soaking wetness, listening closely to the squelching getting louder and louder it seems. 

Kazuha’s legs are flush against the mattress, as far as she could get them. She’s flexible enough to do it, opening up more room for her other hand to get a fill of her desperate cunt. A sweet view. You’re lucky to have witnessed it in real time. 

Shit, you’re silently cursing to yourself. Wishing that you would’ve abstained in committing such a wicked act. 

But you keep pumping, delusion plaguing your mind. You’re lost in the sights, the sounds, her face wobbling to more rapturous, tucking her hand and tilting her hips like those other guys have done to her, the heat tugging them tightly - God, she doesn’t let up with the lovely moaning. 

“Mmm, yes, right there-” 

Seeing Kazuha like this feels undeserved. 

“Please, please-” 

“What is it. Kazuha? Want some help there?” You ask mindlessly, slipping out of your sweats some more to open up your legs. 

And when she says your name again: “I need you here with me.” 

“I’m not far,” you answer, gaze crestfallen and wistful. 

You lower your guard when the rush of euphoria begins to spread within. The sensation of jerking yourself had the capacity to wear you out just how you wanted. Because of this, when you eventually look back up, you can see the glint of watered eyes watch across from you - in between the valley of her breasts, toned legs and reddened knees. “Look at you, so handsome,” she says, hand circling her clit faster. Harder. Fingers increasing in pace to match your strokes rather than the other way around. 

“Fuck, you look so good-” you grunt with buckling knees. A familiar, aching tension in your stomach, the pin rising to the peak in your balls. The wonders of having a pretty best friend. 

“Yeah?” she murmurs. “Like this? My pussy out wide open for you? Why don’t you walk back here and plug it up?” 

“No need. You’re doing good, so fucking good. I’ll keep myself here- holy shit.” 

“Would feel-” Kazuha wheezes, a relieving proposition. “Even better, with you.” She says it like it’s some forbidden truth. 

In an alternate reality, she’d be right. 

“Think so?” Jesus fucking christ, you’ve lost it. In the current affair, this is all that mattered. “You’d prefer my dick to split your guts up instead of your fingers?” 

“God, yes.” 

“Want me to take care of that pretty little cunt of yours?” 

Kazuha sighs once more, confirming the question for you. It didn’t take much to work her up in general; if you didn’t have the remaining ounces of common sense, you could’ve dropped your pants right at the door and get even more dirty with the arousal pouring relentlessly out of her stuffed hole. It wouldn’t be a bad idea right? Cleaning up her mess with your hands, your mouth, gurgle down the endless stream of her pussy where there’d be multiple threads dripping down her legs. Fucking hell, you really could if you wanted to. 

Though you don’t move a single muscle besides your hand. 

“C’mon, more. Just a little more,” she groans, breath hitching every other second. You can feel the air get tighter, the vibrations in your throat tremoring along with every tense fiber of muscle. Coming down to a fine point, overtaking you. 

You’re just as shameless as her. 

The piercing wail of your name off her lips sounds broken, eyes clenched shut when you finally fall off that peak. You cum all over your fingers, spurting and smearing across the skin - fuck, it comes in a panic when some of it spills on the hardwood, but you could care less since it blends in well with the color. How you managed to remain standing from your high was a mystery, knees bending forward while the twitching continued to pass.

Kazuha tenses her body from the erratic movement of her chest, struggling to calm down from her orgasm. Through your sated, lidded eyes, you watch her frame relax, head falling over to the side, hand plopping over to the edge like someone shot a bullet through her on the spot. 

“Kazuha.” You huff, hoping for a response. “Kazuha?” 

Yep, she’s knocked out. 

You take a minute or two to return to your senses, looking back at Kazuha’s body to ensure she was fast asleep. Staring at the gentle shift of her arm cuddling the pillow she just rode on, you found it best to let her deal with the clean up later in the morning when she’s fully sobered up. 

A really big ‘if’ for later: her remembering everything she did from last night. You’re swearing that it doesn’t happen - hoping you don’t breathe a word of what you’ve seen or did. 

(It would be a huge problem on your hands, and an even worse one if it becomes hers.) 

Fuck, she would be mortified. 

–

“You look like shit,” Yunjin tells you later that morning, chin perched up and eyes squinted. “Didn’t you and Kazuha come back together 30 minutes later?” 

“Something like that,” you sigh, giving up the effort in holding back your yawn. “Slow mornings are always harder than the actual day.” 

“Hangovers are never kind.” 

You shrug. “Some of us can handle it better than others.” 

Right on cue, you and Yunjin glance over to see a tired Kazuha sitting alone on one of the chairs near the kitchen. Her hoodie is up and both hands are on her face to hide the subtle cough. She looks like she could sleep for another eight hours after breakfast, and it most definitely could happen. The plate in front of her is cleaned off: holding the knife and fork, coated with syrup and clearly ran through. 

Yunjin gives you a look, probably along the lines of: ‘are you sure nothing bad happened to her?’ 

You purse your lips and open the fridge, with a cold water bottle now in your hand. 

From then on it’s a silent exchange: Yunjin walking over to Kazuha and caressing the back of her head, Kazuha looking and nodding to let her know she’s alright before going on with the rest of her unproductive day. 

As for your part: you slide the bottle over to her with two more tablets of aspirin for her to take. For insurance, you insist. She’s someone you know very well who can’t function properly unless there’s some sort of responsible figure who can facilitate and keep an eye on her condition. 

It isn’t like her to be awfully quiet at times, so you fill in that role of the opposite as needed. 

“How’s your head?” You ask, voice lowered that you don’t scare the poor girl. “Gotta say, I’m jealous you got better sleep than me for once.” 

Kazuha leans back on the chair with her eyes trained on you. The occasional beep of the smoke detector above goes on for a few seconds when you see the tip of her tongue peek out and runs it along her teeth, contemplating. 

“Better,” she says. Her first words of the day. A small win. “Thank you.” 

You nod in approval, poking her forehead for some fun. “Great. No going out for you today. Not until you’re back to normal. You know the rules.” 

The gentle clatter of the silverware along the plate compliments the soft scuffle of your feet along the floor. You’re not thinking too much about what happened last night, drawing up the conclusions that it was a one-time thing. Anything beyond that reason would bring in plausible deniability. 

But you carry on with the simple house chore with Kazuha unknowingly staring from behind: biting her lip. 

–

Ironic about the unproductive day, you do everything but that. 

Emails, papers, evaluations, your endless editing of the resume, the Spoitfy window with the classical music playlist, all of it eats up the time. With the occasional step out to grab some food or a cup of water - or maybe Yunjin piggybacking you as an attempt to get you away from the desk- 

“I know you big baby,” you wheeze, feeling Yunjin’s nose against the nape of your neck, “Just let me finish one more thing and then we can do something. Promise.” 

“You said that last time,” she groans, corralling her arms tighter on your shoulders, toes barely touching the floor, “Maybe I should change the password to your desktop so you don’t go to it first thing in the morning. It’s a dangerous addiction.” 

“It’s called a routine,” you rebuke. 

“I know your password,” argues Yunjin. 

“Might have to change it again.” 

She gets off when you settle back in the office chair, her arms still wrapped and pressing her lips on to your cheek, making you giggle at the sudden assault of touches. To her defense, they’re pretty effective - her way of swaying you to lose your concentration. You don’t think twice when she forces you to put down the phone before lunch or dinner, or when you’re out with friends and she thinks it would be a great idea to send you nudes knowing very well that it’s not meant to be seen publicly. Her hair starts to pool over your front, smelling like apple rose and aloe. “So you’re saying it’s not ‘huhyun108’? Are you serious?” And she’s got you all figured out - the many angles of pressure points to slowly give in towards. Picking and choosing her battles carefully, but you don’t go down from a fight that easily. 

“Gonna change it now, actually,” you say, fast tapping on the keyboard. “Find it best for you not to look.” 

Yunjin cackles as you’re pushing her face away, pulling the chair along with you. 

–

Yunjin doesn’t have to do too much: all it takes is one breath and a few sly words and she gets what she wants. 

She’s adamant with what’s hers: lipstick mark on your neck? That’s Yunjin. Her white scrunchie on deck at your wrist for when she can’t deal with her hair? Also Yunjin - supplying to the demand was always her kind of thing. 

It’s midweek, at the point in the day where things get stagnant and there isn’t anything of interest to note, the usual grace period where the thought of doing nothing is considered the best option. Yunjin keeps watching that same netflix series, dissatisfied with how the current season played out. To compensate: she rewatches the second season for the sixth time and her key point was the fact the two most popular contestants really hit it off, but never got together. 

That wasn’t the main concern, however. 

“She hasn’t been out of her room since yesterday,” Yunjin pouts, long legs stacked on top of yours and restraining. “I’m getting a little worried.” 

“I saw her go to the kitchen and back earlier,” you inform, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “She did have that pilates session around lunch. You know Zuha, and her cardio.” 

“That door’s been shut a little too long,” she mumbles, not entirely ruling out your observation. “I know that there’s the unspoken rule for privacy, but I’m genuinely curious what the girl’s been up to. She seems a bit-” 

“Closed off?” You fill in, completing the train of thought. “You may be right with that.” 

“Mmm,” Yunjin agrees. 

“Wait it out some more, then we’ll see what happens.” 

–

(You wonder a bit too much, and get caught off guard as a consequence. 

You haven’t moved from the couch, with Yunjin fast asleep at your side. The position so comfortable, you could honestly pass out here and wake up eons later - a tempting idea to entertain, and a plausible action to consider. 

Kazuha appears from the hallway, rubbing the tiredness off from her three hour nap. A bit bizarre to nap past 8 PM, but that’s her thing. Her shirt is so baggy that it covers some of her thighs, toes spread on the floor before she continues to make headway to the fridge. Hair frizzled in messy waves and moving gently in every step. 

So you initiate first, “Hey,” and you layer that with a lean back of the head of the couch so she can see you better in the dim light. “Everything good?” 

Kazuha twists her body towards your voice, gaze stoic and quiet, fingers twisting the bottle cap open and fiddling it around. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Good to know,” and your words come casual. Unbothered. As if you heard enough to carry on and leave her be, aware that she’s able to interact again. “Happy to hear your voice, like alive- or something.” 

“You sound worried,” says Kazuha, cringing. “Ew, don’t do that. It’s weird.” 

She doesn’t know you can hear her snort from the couch. 

“But you are okay, right?” You ask again. Kazuha’s backside twisting once more to face you, blinking carefully. Her expression shifts to something more misty, unclear. All she gives is a nod and hum. Doesn’t say anything after. 

At least she tells you that much.)

–

Okay, it’s probably bad that you’re keeping an eye on Kazuha - reserving a spot in your head to revisit that night over and over. Maybe it means something, or it doesn’t. 

It really, really shouldn’t. Like at all. But the recurring thought fills your mind at some point between the passing days. 

“I’m heading out now.” Kazuha says to you sweeping through the kitchen, bag in hand and behind Yunjin. “Won’t be back until later probably.” 

“Where are you headed this time?” Yunjin leans over, resting her head. 

“Sakura called me to be her muse for her fashion portfolio. Said I fit the profile with the outfits she has in mind. Girl can crochet, but clothes? She has a really good fucking talent for them. I can see her go places.” 

“That’s our Saki,” Yunjin muses, hand up for Kazuha to acknowledge before making her way around the kitchen island, causing you to turn about face. She isn’t going to confront you about that (for God’s sake, you can’t stop thinking about it anyway), but rather stare you down because it’s the usual thing with her. 

It’s a little intimidating that she’s almost your height, with a body well maintained she could go twelve rounds if she wanted. Yunjin watches as Kazuha squints her eyes - works through the fridge for another cold bottle with her gaze trained on you. You and her exchange eyebrow expressions and read into the message through your eyes, Kazuha tilting her chin then breaking eye contact as you twist the other cheek. Next thing you know, her hand smacks your ass. 

“The fuck was that for?” You groan, clearly offended. “You’re the one who wanted the face-off.” 

“For being a dickhead,” Kazuha says with no color in her voice. “Also, thanks for saving me at the party while Sakura was getting railed outside. I owe you one.” 

“Amazing how you say things like that so casually,” you muse, cocking your head. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” 

Kazuha then flashes a look back with her hands now in the pocket of her hoodie. You can’t help but glance over to the defined frame of her face, the slope of her nose, her lack of makeup knowing very well that she’ll get a touch up from Sakura before the lookbook photoshoot. She’s painting a false picture with those baggy clothes she wears on a daily basis, but you and Yunjin are waiting to see the photos once they’re done. 

“Yunjin,” she says. 

“Hm?” Yunjin hums with food in her mouth. 

“Did I ever tell you about his decent looking face?” Kazuha concludes, tilting her head side to side for better angles. “Still a dickhead, though.” 

“Ha. Thanks.” 

She points her lips at you, a quirk of hers that she made as her habit. Her hand goes up in lieu of a goodbye and slides past the wall. 

–

“It’s hilarious because,” Yunjin catches herself mid snort, hand hiding her mouth, “The way they say Jurassic World is so funny to me. And the guy repeats it as ‘Jorassic Wurold’ like- the pronunciation is slightly off when he asks her about the movie.” 

You test the wording with your own mouth but emphasize on the syllables, trying to emulate what she observed from watching the other day. It distracts you from the assortment of ingredients spread out on the cutting table, falling into Yunjin’s shenanigans was always the daily driver no matter what the mood was on the hour. 

Midway through slicing some meats, you’re still practicing the wording on your lips. “Y’know, english is not everyone’s strong suit,” you tell her, portions set aside for some vegetables, leaning the other way to get a better view of your fingers, rolled up and not in the blade’s way, “gotta commend him keeping the conversation going. That takes effort.” 

Yunjin tilts the cup into her face, nodding in agreement; she’s got her legs crossed off the counter, feet pointed up when you glance back to see a hinted eyebrow. Bare face and long lashes fluttering - a light blush on her cheeks as she leans back and puts the bottom of the beverage upwards. 

She smacks her lips soon after, licking her teeth. “He was really into her, you saw it too.” 

The metal blade clacks against the wood. “Huh?” 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. You know who.” 

“Dex?” 

“Dex,” she repeats, pointing the empty cup in your direction. 

“I saw it happening, don’t worry,” you say, attention drawn back to the chopped up greens now being placed into a bowl. “Part of me was convinced that they would be together when they met from the get-go.” 

For a quick fill-in: it hasn’t been that long since Kazuha went out, a little over thirty to forty-five minutes at most. In that time, you and Yunjin managed to get through a third of a series she picked at random before she started to get more touchy with you. Like the good boyfriend you are - ready at every beck and call, you oblige. Yunjin swung both of her legs onto the seat of the couch, easing into the slow graze of your hands on her thigh, hand cupping her hips and raising the arch in her back when she felt the hard press of your hips against hers. She hates it when it comes to the teasing, but she’s actually a hypocrite on the fact that she does it all the time when you have your legs spread either sitting or laying down; when your brains are fucked into oblivion while she’s on top, bouncing on your balls without a care in the world for damage control. But you broke her brain a little when you grinded into her clothed cunt for fifteen minutes until one of your guys’ stomachs grumbled which put everything on hold for now. 

(There’s always a red herring to be said. For this one in particular, you coined it as: “gotta have that fuel for later, especially if we’re going for more than two rounds.”) 

“Thought so too,” says Yunjin, projecting her own insights when she lets herself down from the polished marble, setting her bearings headway towards you, tending to the ingredients. 

A pot gets put on top of the stove behind you, along with the chopped veggies. “Didn’t he also say that it was a bit late for him to pursue her?” You ask, twisting the dial until the clicking sets the burner to life, gaze locked on Yunjin who stops an inch away. “Something about not being a reliability because of what she’s doing for her career?” 

“Somewhere along those lines, the gap wasn’t too bad either, five years if I recall,” Yunjin supplies, unsure. 

“She was a neuro major, Yunjin.” 

“So?” 

“Dex has his own thing going too, doesn't he?” 

“If you really think about it, I thought it could’ve worked between the two. Yes, he was into her. He was also very amazed with what she was doing with her life. Not to mention the fact that these two clicked the moment he entered the competition as the wild card compared to the other guys. Oh, and that bombshell reveal that she was attending Harvard? Literally gagged the hosts when it first happened. Don’t forget that she was attracted to him for a minute before nothing eventually came to be? I remember showing you the video of those two after the season aired and you can still see the chemistry in them. Some people say that it wouldn’t work out since the scenario is long-distance, but the mother approved of the guy for crying out loud-” You grin and shake your head. Yunjin’s left completely baffled because of it. “-okay, I’m still a firm believer that those two are endgame. That’s my point. I have evidence and a solid reason to back it up. Go ahead, try and test me.” 

“No, I hear you.” You reel her in for a hug while her hands are on her hips. “If it were me, I would’ve thought long and hard about making a big commitment like that.” 

Yunjin sighs, hands sliding up your back. “I know. I really liked their vibe together.” 

Your hands get full of her ass, beneath the fabric of her shirt, laying prints in the mix of skin and threads. Yunjin puts her arms around your neck loosely, stacked and hanging with the slightest pull from her elbows. It’s in the most innocent of pretense, the suggestion heavily implied without the use of words at all. She leans up while you tilt down, meeting in the middle for that overdue relapse of addiction: the lips. She sighs, teeth claiming your mouth as her own, pulling the lovely part of flesh that makes you want to hear those familiar octaves as her body crumbles from the greediness and weight of your touch. 

Every kiss feels like a swan song; the desire of never letting go, press your face deeper into hers, leave a mark on the refreshed canvas waiting to be painted in inspiration and curated for no one else in the world to see. You’re aware that she’s willing to incite change, create something new, get in the right mindset of a familiar avenue in your head where there’s nothing but desperation. It’s in how her fingers rake through your hair, weave down your waist, to your hips, close to the spot where she wants to bring you out the most. 

Think of it as her picking up where she left off on the couch. You could’ve done it right then and there, but you didn’t. 

“Should’ve thought long and hard about earlier, right?” Yunjin teases, half-drunk already with her slack lips. 

“There’s a reason why I set you on the counter in the first place,” you huff, pushing her body past the stove, pinning her against the drawer. “Because of this. I know you, Yunjin.” You then lift her back up to the spot where she started, height difference elevated by a mere few inches. The top of her forehead rests on yours. 

“Such a buzzkill,” she concedes, pouting her heart away like it doesn’t do anything to you. Arms holding you hostage as you try to break free from her grasp. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some kisses around here?” 

“Not a lot,” you offer. 

“Says the person who’s trying to get rid of me.” She doubles down, ankles to your backside and limits the movement. Her exhale is satirical, hoping you’ll dish out the punishment. 

“Your stomach thinks otherwise.” You declare. Pushing her legs apart and retreating. You look over to the kitchen for anything within reach, and settle for an apple. You further the distance between Yunjin to grab it, toss it over as she catches it effortlessly - bites down the fruit in defeat, satiating the cravings. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

(She would much rather have your lips again or even your cock. The fire’s already started, and the water begins to boil.) 

The space feels so far between you two, yet so small. Yunjin holds the apple with her teeth, watches you round the corner of the counter - sees your eyes dart to an open box, the bundle of pasta in the plastic, a knife- something to divert your attention for the time being while you’re forming a strategy in your head - a game plan as to how you’ll deal with her tonight. 

You see: you think you know Yunjin, every part of her body and mind, inside and out. 

She debunks the theory right out of the gate. In a million ways you can’t wrap your head around.  

All she does is straighten her posture, spreads her legs across the glossy wood, and lifts up the fabric past her hips. 

There’s nothing fucking underneath. Just sweet, smooth thighs and her pretty pink glistening  pussy lips. 

It gets your mind racing in confusion: 

“Since when did you-” you’re taken aback, torn from being half-shocked and not-so surprised, also doubling down on the fact she definitely had panties on beneath that shirt. “Didn’t you have something there just a few minutes ago?” 

Yunjin is a master of her art, the trickery in the highest rank imaginable. You envy her intellect at times - her charms, the ways that she can make you speechless just by being herself. This very girl within the walls of your home she claimed as hers, who managed to seep into the nooks of your brain, poisoning you from within until you can’t go for a second longer without wanting to see her gorgeous face, hear her voice; feel her pull you down back to earth while also sending you straight to heaven. None of it really makes sense with her, nor is supposed to. You could go through multiple lifetimes in the existence of the universe and she’ll still find a way to be in all of them. 

Though, she doesn’t give you any chance of solitude with your thoughts. She raises her right hand behind her back, middle and ring finger holding the nylon as her admission of guilt. 

It earns her a small shake of your head, disappointed and impressed in the same moment.  

“Sleight of hand, mister,” she tuts, victorious. Her thumb then grazes against the nylon before falling into its fated purgatory of the floor below. She catches you zoning out, doing two loud clicks of her tongue to keep your eyes on the prize. “My eyes are up here, by the way.” 

“Where did you think I was looking?” 

“Probably at something that matters.”

“And that is?” 

“Fuck if I know- oh wait, I do know. You’re just not doing anything about it.” 

“Want me to proclaim it out loud?” You inquire, sardonically - as if you were willing to play along with her little game of pragmatics, read into the lines of a script and catch the nuances of a hidden message past the sentences. “State the obvious since the naivety is starting to become unbearable for you?” 

“I never said that,” Yunjin rebukes. Hand sliding down to her legs - those dainty fingers having their own fun. 

And you begin your endeavor back to her. One graciously little step at a time. 

Your ears tick at the sudden hitch of breath, muffled by the apple blocking her mouth. It’s on purpose. God help her. She curls her fingertips at the first dip inside her cunt the more you glide over the floor. The weight of your feet becomes less heavier and lighter in every move. Yunjin’s head bumps the cabinet, hips tensing at the rush of her fingers sliding across her folds. She won’t fuck herself like this. No- she would prefer to have you deal the actual blows to her body when you’ve finally decided enough is enough. We’re getting there, don’t worry. Just. A little. Push. 

She finally lets the apple go from her mouth, off to where it’ll most likely be disregarded into the sink or the trash. You can’t stop the constant twitching your hands are doing; so while the pathway is clear, you take into account of the bubbling pot next to you, putting a lid on to make the gurgling much more muted, zero in on the vibrations rumbling in Yunjin’s throat, focus on the rise of her chest. 

Her head drops and to the side, the pull of fabric molding to her figure. Emphasizing on the curves of her waist, those mounds, the present appearance of her hard nipples. The implications clear as day in the form of a seductive summoning. 

But you start slowly: a hand to her knee, then the other. Anticipation is killing you both. 

Landfall.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sigh, looking down at the sight of Yunjin touching herself, thick air being expelled from your lungs, wiping your inner self clean before repurposing to acclimate the need of getting dirty again. 

Yunjin pulls a lazy grin, beautifully - and leans back while her hips slips forward. Her grip guides your wrists over her skin, shirt hiked up past her waist and into her hips by the second. “You don’t have to say or do if you want to.” She offers, but that’s the setup. “Just wisely biding your time.” 

Not much of it has changed, the way you willingly sink down to your knees. You’re romantic about it - deserves a smirk for the appreciation. You glance up to her toffee shaded eyes, fingers rotating to hook firm on the peak of her thighs, extend your arms up high like she’s some sacred treasure, proffering. “Darling,” and the singular word sets the rest of the testament into place, the burgeoning intention of her demise at your hands. You think back to a week ago: where she found herself in the familiar pecking order, back on the linoleum with her elbow as faulty support, splitting her open and feel her body go limp when you made her cum like she suggested. Your mouth freezes with a gasp when you look closely at her seeping slit, heart stopped as you examine in awe. “I’ll have all the time in the world,” you mumble - or what’s close, honestly - into the plush surface of her thighs, brush your lips down a familiar path you know very well. “But you, gotta slowly show me you deserve it.” 

Her breath hitches again, hesitating. Nerves seizing muscle right where they are. 

“At this rate we’ll be here all night,” she hums, eyes torn from gazing down and spacing out to something in the distance. “Not that I mind, of course, but-” she then nibbles on her lip at the feeling of yours on her legs, deluded and washed over with lust to forget about everything else, “dinner’s still on the cards, yes?” 

“Pick up that apple. You eat while I eat, how bout that?” You propose the solution. One which Yunjin can’t ignore. 

She reaches for the apple and stares into the yellow crater, taking another bite. Cheeks full of fruity bits. “I could get used to this,” her jaw trembling and breath spilling out in a shudder. “Wouldn’t you rather hear-” 

Her neck loosens at the swipe of your tongue over her folds, apple tossed off to the side one more likely never to be eaten again. She leaks out a little more slick for you to clean up, and it’s delightful. Yunjin fancies the idea of scooting her hips forward, thighs hanging out and barely her ass on the counter, providing you more space to work with when your arms hook around the swell of her ass and pull her closer, hand quick to the crease of her knee to put her heel on your collarbone and takes her fingers into your hair, spread one side of her folds and dip your tongue in some more, consuming the warmth down your throat and eat her out alive. 

“Honey,” you proclaim with an arch to your eyebrow, breathless, “You’re fucking leaking.” 

Yunjin pulls this devilish grin, yanks your head back a little further back for you to look up, face twisted with madness. Staring deep into your soul, insatiable. “Your turn to eat, baby.” 

Very few people can play your game, but Yunjin was a whirlwind full of surprises. Each one more shocking than the last. 

“What’s wrong? Speechless?” she asks, but doesn’t give you a second to respond when she reels your head back in. 

So you put your mouth back what’s rightfully yours: press your tongue into her aching cunt and save the words for later. 

You hear her wince, picturing the pained expression in the creased eyebrows, eyes closed shut, jaw hung low. She grinds your face deeper, much deeper to the point where she’s needy enough to feel the light graze of your teeth. 

You slide your fingers into her, unfazed when her knees close your head in, giving you no chance to breathe. Her pants increase in pace, falling apart just a few inches above you. The sounds are absolutely wonderful, blessing you with the harmonious repertoire of moaning spilling out of her mouth - lapping up the wetness at the curl of your finger, cleaning up the salty sweetness of her arousal, slick spread across skin and the sensitive response of her clawing hand into your hair. 

Yunjin’s hair starts to pool over the front of her face, the sight alone is a delight in itself. The ripped collar showing more of her pale shoulder, handfuls of the shirt now undone as her other hand joins the fray on your head, body clenching and relaxing - unsure on which choice is the right one. You and her both listen in to the soft licks and wet smacks of skin and folds, hear her giggle in relief until your nose brushes up against her clit, throbbing core given a quick second of grace before you dive back in and don’t spare a chance for her to breathe. She asked for this, and you expect her to handle it as best she can. Until she’s whimpering and desperate and begging to be more useful than just your mouth and hands. Till she has to say the very words herself in what she wants, while her frame trembles delicately. 

More, more. The boiling pot next to you starts to bubble past the cover, droplets of water hitting the grill and sizzling. You push your tongue in deeper, get the gloss over your lips, pull her folds apart wider and hit the same spot where it kills her over and over, notice the curl of her toes into your shirt, dig her heel deep into the threads. Yunjin bites down her teeth, hand to her breast and gripping tightly. The bubbles start to lift the lid, popping. 

“Can you - be - even more - god, holy fuck-” she spits, words stuttering as her hips slide out over the edge, prompting you to hold her high, drop your jaw even more, kiss and suck the untouched areas and spread her legs. She gasps. “Baby,” she laughs even louder, slapping her palm down on the countertop, “God, I can’t believe-” 

She rucks her hips upward, mimicking a thrust. Your head fades out the rest of the outside noise. 

“-you, of all people-” And a moan pierces your ears, the sound heavenly. Yunjin’s hand palms the back of your head as you start to alternate an up and down motion. Her high imminent, in the curl of your knuckle and lick of your tongue pushing her closer to that pedestal. You push and pull, let the grip of her fingers guide you to the spots where she needs it. Her way of life: the taste of her; warm and addicting. “Fuck, s-shit, there- there! Right there-” 

You open your mouth even more, drinking her mess until she has you drowning in it. Her swollen cunt’s quivering. You can’t help yourself but smile. 

“Need your mouth, your tongue- your- fuck-” 

You’re happily swimming. 

It’s even better when her chest is puffed up, back arched. At a loss for words and just straight up gone. You hold her down as she’s shaking and suck her pussy for your own benefit - devouring her relentlessly, voice broken to a shriek as her juices gush around your tongue and fingers, groaning lowly while you carry on licking the mix of plush-soaked skin, feel the lingering effects of her orgasm leave her body with a harsh pull of her clit on your lips. 

She’s trying everything to calm down, head lightly tapping the cabinet behind her. Clawed fingers releasing their grasp as you help yourself up, legs loosely wrapped around yours and posture reduced to a slouch. “Hate you, by the way. I hate you the way that you are.” She tells you, arms barely placed on your shoulders, slipping. “Why do you have to be so good at being a douche?” 

“Don’t follow your point,” you dart back with a sigh. Height restored and hands back to where they started: on her knees; you cock your head to the right, get a closer look at Yunjin’s messy hair, rumpled shirt, thighs glistening and pink- 

She smacks the side of your neck, earning a pitiful laugh. You’re aware that she loves these kinds of treatments: the kind of treatment where you want her to tenderly run her hand down your face, whisper in your ear of all the things she wants you to do, sliding deep into her cunt and let the heat consume you, wanting - you’ve got get a grip, seriously. She has your head spiraling and somehow you always come out on top of it; the usual bouts where the victor has already been decided. “One day, you’ll see what I mean.” 

“I have a hard time understanding you and Kazuha as it is,” mouth agape, bearing no mind to the act she’s trying to pull. Unpredictability was one of Yunjin’s strong suits and that was no surprise: peeling her shirt off over her shoulders and lifting the veil hiding the endless curves of her body - the slutty little waist, long thighs, her breasts- 

“Maybe I can help you with that,” she offers, lacking judgement. Her hand slips underneath your sweats, fingers taking hold of your cock, confirming her suspicions. Your mouths meet once again, sloppily, you giving leeway after eating out her cunt and in return she has you twitching. “Goodness me,” she mutters into the warmth of your mouth, tempted, rubbing that effect on you. “I bet you’re just dying to stick this inside of me already.” 

“Watch your mouth.” 

“Or what-” she grins lazily. 

You grasp the skin a little bit tightly as your other hand cups her cunt, the heel of your palm digging into her clit. 

“-fuck, that’s what you meant,” her voice diminishing with lidded eyes. 

You then quickly take into account the small funnel of air blowing from the cover; the whirr of the vent above coming to life. 

Yunjin scoots herself over the counter, sees you tug your cock out of pants, lip to teeth as it gently touches her skin. It’s all part of the pecking order, how things build up high to eventually fall - second nature, muscle memory, all the same. 

She’s got her arms and legs around you, inching her hips forward to speed up the process, hopeful in you wrecking her body as always: “You know, not talking isn’t gonna get you everywhere if you don’t do it,” she goes on, no care for your fidgeting hands rubbing up and down her thighs. 

“What the hell is this, a silent treatment?” she asks again, impatience starting to get to her. “C’mon, say something.” 

You serve her anything but that, slicking your fingers with her cum and tap the pads into her skin, gently feeling her sensitive clit to make her lose her train of thought. She’s incessant, but it’s rare for her to be less on the offensive in pressing you for once, so you’ll take full advantage of it. 

“What do you want me to say? I’ve already told you about my observations,” you answer, digits sliding in her cunt and the girl just nods. She’ll notice but still talk out of her ass, since she loves the thrill. Her accompanying grin along with the lip bite and wink sells the whole image, leans you in with the shirt wrapped around your neck, pulling. The small twinge of romance attached. 

The shirt then crumples on the floor when she lets go. 

“That I’m fucking leaking? You sucked me clean, I can barely feel my legs.” 

“Right,” you laugh, working her face some more until her hands go languid. 

Her look goes curt, dismissive. Lashes fluttering in every blink because that’s the second best thing she has in her bag of tricks, aware of the double-edgedness it ensues. She inhales sharply, quick, sudden, bracing the tip of your cock sliding across her folds. “How long has it been since you last fucked me? Yesterday? Two days ago? Finally having your fun since I sucked you off last time, hm?” 

“I don’t need to answer that,” you rebuke. “There’s no point to it.” Is the everlasting conclusion. 

She cocks her head to the left. Elbow holding her up in the best way she can, arching her back again, your cock in position at her awaiting entrance, cup your fingers into her hip. “Don’t blame me for killing you this time.” 

Her face steadies, frozen. Then: the lines of her face warble, mouth dropping. Cunt inviting your tip pressing in. 

“Like I ever would,” she scoffs, right hand to the back of your neck, clinging. “This is what I wanted, remember?” 

(The way that she’s spread, heel hooking to your knee, she’s stripped and defenseless against you. It’s the guilty pleasure you have as her pussy accommodates you, all wet and inviting that it won’t be a struggle to fit in one seamless push. Regardless: that part alone makes sense.) 

“Question is,” you murmur during the break of eye contact, staring lower at the view of your cock finally slips inside and see the quick contraction of her stomach - like she was ready to take a punch to the gut - glancing back up and watch her eyelids flutter at the feeling. “You can’t do anything in this situation, can you?” This girl just came in your mouth a few minutes ago but she’s takes you in with no problem: filling every inch of you in a beautifully fucked up missing piece that she’s constantly deprived of every time. You dig your fingers deep into the skin, stop halfway, then continue to wrench out every inch of her walls. 

“God,” Yunjin grits, breath seething in the gaps of her teeth, brows furrowed. “Go to- fuck-” 

She doesn’t even finish the sentence when you push further. Replaced with a moan instead; her cheeks and nose wrinkle, fingers balled up to a fist behind and her elbow shaking. Her head barely keeping herself together with the cabinet as a last support, failing terribly. 

You stop your movements because the lines on her face are forming toward a familiarity: nervous, dazed, hesitant. A quick twitch of your head negates all of those thoughts away and instead focuses on ramming your hips into her, the clash of skin rippling through you and her both. 

It’s the bravado that she carries, the playfulness, her shift of her sly words, withering and fading at the amount of you: she’s fighting every fiber of muscle to sputter out her needs, though the sweat and slick spread out over body make up in the defilement of her undoing. You can see through her bullshit, and all she sees is the glide of your shaft back into her pussy - the width of you stretching so effortlessly her body forms a jagged line along the frame, mewling and bucking forward. Your fingers hold her hips still, drag your cock along the tightness, fill her up until she says otherwise. 

“Makes no sense,” Yunjin huffs, gasping, head halfway in the gutter, trying to form a point. Her hands try to carry out her words, clinging, cock-full at the lean up, foreheads clashing. She whines into your skin, “Jesus- holy shit, dear fucking Christ-” 

You’ll swallow her words and understand her completely. 

Well- to say that her hot cunt is incredible would suffice so much. The more you push, the more the connection feels like it’s meant to be, in all the filth and the intimacy that’s thrown without thinking of the repercussions after. 

You’ll give your praises and thanks - how her pussy grips around your cock so snug and tight and perfect, sing it into the skin and walls around you, paint it over as many times you’d like. To have a girl like her: a muse, with the desire and hunger impossible to resist, make you sink deeper and deeper where it won’t feel suffocating. 

“Yeah?” you hear yourself say. Like you needed to explain yourself again. “Wouldn’t you know it.” 

The strokes. You’re fucking up into her so nicely, give her no chance to breathe, legs hooked around your thighs. She’s opening up her body to you - you’re marking your own territory: shower her face with kisses, suck the skin across her neck, slide your arms underneath her back and keep pounding at the one angle where the trembling reaches her throat, presses her tongue to the back row of her teeth. 

Christ, you really have no care; roughing her up on the kitchen counter right before dinner time. The fan above you two continues to whirr the smoke in the air where it masks the bundle of moans and curses spewing out of her lips. You could feel her fingers drag across your back, keeping herself close to you, fearful that you’ll stop like earlier and make her beg for more until she has her fix. 

“Baby, baby, holy fuck,” you follow her voice, brushed up against your ear, sift your eyes back onto her and watch her loose mouth. She swallows, grazing the crown of her head to yours. “This cock, I fucking love it. I fucking love it so much, I could die here with how you’re-” 

You shut her up, meet in the middle. Line up the beating of your heart to the move of your hips, lock your arms around her back; she’ll come crawling for that high again, blinded by the guarantee of you forcing her orgasm later. 

“Yunjin,” you grit. Nearing that inevitable crash-out. It’s a never ending cycle of madness. Her cunt is eating your cock alive, soaking your waist. You want it all. 

You want her to cum again: this time on your cock; you want to carry her in her arms, fuck your cock without her feet touching the ground; you want her to scream your name so loudly that it breaks the windows around the house. You’ll never have enough of the indescribable body and feeling that she has, ruining you over and over - not to mention her mouth - that too, is another dangerous addiction. 

A fair bout. The fight for who's bolder. Who can make the other person more vulgar by the second. 

These things have been decided right from the start. 

Yunjin muffles a whimper behind her lips, cock clogging up her cunt like she’s backing away, hiding. 

“Need it, need it so fucking much,” she hushes. “You- your cock. Can never get enough of my pretty little cunt - fuck I should just let you fuck me all day, all night, whenever you feel like it.” Her voice is rasped, the words alone sinister: “Warm you up when you least expect it, yeah? You’d like that, don’t you-” She yelps, nose scrunching when you bottom out and press your groin up against her clit, stomach contracting and relaxing as if she’d done five minutes of planking. 

So you drag out and thrust in - slam your hips into hers, holding the motion there, repeating it soon after. Her hand files up to the cabinet door above and shove your cock down to the hottest point, where the wobbles of her waist finally reach up to her tits. 

Because that’s really the only thing there is to it. Brain fucked out to mush with the marks and glistening sweat spread across, remnants of what the short period has passed. 

Like you can’t help yourself. It’s in the enamored looks, the pockets of air siphoned before it’s coughed out, in the blissful enjoyment of fucking your slick cock in and out. “Holy shit,” she’s saying, head toppled off and arm going limp. She saves the energy for other than talking - let the waves of pleasure sweep her body and have you project her thoughts out for her: delirious and maniacal. “I hear- yeah- Okay. Okay, you said it yourself.” 

Of course she agrees, and she knows. Whittled down to the fine rawness of it. What else is there left to say? 

She’s amazingly gorgeous and beautiful - a gift from God himself. You remind her every time like it’s the first. When her lips met the end of your cock months ago, blowing your world away, the stretch of her pussy swallowing you whole and the tension was undoubtedly abysmal. Another second passes a shared breath: Yunjin-god-fucking-dammit, and there’s a bunch of other shit that gets said, listless and nonsensical where the only thing left to do is let the blistering warmth and clashing tongues do all the work for the both of you. 

It’s normal: the way that she clings like she hasn’t seen you for days - leaning back with an arch and quite literally her feet off the ground. 

Every moan sounds punctuated lazily, whining and whimpering and in a pitch where she almost sounds scared. 

Still, she’s lost the plot: “Fuck me.” 

That’s where everything clicks, a flame extinguished and replaced for something new, something profound: her face clenches in the quick swap of pain to relief, when you’ve put your cock at a spot inside where she sobs; the pleasure so intense the both of you exhale in unison, almost like a ‘got you’ moment entirely. 

“Honey,” you say against her cheek, fingers planted in the divot of her lower back, spreading her so well the motion is absolutely seamless, a perfect fit and pace to ruin. “Look at you, so lovely; this fucking cunt feels amazing; oh my goodness.” Your words are making sense, barely, but it’s always on this path since you’ve met the girl; you just can’t help yourself. “I adore this pussy a little too much, don’t you think?” 

“So funny, ah-” she quips, a smile brandished across her lip, eyes rolling to the back of her head, holding on to the last bits of common sense left, knowing well there’s no point. “I’d let you, to be honest. A good deal: my pussy for your cock. Fair trade?” 

“Fuck yes,” is what slips out of your mouth, a truth to savor for eternity. “Want it all.” 

It goes both ways: she wants to peg complete bullshit to you, say her fantasies of how big of a slut she can actually be, fuck that snark out of her until she’s satisfied - but then you watch and listen to the more mundane things she does, and your head can’t comprehend it either. You want her, her mind, her body, the secrets that she keeps locked up in a box sunk in the bottom of a river; things that she doesn’t want anyone to find out about; where the dares of admission only comes once in a blue moon and she tries to pass it along in conversation. 

You could make an endless list as to what makes Yunjin a treasure to behold, to keep - proclaim it out loud like you haven’t done so already - a collapsing, beautiful madness, honestly. She’s holding you so close and you can’t afford to let go. That’s just how it is. All it takes is one look into her eyes and you never want to leave. 

“You’re amazing,” you say to her, breathless. 

Yunjin’s lashes flutter shut immediately after. As if you had to tell her again and again. 

Her hips stay still while yours continue to move, every aftershock sent through her body creates these ridges you’re proud of, ankles to the swell of your ass, clamping around your cock, grinding teeth with her voice croaking: “-good, so good, so fucking good, please, for the love of God-” 

Her upper lip arches the more she inhales, mouth hung open as the moans crumble on top of each other. Most have complained about the increase in occupancy, the hollers of a drinking game, midnight conversations about relationship mishaps and failures, bassline of a song that reverberates on the drywall and the occasional shouting battles that usually ended up stopping after a few minutes. Your neighbors do hear the constant pounding at some point during the day, annoyed and fed up like they didn’t want to have the fun themselves, each thrust bouncing her where her breasts jiggle on the upstrokes, palm full of them, the feel firm and heavy; and you look at her face again - where a certain crease of skin, above her brow, and you know that she’s going to lose it over your cock, how her limbs will surrender willingly, reduced to mush and cradling the fuck through her. 

Yunjin’s arm springs forward over your shoulder. You pull her up, sit upright, body bouncing with her ass well off the counter, the angle primed and ready where the shocks to her ass start to become a cushion, tits wobbling and hypnotic and bouncing; you keep- keep fucking her little hole with no regard for her life. 

It’s right where she wants you to be. 

You’ll lay your flowers later, if you’re even alive to tell the tale: how Yunjin is completely destroyed by your shaft. Her hair frazzled, eyes half open and head tilted towards shame and in the closest iteration of a cocksleeve it could get. She’s so fucked into oblivion where it’s worth having served the verdict. The last moments of light that you want to keep forever, stay as long as you can. 

When her lips meet yours, sweeping: a part of you starts to break beneath the cracks. 

She’s trying so hard to keep a hand to your waist, then the counter, but you’re holding with every bottom out at the base and you entertain the idea where you could go any deeper, fuck her harder- 

“Just-” she pleads, into your mouth, right on your tongue. “Yours. All yours. Fuck me like it’s the only thing that matters-” 

“Jen,” you groan out raggedly, lock your elbows to her chest, matching the drag of her nails. 

“Gonna cum so much,” is what you think she says. “Look at you, such a good boy.” Her pointer finger grazes the line of your jaw. “Plugging me full, I know you love it,” she dryly laughs, lightly pinching your hip when she hears the hint of a squelch of your cock sliding back in her, “this big, fucking cock,” and she’s really not helping you in this situation, claiming you as her own, soul snatched with no hope of returning it: “Pumping and pumping until I can’t get enough. Fuck. You’re so good at this, so fucking naughty. Got you all hard and needy for me - pounding my poor little pussy just to set me right,” this girl is fucking demonic, with the stuff that she’s telling you, her body right there in your hands; you haven’t been thinking straight since you’ve gone down on her - that cunt, her pussy lips gliding your cock with her slick soaking you endlessly- 

“Shut the fuck up,” is what you manage, a futile attempt to stop her. Like it would ever work at all. “Don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.” It’s impossible. You’re so easy to trick, gullible enough to fall for anything that comes out of her mouth, let her take the advantage and leave you with nothing at the end. She believes that you’ve had your fun, and the turn switches back to her. 

“Or what?” Yunjin smiles, nearing bliss. “Wanna cum on me? In me? Use your words, baby boy.” 

You swear, or something close to that. 

The rush becomes too much to bear, the thought of doing what she exactly wants: pulling your cock out of her tight cunt and paint your load all over her stomach, or- the more addicting idea of burying your dick inside her so deep that your release has a one way trip - you simply just- can’t. You shouldn’t. Not because to play it safe, but you’re safeguarding the responsibility of the filthiness that comes with it - what you could do - what you’ve done to her. Instead, you should throw her onto the floor, on her knees, shove your cock down her dirty mouth and cum in her throat or on her face, watch her clean up the mess you’ve made, press the thick tip of your cock on her plump lips and have her taste the sweetness of you. Have her drink it down until she has those doe brown eyes of hers looking up in acceptance. She’s beautiful: in the most fucked up, soaking, ginger-haired possible way imaginable. 

“Let- let me-” you sputter towards a growl, but you can’t keep up with her words and replace it with the pace - how her cunt fits your cock so well like a perfect shoe, lengthy frame detrimental to yours. “Fuck, just let me-” 

“Mhm,” she hums, unfazed. 

“Fuck this slutty little cunt of yours,” you finally manage, and more of a promise already written; you continue to fuck into her, snap your hips in where your balls start knocking above the pucker of her ass, working your cock along those velvety walls, feel the gush with every squeeze of muscle along her pussy, stretching amazingly with the clench. 

“Keep going.” She prods at your waist. 

Oh, she knows where this is going. It’s hot. It’s diabolical. It just feels right. You’re convinced that she’s figured you out, but playing dumb on purpose to see you admit it right in front of her. She sees the quick rise and fall of your chest - your shoulders, fingers grasping pale skin as it turns to something crimson, glance at the devilish smile she possesses that severs all the nerves in your brain: you are so fucking down bad for this woman, and you can’t do anything about it. 

“Keep-” 

“I know,” and you do. 

“Love this. Love you. Love everything that’s happening,” says Yunjin, praising. “Tell me all the things- the things you want to do to me.” 

“Sweetie,” you gasp at the next firm thrust, “gonna put my cock in your mouth, fuck your throat until you choke,” you snap, madness fully consmed, “fuck your holes full and then-” 

Then what? Have her ask to pound her ass? Ride you? Make her scream with the doors wide open? What more could you say or do that isn’t in the cauldron of pure insanity- 

“Use me more,” Yunjin sighs, and that’s the crystal clear thought pulled right out of your cock, “take me, grab wherever, I just need- god, your cum- want your cum so fucking much,” each word in that sentence rising an octave, “Cum,” a simple mantra, a demand. Yunjin’s creaming cunt, filling her up whole, you’re gonna burst inside and she’ll happily accept it as a gift, getting off on the sound ripping through your chest, hips bucking, legs tensing, her lower half quivers beneath you; attitude reduced to soft sounds, you taking full advantage with the fall-off imminent. 

Some of these things, you can’t afford to think; fucked up as it is, it’s better to revel in the silliness and disregard the common sense. 

“Oh fuck,” you hear her breathe, tone low and insanely turned on, her smile already showing she’s won. “Fuck yes-” 

But even if you’re splitting her insides apart, a small fraction of control rests within you, feeling the curves of her body ripple, in a slowing rhythm, pound her cunt for one more second and finally give her the reward. 

A rope of cum is all she gets on the inside; as for the rest- 

“Yes- wait no, fuck- what are you doing?” Yunjin sounds completely in shock for what you’ve committed, snuff the flame out from her pulsing cunt, slide yourself out of the tightness, hold her leg up since she’s too weak to resist. You’re going to hell, but so is she. Painting all over the flat plane of her stomach, coating her pale skin with your cum. “You fucking bitch- that doesn’t belong there,” but she’s too fucked out to do anything about it, and you don’t even bother to dish out a good comeback, let the actions do the talking for you: “Put it back, please, please,” and you do as she says. 

It’s a fresh feeling, the way her warmth envelops your soft cock, holding it so nicely as you help her sit back up properly. Mouth back on you instantaneously. 

“I’m gonna get back at you,” is what she says against your grazing lips, brushing her cheek along the tip of your nose. Her nails lightly scratch your back, ruffles into your hair. “If you’re up for it, you’ll follow.” 

“Challenging me? A bit crude, even for you,” you remark - she grins into your face, slides off the counter, fingers dancing along your slick, softening cock. 

A familiar look in her eyes. Telling you, yeah, I know - underlying the surface, but she’s got her entire hand in every crook of your brain, unfaltering: “We’ll see.” Then she says, “Get your ass on the sofa.” 

–

If there’s anything you learned about Yunjin: she never backs down from her word. 

Oh- and your mouth’s formed in the way she wants it to be. You’ve got it all wrong there, too. 

She tells you to keep your hands on the seat, at the sides and on the ready; impulsively, you want to pick up right where you left off from the kitchen, eyes locked between your legs, her head graciously bobbing up and down, vibrations all over the sensitive surface - feeling the pinching cramp in your backside, tensing the muscle, swallowing the opposite end of you with ease. 

Her lips stop halfway when you raise your hand a bit too high for her liking. 

“Fuck me, Yunjin,” you mutter, watching her sink your cock into her throat. “Don’t do that.” 

Yunjin flashes a glare, flutters her eyelids shut, drags her head back up and gasps. Her mouth is one thing. Her hands? They show you no mercy. You’ve been in this scenario before - a lot of times for some quick context, so tonight isn’t any different. She’s working you tightly at your balls and the base, intending to wring you clean of the release you should’ve left inside her. The one-two punch killer enough to leave you paralyzed from the waist down; she runs her mouth on the tip, tongue tracing a vein and the underside, curling her fingers and stroking so delicately- 

Yeah. You’re pretty much fucked like this. It’s a losing situation. 

Your head falls back while your hips slide forward, turning your body over to her mouth which earns a moan in response. The look on her face is deadly, and the sounds ripping through your chest implicates your high not far to reach. Those fucking plump lips: well parted and sliding all over her spit, moving back up and sinking again, the suction a bit more forceful the second time around, cheeks puffing and hollowing, blinking dutifully. 

She knows how badly you want to fuck her face, shove your cock into her mouth and expect a reward in return. Yunjin knows you want to get there, eventually, pulling herself off and twists your shaft, sees the tilt of your chin to the ceiling, relishing the submission. 

“So fucking hard,” she grins, examining the mix of her spit and slick all over you, listening to the wet noises she created. “I can’t wait to taste your cum again.” 

She’s too good for your own sake, and you can’t fight back on it. 

“Be a good little toy and relax,” Yunjin instructs gently. Puckering her lips and slapping your sensitive head all over them. Soft. Lucious. Sinful. Her innocent blinks fail to cover it, nor the fact how pretty she looks with a pensive expression: it’s evil. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

You nod right away and she dives back down. Her tongue rubs around the tip between her lips, flattening to slide you into the softness and sleek feeling of her throat, bathing you with spit when your hips produce the slightest hitch. She’s had enough practice with you - to know how her tongue moves in all the ways she knows you love, easily bottoming the whole length like she has before, determined to hear you groan in rapture, and you do. 

“Christ, Yunjin- baby-” you grit, and your head falls back to the head of the couch. 

When she sucks, you flex your ankles forward. The mess worsens before it gets better, streams of drool leaking over your cock. She spreads it around with her mouth, her fingers, palm flattening, her lips fully sealed at the root, her nose digging into your waist. You’re amazed and how well she takes you, holding her head down for a few seconds - that’s the personal trial she set for herself: how long she could keep you there, the flex in her neck, gurgling and choking. It’s also dangerous in the fast switch up from the clamp of her throat to the alternating pace of her flushing your cock in and out, deepthroating you to the point where she can feel your whole body twitch. A pressure point, cutting the line until it’s completely severed. 

You’re sucking so much air into your lungs, creating a pocket at your waist. She pops her mouth off the tip and has the audacity to cackle in your face. 

She’s testing the endurance to it’s limit, her slick hands wrapped well around your shaft when she tends to your balls, getting mouthful of each one and peppering them with licks and kisses, hair pooling over your waist and to your thighs, knowing how good she as at fucking breaking you. There’s no denying that your girlfriend is an irresistible cockslut and personal toy, since the part goes both ways when it’s the right occurrence. Once she’s through the few moments of breathing, her jaw slacks and takes you back in, hearing you huff at the subtle graze of her teeth. 

The moan sputters out on impulse as you get careless and place your hand to Yunjin’s cheek, rubbing a thumb below her eye, and you could see the tick at the corner of her mouth break into a smile. She lifts her head up, giggles at the shudder of your thighs when her teeth taps your cockhead. “Aw, are you worked up already?” 

“More or less,” you answer, and it’s a sudden moment of grace, a blessing in disguise, mind telling the rest of your body to calm down as she slowly jerks you off. “You know me, I wouldn’t back down on your escapades,” and you moan again when she speeds up the pace, “Seriously, it’ll be on you if I cum like this.” 

She kisses your cock and licks. This girl can’t be helped. “What a shame. Hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“We can do this all night if we have to, so why not?” 

Yunjin lets out a dry laugh. “We will, don’t worry,” she says, carefully pumping you and swipes her thumb over the slit, seeing the thread of precum bridged across, twisting at the middle. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had a conversation while I gave you head.” 

“What’s on your mind this time?” you inquire, playing into the deliberation, “Probably something intriguing, I assume.” 

Yunjin blinks, locks her finger and thumb around the base of your shaft. “You think Kazuha’s fucked a cock like this?” 

You stare, pondering, it takes a second longer for the question to set in because it’s entirely out of left field. “You’re asking me out of all people? How the fuck would I know? She doesn’t bring those kinds of details up with me whenever we talk about it.” 

“But I can’t help but wonder,” Yunjin tuts, hand carelessly sliding around you, nicking her head back. “Have you ever fantasized about your best friend?” 

“Yunjin, that’s just weird. Fuck no-” 

“Aw, you can be honest with me. You and I don’t keep secrets with her as it is, no need to hide.” 

She then tips her head, flickers her eyes up at the heavy sigh your mouth makes when her lips make contact with your cock. Her smile goes even wider, noticing the twitch at your eyebrow, how you’re clenching your teeth and bring your chest up to your shoulders - where she’s managed to work you up with the finesse and enchantment that’s simply exuded from her. 

There’s nothing much for you to do except sitting back and let Yunjin take your whole length into her mouth. No notes or objections for her to hear, but the sticky wet sounds slathering your shaft and your body moments away from finally giving the reward she rightfully deserves. 

“Pretty fucked up sense,” you’re mumbling your head off, moving wisps of her hair out of her face, thinking less and less as she stuffs her throat of you, keeling and leaning forward to where you’re lifting your ass off the couch. “Shit-” 

This is her version of a truth serum, a polygraph; her mouth and hands working beautifully in tandem, her collarbone vanishing into her neck, guiding you to the well-wrapped grip she has with her fingers, fucking you with panache in the hot curves of her throat. 

She loves it when you’re like this: bending to her will and getting you off with the tightest fist. Wringing you clean now that you’ve done the hard work. 

Her hand cups your balls, nails scratching the ridges. The pace she keeps is relentless, alternating from base to tip so excruciatingly well, twisting and jerking and fucking- 

“Mmph?” 

“You’d be surprised if I said yes.” 

Yunjin slides her mouth off once more, spits the underside, lapping up the slick. “No fucking way. You’ve thought about it before?” 

“Predates you, if you want me to be more specific.” 

She flashes the same wicked grin you’ve seen before, tongue tracing a path at the root. Pursing her lips when she inhales, taking in the scent. Legitimately, fuck her. Lashes fluttering heavy with the eyelids, pupils dilating and too faded for you to notice. “If it makes you feel better, I came to that conclusion a while back, just didn’t say anything.” 

“Were you sparing me?” 

Yunjin ticks her lips, still smiling, taking pride at the concurrence. “It is also hot for you to finally confess about her.” Her hand plants firmly at your thigh and you consciously thrust your hips back in, gasping in beautiful bliss. She swallows you back up again, clenching her throat and sealing where you’re blinking a lot more faster this time. That rose colored mouth humming along the skin with every puff of her cheeks, flushing it perfectly like it’s practiced. Her back arches and bends, unfazed with the constant shake of your right leg, all the motions culminating in your muscles and hers, rising and rising- 

“Yeah, okay, alright, I’m- holy shit-” 

“Mmmphphm-” 

Your composure snaps, hand now to her head, a death grip in her hair, fucking her face ruthlessly, drunk at the feeling of her mouth and the obscene gawking noises and the bob of her throat curling your cock, lips smaking and drooling more that you regret not putting a towel on the hardwood floor beneath you two. 

It’s incredibly difficult to internalize, let alone imagine the wish you could capture this feeling for eternity, bring it out from a bottle at the shortest convenience. Yunjin doesn’t falter with the moaning, friction slippery and neurons overloaded, delusion finally high and head still to you - plugging her hot mouth full of your cock, sliding in the smooth muscle, throbbing. 

She takes another deep breath, earning a palm to her face, gaze wistful and deep into your soul. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” 

Damn right you are. 

Yunjin doesn’t need to clarify what she said, since she already knew. Instead, the flicks of her wrist are astonishingly meticulous, amazed that you’re rock solid not just because of her, but rather the thought of Kazuha doing the same thing to you, given with the experience. 

“I think you’re ready,” she declares, and the sentence alone is loaded with different interpretations. 

She doesn’t savor the moment of grace soon after, siphons the breath out of you when she puts her lips back on your cock. Your mind’s no longer there, thinking: Yunjin, Kazuha - the pair doing numerous things to you all at once. Trading your cock between their hot mouths, hands stacked along your shaft, pressing into their slick cunts and watch them keen of being split apart. Yunjin’s sloppy mouth fucking you brings it back to reality, slit leaking and ready to burst. She licks once, twice, thrice, lips wrapped around your cockhead and hand twisting the shaft, aiming in one direction where the load should go. 

Your thighs tense, breathing ragged, shoulders back and chest out when her eyes go wide - shocked at the first thread of cum caught in the roof of her mouth. A pillow falls off from the couch as you’re fighting the urge to push her face away from your hips and that’s when it get worse. 

It hadn’t been that long since you last came, but the surprise was a welcome one when more shots of white start spilling over your stomach, her hands, her face, on her button nose, your shaft twitching in her hands when she hovers her mouth over your tip and seals it to safeguard remnants of the damage. 

“Yunjin, fuck- oh, fuck-” 

“Mmm,” she hums gleefully, licking the mess off of you and squinting at the leaking slit, pulsing out more. Your cock softening again and body in a complete mess, fingertips carefully moving on your belly and brain falling in and out of consciousness. “Oh my god. You came so fucking much.” 

She nuzzles her face into your side, observing your chest calming down: “didn’t think I had more in me.” And that’s pretty ironic coming from you. “Congrats, babe. Consider me dead.” 

“There’s more where that came from,” replies Yunjin, orange hair swirling over your shoulder. “We’re even now.” 

Doesn’t get any better than that, really. The score stands at one-to-one. 

–

“By the way,” Yunjin starts off again, spent and roughed up on the mattress after going back to back rounds a little less than thirty minutes later. First in the shower and the second on the bed; a restoration to the pecking order, actually on the same page. “She drunkenly confessed to me about it while you were gone one night. Poor girl can’t keep a secret. I felt bad.” 

“Her loss, honestly. Sucks to be her for having the issue.” 

“You don’t think it’s a problem.” 

“Well that depends on your solution.” 

“Well,” says Yunjin, expectant. “I was gonna propose-” 

(You can kind of see where this is going.) 

“-maybe the both of us could- y’know, deal with her as we see fit.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Emulate a porn plot towards her, the typical one where the girlfriend shares with her best friend.” 

You plop on the mattress, tilting your head. 

“Like a collaborative effort?” You’re then asking; the thought not too far-fetched, but still brazenly out of her mind. Even for Yunjin’s standards. “What’s worse is the idea of you sharing me? With Zuha? I swear you were possessive about me, where did that go?” 

Yunjin bends her leg up against yours, brushing a thigh before her knee nestles at your waist. Nothing but smooth, soft skin just there for you to touch, to feel, and just- right on your lap. 

“Consider us sharing. Communal, I guess.” Her brain’s working next to you, then it hits. “A communal cock for the both of us.” She snorts, bursts out laughing once she’s created the twisted hypothesis. “Our cock. Kazuha and I. Please, tell me you’re loving the idea.” 

“I don’t hate it,” you’re stating, hand slipping lower to the swell of her ass. There you go again: thinking about Kazuha and Yunjin together. It’s supposed to be a silly theory. 

“So, will you help me? Unless there’s something I don’t know about.” 

“I’m not really in a position to say no, but I’ll let you do your thing.” 

“Take that as a yes, then,” Yunjin rests a cheek along your chest, prompting you to move your other arm around and fully embrace her, paying no attention to her kneecap pressing up against your balls, “you wouldn’t want to hear my plan to get our girl set up for what’s coming?” 

“You can brief me sometime later.” Another thing added to the agenda, with the rest of the responsibilities filling up your notifications and inbox. “Unless you want to surprise me.” 

Yunjin squints her eyes, purses her lips at you the next second; fingers dancing along your jaw, your throat. “If that’s what you want,” she concurs, retrieving your hand to her hip. “One more for the night?” 

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk the next morning.” 

And so she gets herself off like that. Your cock in Yunjin’s hand and pressed up against the skin, feel the rush of her pussy lips coating you in slick. Her fingers too dainty and delicate, precise at the touch. You’re alternating from slipping inside her hot cunt - eventually stuck between her impossibly tight thighs crushing the shaft. 

Your throat and hers rumble low, locking legs and letting the hinged hips do their own thing, listening to each other’s nuances of groans and curses and names traded until the overdue exhaustion following the pleasure washes over you two. Yunjin’s face is dazed, relaxed and satisfied with the spill between her legs, her whole body wrapping around you; conserving the heat in any way she can - even if it means to sink your cock back into your cunt. 

You’re hoping the next wet dream you have turns into reality. 

–

A quick look into the inner lens of manifests and proclamations: most of the intents are put in a good light. Speak it into existence and great things will soon come its way - that type of thing. 

When you want something - you’re holding your breath for what’s to happen. 

As for Yunjin, it’s quite the opposite: 

“Imagine all the ideas you could have if you just- let it happen?” She’s on your back and flipping pancakes, breath tickling your ear and putting her down becomes a favorable option than the latter. “Look at it this way, Party A can only take action if the conditions are met in agreement with Party B.” 

“Please allow me to ask, but who the fuck is Party B?” You swivel in place and swing Yunjin’s long legs around the kitchen, the wrap of her arms hooking deeper at your neck. 

“I’m not answering that,” Yunjin says, foot to your thigh and altering your attention to a low-ponytailed Kazuha sitting across, ready and raring to go for her run. 

Kazuha looks dumbfounded, lost, predictable. “What are you guys talking about a Party B?” 

“Huh?” you and Yunjin say in unison. 

“Huh?” Kazuha repeats the utterance. 

Then all three of you say: “What?” Queue the laugh track - somebody, please. 

“Enough of this,” you declare, setting Yunjin down so she can finish cooking the meal. You glance at the glowing screen of your phone, see a few new messages pop up, and a notification from one of the places you applied to. “Crap,” you then say, realizing what’s on the attachment, “It got moved up?! Gotta run.” 

“You too, hm?” Kazuha chides, with an eye smile and a slice of banana in her mouth. “Cute.” 

“Make sure you bring your lunch with you, honey!” Yunjin yells while you blitz back into the bedroom to get changed. “Can’t own the interviews on an empty stomach!” 

–

Various managers you keep in touch with praise your skills and determination, saying that you would be a good fit for the team. It’s a waiting game now; only a matter of time before someone steps forward, claims you as theirs. 

Some places you’re fielding calls from, shortening the list. You’re forwarding it back to home base: hit or miss for today’s adventures, thinking about taking either minnie’s offer or sian’s.

Yunjen 💟: i loooove sian! miss that girl so much (;-;)

Yunjen 💟: pls say yes to her next time, for me? 🥺

🍑: u forgot ur water bottle at home, idiot 🥸

You: great, now i gotta wash it because you touched it

🍑: you’re really bout it today, huh?

🍑: i’m gonna kick your ass when you get back 

You: please, whatever you throw, i’ll catch

Yunjen 💟: aw, i won’t be there to see you school her in mario kart again 😭😭😭

🍑: if i can beat your ass at racing, jennifer, i can def beat him 

🍑: u think too low of me. 

Yunjen 💟: you two play nice now, i’ll be back by dinnerrrr

Yunjen 💟: let me know how it goes 

–

Kazuha greets you at the door, sighing with disappointment, like she owns the place - that’s partly true: she pays for half the rent but always forgets until you remind her. 

“What’s with the look?” you ask flatly. 

“Nothing,” she shrugs, face tugged to a scowl. “Just thought that you’d be back in high spirits after landing the job.” 

“Results don’t come that fast,” you remark, following her in the apartment, feet scruffing and leggings skin tight around her figure. Hair clumped together after being tied for a long period. “They said that they’re gonna do one more week of evaluations and see from there.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I get the job, which means more money; if not, we keep looking.” 

Kazuha chuckles, settling herself on the couch with her legs curled, watches as you drop your things and join soon after. “Is this the part where I ask how your day was like old times?” 

“Zuha, I’m gonna walk right out that door if you do. Please don’t.” 

“Not even this once?” 

You stare at Kazuha’s delighted wink, rolling her eyes back and cringing. “Well shit, my day hasn’t been that interesting either, thanks for asking.” She says, palm sliding down her face with a sheepish smile. “Can’t even have drinks until Yunjin gets back.” 

“What’d you suggest we do for the meantime?” 

Kazuha grabs the controller, treating it like a deck of cards for a party trick. She lifts her eyebrows, tempting. 

“You weren’t kidding.” you say, amazed. 

“Unless you have a better idea,” she drawls, shaking it to double down the offer. “What, too much of a pussy to play me?” 

“You’re on. Give me the other controller.” 

–

Full disclosure aside. 

Moments like these with Kazuha have always been the usual bread and butter for you two to bond over on. With the amount of years carried in between - part of you has imagined what it would be like if the relationship label found its way to you two instead of the opposite. 

(You remember it vividly, the brief period was short lived for a few months after keeping the emotions at bay for a long ass time. Going into high school was the usual phase where the feelings aren’t exactly certain, and eventually change. She could’ve left you out of her life then, but didn’t. Attached wasn’t the right word you or her would say, though, you’re glad she stayed either way.) 

Even after she started to come out of her shell, be talkative, get more active, fit in clothes that make you and every other horny guy on campus drop their jaws at, she’s still the same girl you met back in kindergarten: a true friend at your side going places, while also doing stupid stuff for the fun. 

“This goddamn blue shell, I swear to god-” 

As for you, well- you’ve got tunnel vision, deathly locked to the screen, blocking all outside noise and focusing on the mario character and the amount of asphalt you got on the tires. Kazuha was all up in your ear, talking about how she managed to build a gap after a poor start on your end with the amount of bananas being tossed up track and dropped along the kerbs. She also thought racing at 200cc was a great idea - when in reality she’s only raced nothing above 50cc. 

She’s using every trick in the arsenal: the hand to your face, kicking your side; hell, even covering your end of the screen if it meant being in last place. Her definition of victory was seeing you not succeed. 

All in all, it was a good way to have fun. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she asks, when she’s fully calmed down and actually playing properly. “That night where you had to pick me up from the kickback,” her body leaning with the steering motion of the kart when the controls were strictly to the joystick. “No one told me I didn’t get hooked up with anybody.” 

“Because you didn’t.” you say tiredly. Explaining the gauntlet she gave you to bring her back home safely. 

You’re finishing first ahead of Kazuha - the girl can’t drive in real life as it is. 

Her legs cross over yours, paying no attention to the spread of her toes and flex of her calves. Heel grazing your crotch before resting along your thigh, fighting the urge to break composure and adjust yourself. “Hmph, that’s a shame. Since you did see me drunk after all-” 

“Happens multiple times than I would like to count,” you’re saying mildly, glancing, “I was also hoping that Sakura would take you home instead of Eunchae calling me.”  

“Is that what happened?” Kazuha asks, and it abrupts your thoughts quickly. “Sorry- I know I asked the morning after but - still don’t remember much.” 

You look away, down to your hips. Your mind and body clearly not in sync. 

Which begs the question: “So, what do you actually remember? From that night?” 

The answer she gives goes in one ear and out the other. Vividly telling you the details. 

“You’re not very slick about me; you know that, right?” Kazuha concedes. And you agree, completely cornered.

“What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Gonna keep talking?” 

“Please, I can do more than just talk.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, pulls her legs back, shakes her head, the intent easy for you to read. There’s a few shared secrets with her you’d like to keep. 

What’s one more thing to hide from Kazuha and Yunjin? 

–

Think of it this way, racing’s got a lot to offer: the thrill, the rush, the risk. Kazuha loves to put you in the dust; always making you chase until you’ve got one over her. She’s screwed you over in other lifetimes - including this one - but, it’s worth noting the exception: a rare occasion where you’re back at the starting line and finishing all the same. 

Kazuha doesn’t look over her shoulder often; disregards the terror she leaves behind without a care, and you ought to remind her where it lands as soon as you can. 

“Jesus christ-” is what leaks out of her lips, biting down another moan in her throat. You cup her chin and force the look up, hands slipping on the glass. “Your fucking cock is just-” 

Amazing? Well, she took the words from Yunjin, and you know.

It’s extravagantly fucked up: turning back time as if it was yesterday - you’re railing her in the shower, warm water falling from above, steam fogging up beneath. 

She sure knows how to make you shut up, just like old times, and a small part of you wishes how things might’ve been different if you or her if you said something back then, but you’ll let your bodies do the talking - her cunt clenching around your shaft, skin rippling the water off with every wet slap in, hand reaching for your thigh for stability. You’re just holding on and having her do most of the work in throwing her ass back, begging you for more, press her against the wall, take your cock like she always does - she may treat you like shit in the most affectionate way possible, but that layer is stripped entirely if her heart and mind allowed it. You’re going to fuck her pretty cunt, make her remember that night where she got herself off with you watching and act like nothing happened despite the raw marks of red on her creamy skin. 

That too, and she’ll be a pain in your ass still: “What’s wrong? Worried Yunjin will walk in on us?” 

“Kind of counting on it,” you relent, and she hunches. You pull her back up and feel her breath hit your chin. “Who knows? Maybe she’d want to join us.” 

“You think so?” Her arms flush with the tile. 

“If you’ve forgotten,” you manage, bracketing her waist - grip hard enough to make her yelp, and you’re loving every second. She’s a brat and a bitch and a slut rolled up into one; someone who has no care for others, except - oh, right; you’ve put up with it long enough. It’s the perfect opposite. “You’re the one who made the first move.” 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” she denies, dishonored and deflective, so you drag your hips and push back in, grab her face, watch her jaw go slack. “Oh god. Baby, yes-” 

The water’s streaming down her chest, her abs, spraying off to the walls and glass - you snake your hand to her neck, a muscle memory: everything else is an easy line to follow. 

One of her legs are lifted for you to hook, so that you can reach the familiar angle you’ve lost the feeling for too long, where you’ve made her scream, swear out more obscene stuff. She’s bracing herself along the wall properly when you’ve slid your cock back inside her; she’s groaning a lot louder now, tensing, moaning - you’re supporting her and she’s taking it like you promised, her head bobbing all over the place, mouth canted, skin flushed hot-pink. A smile breaks at the corner of her lips. It’s the easy position, the natural flow of motion, keeping pace, a simple solution to a problem - all of the qualifications applied in different situations. Except, your hands find themselves on the rise of her hips, ass hypnotizing you all over your eyes; she’s leaking on your cock, cunt split open and ready to ruin - and you think you’ve finally won the argument, somewhere hidden past the heavy breathing. 

“Fuck- fuck me. Oh- shit- ah-” spills out, and it’s another win to take in, soaking the moment of bliss - that’s so fucking good, i’ve missed this so much, keep going, yes- right there, harder - she’s lost her mind entirely. 

You shouldn’t be grinning wickedly, but you are - it’s relieving in bend a girl like her to your will who can’t hold herself to the end. 

“The worst kind,” she’s huffing, gasping, mewling, trying so hard to keep her posture up while you work her towards the orgasm she’s been asking for since her feet skimmed over the bulge in your pants, playing it off like nothing terribly as it’s a routine for her. You’re aware that she’s probably touched herself while you and Yunjin fucked throughout the night. The walls around here are thin as it is, and so much for that. 

You don’t let up, fucking her hard and fast, like she wanted - praising you for finally breaking that unspoken rule left behind years ago and promise to keep it on the low. You and her both knew it would happen again eventually. How could you not? Just one little change of impulse and you’re on the one way track to hell. 

(Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing, either.) 

“I don’t hate,” she says, urging, whining and whimpering and you’re dying to hear more of it for her - “please, just- it’s incredible, I fucking love it, this fucking cock- all for me-” 

You grab a handful of her slick hair and yank, watch the arch in her spine rise, the fluttering eyelids and shape of her mouth. Kazuha drops her jaw even lower and winces when you pound her pussy deeper; the imaginary line in your head fades with the steam. She’s clenching tightly around your shaft, and you know that this won’t be a singular occurrence. She’s gonna be coming back for more, becoming addicted, clingy. “You like? S’that feel good?” you’re asking anyway, waiting to hear the same answer. 

You want this to last. Her cunt quivers around your length, clamping. You’ve fucked her through the first orgasm, onto the second or third, neither of you are keeping track - you’re chasing for your own - but there’s a sense of grandeur to this, in addition of the gratification to the reward from watching how astonishlingy you can dick her down and put her back in her place. 

Kazuha’s putting effort where it counts. Says: “Need- I need it- fucking christ, please, do it already-” And - fuck, not in a polite way, but good note for trying. 

Kazuha sobs along with a low huff that’s one of the hottest things you’ve heard from her in a while - a long time - contracting and expanding and clenching around you. Great job, baby. You did a good job keeping up with me. I don’t mind you cumming first. I’d prefer to finish second. Holy shit, you don’t realize how long it’s been since you stepped in the shower, mind focusing on Kazuha and legitimately nothing else. 

“Shh, shh,” you’re saying, a finger to her lips, feel her tongue run against the side of it - and the nod is small, but you’re thinking ahead to what she’ll do next. 

You pull yourself out and slap the tip on her pussy lips, listen closely to the squelch when you slip in again, deeper. You can’t tell if the water on her face is from the shower head or her tears, trickling down as her mouth meets yours. God, her kisses are just like the first ones. 

“Gonna cum again?” you ask, delicately. “You are. Let it out.” 

And Kazuha can breathlessly say yes without the words - she’s cumming, cumming, and wants to show you how badly. You could spend a few more minutes here, conserve the water. Paying the bill and next rounds of games can wait. 

–

There’s no complexity behind it. The sun comes up and the world still spins. 

Some days, Kazuha flutters to you - bare cunt underneath her shirt and you’re catching a second glance. Slaps your ass like every other time and expects you to bring it up later. Which you do. 

Or- 

You’re taking her by surprise, as some lousy excuse to pin her down on the nearest hard surface within reach, perch her hips up to yours until you have to carry her to the shower or bed - only for the mess to come back around again. She tugs the ends of the panties, faintly smacking on her skin, wiggles her perky ass and touches her hair - bundles it up in her hands, her slender back towards you and another spot to deal with some other time. 

“You sure you don't want Yunjin to know?” She asks, snapping you out of your daydream. 

With a quirk of your lips, “Maybe she already knows. But if I speak, I’d be in big trouble.” 

Kazuha tsks. “So wrong for you to leave her out of the fun.” To be fair, she’s more right than wrong. If you were honorable enough to tell the truth, you could’ve told Yunjin to commensurate something with the shared dynamics - albeit way more confusing than it is, because it’s all just for fun, a wacky journey with no destination. 

A rerun of you, fucking Kazuha into puddled pile of pure putty, watch her eyes shimmer when you cum in her mouth, in her hair, paint her pussy with your mess and see her relieved - a deal slipped under the table, unspoken. Yunjin might’ve swapped roles with her in being gullible or oblivious to the signs now - or even back then, you’re not quite convinced. Bottomline: you’ve missed this version of Kazuha. It’s a nice switch up and a way to disconnect and destress from the pressures of the outside world, sheltering and confining yourself since that’s always the best option to have - besides, there’s some work to do still: you got the notice of the final evaluation, from both jobs at the top of your list, somewhat nerve wracking. You’ll have to make a decision, find what fits best for you, which one pays more. Maybe get a second opinion from Yunjin or Kazuha. 

You’ll figure it out as you go along. 

–

When you do ask Yunjin about your little dilemma, part of her attention is on you - at a distance. 

She’s too busy watching Phantom of the Opera after you ate her cunt out while her hourly reading earlier in the day, only because she kept teasing you underneath the desk while on call with the same friend who managed to land a position at their new job. Relax, they’re saying at the time, don’t worry too much and just be ready for what’s to come. 

“Huh? Sorry, ask me again,” Yunjin’s telling you, chin on her shoulder and glances over at you at the kitchen preparing dinner. “The actress’s high note caught me off guard.” 

Kazuha laughs, sitting on the counter and at your side, peeling off lettuce for her salad - proximity minimized to where your hand’s grazing her thigh. “Are you sure Sian’s job is the right one for you?” she asks, rephrasing the question as her own. “I mean, you say you liked the offer from her.” 

“Possibly,” you answer, slicing a carrot, placing the knife down. “She told me she’ll call sometime tomorrow to confirm.” 

“Makes sense,” Yunjin supplies. “Good pay. Office isn’t far, convenient. Also on the fact that she’s pretty to be a manager or in charge? Heavy on the pretty, though.” 

“Right,” you agree, looking at Kazuha, fingers slipping over the rise of her thigh and in. You quirk your eyebrow in suspicion, noticing the lack of underwear (once again) and her folds already soaking. “She really is pretty.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, dips her head down. 

“I think I've made up my mind,” you say, pushing- sliding deeper in, quirk your lip in a ‘shh’ so that Kazuha can keep her voice low. “Might’ve been a pure choice from the start.” 

“You think so?” Yunjin says, puzzled. “That was easy.” 

You and Kazuha both give a confused look at her. Knuckles curled in Kazuha’s walls, inconspicuous and hidden - a familiar reflex and motion of the hand. She’s so slick for you, it’s unfathomable. A whimper rumbles within her chest, and you cough loudly to cover the sound. 

Yunjin glances over for a third time. “Everything okay there?” 

Kazuha sniffles, seamlessly playing along without a proper cue. “The onions,” you’re saying, sheepishly grinning like a dumbass. “Zuha got the first wave of them.” To that, Yunjin laughs, wiggling her head the other direction. “Should’ve been helping me over here instead.” 

“I would,” replies Yunjin, waving her hand up in the air. “But my legs have lost their feeling. Wonder whose fault is that.” 

You shrug your shoulders and carry on your work at the counter. 

–

You’re fielding calls from the shortlist, waiting for one contact. 

Then the phone rings. 

Greetings are exchanged and it’s right down to business: “Drop by the office later. It’ll be brief, I promise. Just checking in one last time on how you feel about the offer.” Sian’s telling you. “Apologies for making you wait.” 

“Nonsense,” you’re beaming, swiping through your belongings and whatever you can fill in your hand. “Wasn’t doing much besides keeping myself busy.” 

Soon you’re on the way out of the door, noticing a box next to your shoes. You don’t remember ordering anything in the past few days, so that theory is eliminated automatically. Yunjin’s made her way to see you off, arms crossed and partially excited. 

You pull your phone away, pointing to the package. You’re mouthing the curiosity, and Yunjin nods. There’s not much to assume: it’s probably a new batch of books for her to read, or some clothes. You don’t suspect much.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way now. See you soon.” 

–

(The interview goes exactly as Sian said it would. 

She’s telling you about the perks about the office and benefits within the first few months. They’re all really good, you can’t deny that. Not to mention the signing bonus. You can’t stop smiling at the new opportunity, ecstatic for what’s in store. 

You’re driving home later and feel like the sun’s burning a little bit brighter than usual - clouds filling up the endless blue sky. 

An attempt is made to call Yunjin, but no answer. You try Kazuha too, no luck. 

There’s the simple assumption that they’re both busy and they’ll see the missed calls before you get back.

A cleared schedule opens up a lot of things.) 

–

Everything seems a lot easier when there isn’t a weight on your shoulders, relieved of stress and the only current worry is hobbling back to your bed and sleeping there for the rest of the day. You click the deadbolt out of place and swing the door open, letting yourself in. “I’m home,” you’re calling out, slipping out of your shoes and the bag gets placed next to the small table where the keys go. “Genuinely thought it was going to take longer-” 

You freeze your movements when you hear the spill of moans close by. 

Because you peek the corner like a kid waiting for Santa Claus - but instead of seeing a red man placing gifts and stealing milk and cookies, you see Kazuha leaning back on the kitchen counter, sitting on the chair with someone else on top of her, leaving fresh marks it could be mistaken of her being bitten from a vampire - the person on top presses her hips up, diving down to her neck, pushing and yanking before you realize she’s getting fucked by- 

“Yunjin, what the fuck!?” you exclaim. 

Yunjin rests her head on Kazuha’s chest, fingers clasping to her shoulder - you’ve seen that wicked look on her face before, devilish and corrupt. Now, in your place: it’s Kazuha pulling her close, tilting her head back when Yunjin shifts her hips up between Kazuha’s legs, dragging out another moan. 

“Welp, I guess we got caught,” says Yunjin, and her strap-on slips out of Kazuha in one simple pull. 

Clearly, you’re confused, bamboozled. Yunjin’s coming back to her senses as she swipes a hair behind her ear, playing the innocent role poorly and none of it makes sense, at all. Your girlfriend and roommate - roommate and girlfriend, and you start to remember- 

“Thought I said that I wasn’t finished,” Kazuha sputters, oblivious of your presence. She’s sitting back up on the chair and clinging to the edge of the counter. “You told me that I’ll have my turn with the strap when you’re done - we barely started.” She’s hitting Yunjin’s arm, hair falling over and panting erratically. “Yunjin, please-” 

“Zuha,” Yunjin taps Kazuha’s shoulder, flicks a finger towards you - authoritative and calm. “I think we have other things to worry about. Also hey hi, I didn’t hear the door open or you walk in.” 

“Well I did,” you say, walking further inside and assessing the scene. Kazuha then sees you in her view and her jaw drops, both shocked and disappointed. “Didn’t want to interrupt your fun little session going on here.” 

“She knows about-” Kazuha tries to speak, covered by Yunjin’s hand, and stops her sentence. 

“You? Us?” you ask. 

“Should’ve told me sooner,” Yunjin butts in, unimpressed with a smirk. “I didn’t expect you’d have a headstart with my suggestion.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

“Mmfph,” Kazuha tries to say, but the press of Yunjin’s hand is a lot more firm. She’s lost her talking privileges for now. This wasn’t even the worst bit of this incident, you think. 

You’re sighing, undecided, at a crossroads: two girls on your shoulders with very similar,  contrasting perspectives and ideals. Yunjin’s the purest of angels in human form, Kazuha the devil’s advocate living in your house. The thought of you being walked in by Kazuha with Yunjin on your cock was a thing of the past. With Yunjin’s strap filling up Kazuha- 

“How do you suppose we deal with her?” You’re asking, playing into the role of second fiddle to Yunjin’s wishes, wherever she wants to take them, burying your nose into her hair and looking down at Kazuha’s eyes light up in excitement. 

“I think you can help me with that,” declares Yunjin, and for the thousandth time it’s something you’re following through. “Give this girl a proper work up for once.” 

“With pleasure.” 

“But first-” 

“First?” 

Kazuha’s body tenses. “Mmrph??” 

Yunjin’s head dips, licking her lips. Her fingers tap the fabric of your crotch. “Not yet,” she sighs, and she’s teasing the pink head of plastic on Kazuha’s folds. “Actually,” Yunjin’s hearty laugh gives you an idea where this is going, and it’s not looking pretty. “We’re gonna have you watch.” 

–

Where do you even begin with these two? That’s the golden question. 

Think of it this way, a coming of age story would have all the highs and the lows, a sunset drive into the horizon with the top down and music blasting for everyone else to hear, romanticizing both the achievements and shortcomings of each character, tossing snacks to each other and clinking glasses while letting the end credits roll. 

Kazuha and Yunjin, however, lock lips at the couch; you’re breathing deep - you’re slipping down the chair, not quite shameful that you’re not in the act. 

Maybe it’s the fantasy written up in your head - in its purest form and in real time. The ambiance settling down to a space meant to be locked away; shelved behind a drawer and door, never to be seen in the light of day, exclusively for your eyes only. 

Yunjin tilts her head one side with Kazuha on the other, playing along well. Everything about it is down to the last vivid detail: her fingers carding into her hair, gripping, pulling her head up so Kazuha can get more air - slip an arm underneath the arching back and bring her leg up against her heat. You give Yunjin a look when she locks eyes with you, paying no attention to Kazuha peppering her cheek with more kisses and clearly asking for more, giggling as she indulges her request. Their hands trailing all over their unclad bodies, miles of skin between them. They both sigh in relief, finally showing what they cherished the most with each other. There’s no regrets of your actions: you’ve got a piece of Yunjin - what she’s like, same for Kazuha from another period lost to time, but it’s all culminated to this. Soon you’re towering the pair and see the crimson and sweat spread across, willing to have your fill be satisfied by both.

If your sympathy was a knife, you’d turn the blade around and twist it inside yourself. 

Kazuha’s hand grips the belt loop, grinning. Yunjin tugs your hand to her face, kissing it. Wraps her plump pretty lips on your thumb. An unspoken testament of what’s to come. The credence of raw, unfiltered, sin. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Yunjin asks, very silently. Kazuha opens her neck up as an invitation. 

“Oh,” you breathe, softly. Kneeling down at the couch and exchanging glances. “You have no idea.” 

(Show me everything. Show us everything, they said, partially devious. How bad your impurities are. We want it all. We deserve it all.) 

–

Maybe all of this was the long-awaited culmination; Kazuha’s mind is so far gone, back pinned against the wall like she knows you and Yunjin are about to ruin every part of her body. Clothes are being slipped off your frame, pooling onto the floor and soon to be ignored till the next morning. Yunjin’s hands graze your middle, feeling the hardened muscle - sighing into your neck and flashes a look across. 

“Should I know how long you two kept this from me?” she asks, half-curious. Well aware of the answer. 

You keep your gaze on Kazuha while pulling your head back - observing, but flicking your eyes back and forth. “Would it be best to hear it from the person responsible?” you say, seeing Kazuha’s face shift from her to yours and unsure who to choose. 

“Figured there were signs,” Kazuha answers, lifting her leg up at the crease of her knee, giving an implication. It’s not a pressure point - not yet, at least - an angle where you can jump in and double down on. “If they weren’t obvious enough.” 

“Are we seriously playing dumb here?” Yunjin then follows up, twisting her head. “Right now? Of all times?” 

“Choose your words wisely,” you’re saying, towering over the girl in your arms - a subtle warning. 

“You’ll be a good girl, yes?” Yunjin adds. “Then we’ll see if you deserve it.” 

Kazuha snickers, sound bouncing off the hallway, and you and Yunjin both sigh in dejection - though, Yunjin slaps Kazuha’s thigh, prompting you to pin her lower half to the drywall. “I see we’re at a bad start already,” she’s saying, and her arm slithers up to your chest, “you keep acting like this, Zuha, we’re gonna have some issues. Not to mention,” she’s rambling, taking a step back to open the space in flipping Kazuha around with her back in view, arms up instinctually and hips moving back, Yunjin’s arms crossed over her chest with the strap-on in her hand, instigating. “I think it’s best if he takes the first crack in breaking you.” 

“How generous,” you tell her, leaning down to kiss the fine line of Kazuha’s spine. “I thought you’d be more cruel.” 

Yunjin grins, finger to her teeth. “That’s more of your thing rather than mine.” 

“Liar,” you growl, and it’s a small reveal of your true intent, bringing them close and never letting go - your arm pulls Yunjin back in, gasping at the sudden move. Yunjin giggles, teetering into a small moan; you look down and she takes the hint in feeling Kazuha’s ass, listening to the hitched breaths, see the slightest scrunch of her shoulder. “Don’t think that you can hide away from me, either,” And you slap your hand firmly on the fresh skin, Kazuha slipping out a yelp in response - “I know you want your fun as well, baby.” Your thumb and index pinch both of her cheeks, squishing. “Unless you’d prefer to watch.” 

“You know me. I’ll have my go if you’re willing.” 

“I’m still down here,” interrupts Kazuha. “Why don’t you-” 

Here was the perfect time to show Kazuha again what you’re made of - you grip both of your hands to the swell of her hips, pushing them up until all of her chest is flush with the wall in front - her hand flies back to yours; clawing the skin on your arm, your hips- 

“Watch it,” you snarl, grabbing her wrist and putting it along the small of her back, hoping to break the tension. Technically, she’s doing the opposite. 

She squirms in your hands for a few more seconds, resisting. The grunts coming out of her mouth don’t apply to you; Kazuha’s feet skating across the floor, widening the stance, spilling out pleas- 

“Fucking swear to God,” she harshly swears, and you’re with her; Yunjin’s taking another step back, leaning. She can’t help but smile at the authority, the general hierarchy you’re used to giving her. Throwing out orders and demands - Kazuha with her insightful snarks, nowhere to be heard or seen as she’s finally getting a taste of her own medicine- 

Both of Kazuha’s arms are behind her back. She’s helpless once you’ve finally got a hold on her. 

“How long is it gonna take you to fuck me or force me to watch you fuck Yunjin instead?” she whines, persistent. Her hands cup the sides of your hips, pushing her ass back - you don’t fight it, laser focused on her face. “Didn’t realize that we’re dishing out my punishment like this right off the bat.” 

“We’re getting there,” you agree, and you’re palming her breast beneath the shirt, clumping up the fabric - thumbing a nipple and pinching. “Yunjin will have her fun too when I’m done with you.” 

You look right at Yunjin and she nods. 

She’s keeping herself occupied with the strap-on in her hand, putting her pouty lips on the silicone tip, licking shamelessly and her other hand to her legs - cheeks flushed in a hot pink and eyes trained on you. You’d expect her to watch - let her have her own fun in the meantime. She’s so good; fucking you and Kazuha both, though it’s somewhat on par or incomparable to the roughing up you’re gonna do to Kazuha as a means of staying true to your word. Her tongue laves the side of plastic, lowers it down to her hips, hoping to tease and have that ache sated until her turn comes along to be taken, fucked mercissely, ruthlessly.

You lift a brow for the final confirmation, and Yunjin matches it. 

“You can watch of course, baby,” you say, and Yunjin’s face lights up. “Go ahead, do what you need to do.” 

Yunjin twists her back to the wall, head tilted while her legs spread wider to welcome the space of the strap-on between her legs - you’ve curled your arm around Kauzha’s hip, rub her clit from that angle, stroking slowly at her leaking slit; so yeah, this girl leaks sex. As for you: you’re eating it up. Knowing that there’s another pair of eyes on you, greedily staring once you get on one knee, place a trail of kisses to the backside of Kazuha’s thigh, bundle up the oversized shirt in your hands. You hook your palms to the fold of her legs, brush your nose in her cunt, taste the droplets on your tongue- 

“Are we observing?” You ask Yunjin. “Not the first time I’ve seen you use a dildo in front of me.” Your mouth sucks in the dripping slick of Kazuha’s pussy, earns you a sharp inhale through her teeth. Biting down on one of her folds and pulling. “I wanna see you ruined before I have the chance myself.” 

Your gaze shifts back to Kazuha because you know Yunjin will follow whatever you say. Even when your cock is brushing up against Kazuha’s slit, pushing in her pussy and the girl sings a broken note. 

Kazuha, by instinct, tilts her head down, overwhelmed, choking on the bob in her throat; all it takes is one firm snap of your hips in and it’s not enough time to get accustomed to the stretch - that deep, open stretch, her cunt pressuring you so tight, addicting - you’re amazed at how she can pick up things quickly, breathing steadily with every stroke, see her eyes at the corners, upping the intensity, twisting her head back forcefully and curve the arch a bit more deeper- 

A makeshift ponytail is created without a second thought, locking the stare in and keeping it frozen, failing to maintain composure when she’s moments away from finally breaking in front of you, or Yunjin. Kazuha’s pride is always one thing she holds close. Snuff it out of her and there’s nothing, and she can’t deny it: the way that she’s trying so hard to not be a completely needy, slutty bitch. 

“What’s wrong, huh?” you’re taunting - imitating her snark - man, it’s so nice not to be on the receiving end in one of those. “Wasn’t this the punishment you asked for? Well guess what?” You’re grasping at her cheek that it brushes yours. “It’s here, Zuha. Just me, you, Yunjin, and your dirty little cunt, all for us to have.” 

“All talk, still,” Kazuha remarks, syllables barely stable. She’s so shrunk down over your presence that when your cock is in play, it splits her body in two, crumbling her: she can spit out words for days, but knows that she’s vulnerable in a fight. “You’re not even putting effort into me. Fucking christ- asshole. Just-” 

You can’t help but chuckle - actually laugh, because the insults don’t hurt like they used to back then, that added layer in the dynamic where you’ll take the punch and send it right back. You’re slamming your hips in, press your fingers into her hip; Kazuha can keep giving you shit, but you see her head hit the drywall, eyes lidded and mouth quirked to keep it all in. There’s no point - she’s gushing on your cock, clamping. 

“Just what?” You yank her hips out and in, make her yelp at the change in pace. “Stop? Keep going? I can’t tell what you’re asking for and neither can Yunjin.” Yunjin herself lets out a breathy sigh - the strap-on’s worked well inside her cunt, matching the strokes as best she can; at this point, you’re just waiting for her to squirt on the floor. “Could’ve sworn you were greedy a few days ago when I fucked you in the back of the car, don’t lie to me.” 

“Maybe.” You slide in - genuinely fucking her. Kazuha tries to let it go casually the way you’re cock’s tearing inside her - you’ll give her the ‘A’ for attempting. That feeling can’t be ignored - she’s close, rising within - it’s in the lines of her face, her body, it’s showing. “Fuck - that’s not the point. I couldn’t be more desperate for your cock unlike Yunjin.” 

She’s not saying it for Yunjin’s sake, but also for her own: smiling through the pleasure despite her body nearly shutting down and breaking on your cock. All that ego, that bullshit given all these years, it’s all gone in an instant. It was a pipe dream to fuck the boldness out of her - you’ll come close, but not close enough. You’ll fuck her truly in the way that she wants - and the glint over her shoulder pierces through your eyes. Do your worst, you imagine her saying. I’d love to see you try. 

So, you’ll give exactly the worst thing to her. You’ll make her cum on your cock. 

You let go of her face, grab her tit before sliding down to her pussy. “Look at you,” you tell her, matching the smirk she gave you on the couch the other day, recalling, “nowhere to go.” 

Kazuha parts her mouth, ready to dart back with a witty response - or tries to - rocked with her high so intense that it’s bubbling in her throat, on her tongue. She’s there, thanks to you; Yunjin’s honoring your request, wincing, sliding that silicone cock inside- 

She’s up next, you’re not forgetting. You take Kazuha - all the way in, past her orgasm, let her shoulders go slack, breath in thin wisps, hand losing grip and slipping from your sweat, and you’re grinding your cock deep in her - all the way down to the base, where the blowback of your balls tapping her clit, prolongs the feeling - a new sensation; fuck, she feels so fucking good- 

“How do we deal this out, you suppose?” You ask Yunjin, breathless, head held high, breaking your gaze and towards your girlfriend. “Should I carry on what I’m doing?” Kazuha whimpers when you’re massaging her ass, slowly driving your cock back in, softening the blow. “Do whatever our little slut wishes?” 

You and Kazuha both glance at Yunjin together, slick dripping down her thighs, small threads plastered on your hips, and Yunjin slides the strap-on out of her like it’s a restraint. Kazuha slides off your cock, leans back to your embrace, legs quivering - you gave her a lot to handle, that’s for sure. But you’re not done yet. Not until Yunjin’s got her chance. 

Yunjin herself is treated to such a sight, cum soaked on the plastic in her hand, but when you sweep her close she’s already falling: like she knows you’ll catch her whenever and doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing. You’re eying her eyes, those plump pretty lips, her long legs rivaling Kazuha’s, her leaking cunt - she’s shifting in your arm, like one look sends sparkles in her eyes. She’s waiting, patiently - lets you do anything to her without saying a single word. 

“Enjoyed the show, love?” You’re scratching the sweet spot behind her head and her neck relaxes. It’s those earthy eyes you can’t get enough of, love drunk and over her head with her switch flipped - hot and crazy in love she’ll want everything. “How does it feel seeing lovely little Zuha finally get humbled?” 

“I’ll literally cut your dick off if you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” retorts Kazuha, twisting her neck so she could face you. No matter how much of a pain in the ass she is while getting fucked, she’ll own that role close to her heart. 

Yunjin flashes a smile, and you smile back. Coming to a consensus. “Not enough for her, sadly.” 

Kazuha takes advantage for once, hurling your body against the hallway now, and making you shuffle back past the open door to the room. Yunjin fails at the mediary with her chin on her shoulder, pushing her weight so that the ratio is two-to-one. Both of their eyes are insane, glittering crystals and with a primal ferocity behind them - holy fuck, is it sexy, moments away from victory. Backing you into a corner where there’s no opening for escape. 

“Make you eat your fucking words out,” Kazuha says, voice unfazed when she just came on your cock a few minutes ago, “Better hope you won’t get the chance again.” 

“Careful Zuha,” Yunjin butts in, hoping to alleviate the tenacious threat. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side again.” 

“What she said,” you remark - leaving it at that for now. 

“Okay then,” Kazuha tuts, grabbing your face for a kiss, clawing your hair, soothing it. “I’m tagging Jen Jen in.” 

With that, Yunjin pushes Kazuha off to the foot of the bed and topples over you, claiming her prize. 

There’s a passing of the torch in the form of the strap-on - Kazuha takes it and wiggles on the bed - while you’re wrestling for control with Yunjin, grasping her waist and flipping her over so that she’s under, fingers in familiar spots where you’ve left marks and bruises before - ready to it again. “Guess you’re up,” you mumble - feeling the knuckles of Yunjin’s hand on your face before she fiddles with the cuff of your ear, pinching. You’re surveying the planes of her body, targeting the areas where it’ll hurt. “You could never have enough of my cock as it is.” 

An instant curveball when you slap her inner thigh twice, flip her over and slap her ass, then roll back to her cunt. 

Yunjin shrieks - Kazuha inhales deep at the sound when she pushes the strap-on in her cunt. You smack again, put your mouth to hers and funnel the noise down your neck. This was new to the script, and you’re certain it’ll stay. 

There’s no other pretense to act on, and you bury your cock inside her cunt. 

She is fucking dripping; given the mewls and moans petering out of her mouth, your ears focus on the sweet sound of slick as her pussy takes all of you, stretching and sliding in the ways you made her break, the noises heavenly, a symphony alone as you get back into true pace - you’re fucking her cunt so hard that it’s almost snapping her spine in half, or make her lose the feeling in her legs. Ah, you’re just treating yourself - possibly. Kazuha’s fucking herself right next to you two and has a front row seat of the one in many acts about to unfold- 

Her pussy is incredible - that’s just the jist of it, the meaning already written to existence long before you came along, Yunjin’s just huffing along, the size too grand to bear- 

“Good?” You know for damn sure it’s good. Her neck is a nice place for your hand to rest, siphoning the remaining air trapped in her lungs. The last gasp for more, taken away. “Yeah, you know it’s good. Same kind of sluttiness I expected with Kazuha. What would I ever do without you - getting off with your cunt and fucking you as I please. God, baby- it’s so fucking tight down there, I could never-” 

You’re left speechless when you abruptly pull out, slap your cockhead along her clit and she’s gushing everywhere, spraying the sheets, squirting in mere seconds. Kazuha drops her jaw in shock, ecstatic, amazed- 

“Kazuha’s in her own world, and she’s living in it,” You snap your hips, yank her body, sending another aftershock - your hands will never leave. “It shouldn’t be this easy, babe - the way that you’re just one, insufferable, cocktease-” 

Yunjin crunches her eyes, and her lower half subconsciously rolls with yours. She’s one to have her moment, but the way that she’s just taking it - so fucking well- 

“This strap couldn’t fill her enough,” Kazuha chides. And that’s the daunting realization - it’s one thing to keep things mundane, by the book, but this: the degrading, the power going to your head, the advantages you seized for yourself, you’re speaking listless shit and giving less of a fuck for your own benefit. “Now you got a taste of your own medicine, honey. All that talk about having all of him when he clearly has sights for others. Now he’s got me to deal with if you’re not around; and look at him, he’s really greedy. 

Yunjin’s sobbing, tears seeping at the corners. You’re close - everything in your body expanding and rushing to the peak - but her scared expression makes you think otherwise, spares a second thought. 

“Do you believe that, sweetheart?” You grit, releasing your grip around her throat, leaning for a kiss and it brings her back to life. “Tell us how it feels.” 

Kazuha’s scooting closer, the silicon impaled deep in her cunt, tapping her clit at a fast pace. She’s conservative, yet so smug that it’s rubbing on Yunjin instead, the build up is there, voices rising, crescendoing- 

“It’s so good, so- fuck, so fucking good,” she spits, mouth trembling and the rest of the words are in tongues - and you’re sure that you’ve broke her once again. “I love this cock so much - I can’t even begin to describe how well it fucks me, taking me just to dump your cum, come back for more - please, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-” 

On instinct, she taps your thigh. A signal to let you know she has a different play in mind. 

You snap your gaze back to Kazuha and she immediately takes the hint, a wicked grin spread on her lips to sell the implied message. 

From there it’s a simple one-two, a bait and switch. You slide out of Yunjin’s well fucked cunt and swoop Kazuha’s legs, pulling her over to you while Yunjin staggers back on the bed, taking the strap-on tossed to her so she can simmer down the aching heat engulfing her stomach. You don’t even register the quick inhale Kazuha does when you seamlessly slip back inside her waiting cunt and pick up right where you left off with her - and the screams level with the incessant slaps of skin on skin. 

“Back for more, are you?” Kazuha grunts, sucking in her gut from the pull on her shoulders and into your cock. “Such a shameless boy.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth, whore.” You’re bearing no mind to the word sputtered out. The only thing in your head is taking your roommate’s pussy and making it yours. Nothing more, nothing less. “Gonna ruin this cunt now.” 

“Hold still and look pretty,” demands Yunjin, and she’s on Kazuha’s side, strap-drunk as Kazuha’s head tips back and slides her hand down her abs to her cunt, watching you fuck and fuck and fuck into Kazuha - wrecked and full of your cock, like you needed this to relieve the stress out your body, and Yunjin’s face twists to something more evil, twisted, witnessing a prophecy come to fruition- 

“Look at our cute cocksleeve go.” Yunjin’s fingers tap your forearm, nails clawing curves into your skin - the sting going unnoticed as the thrusts keep moving - another sense acquired, you’re sweating, overheating. “I’m sure he came in you already, and guess what? He’s gonna ruin your tight cunt and fill you up to the brim - when we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to be carried around the house-” 

Kazuha cries and cums on your waist - Yunjin sits up, fingers fast to the crease of her legs, surprised and seeing it all unfold. As for you, you’re tensing, gritting teeth together, cumming inside her cunt, the release sought after now tumbling in true bliss- 

“Oh, no. We can’t have you be that loud now.” 

Yunjin waddles over on her knees to Kazuha’s head, angles her head, and pushes the plastic cock between her lips, smothering with her own spit - see the bob form in her throat when she takes it halfway in. 

You’re still going, pulling out and sliding your tip across her folds, soaked in white and convinced that there’s more for you to offer. The strokes are consistent, long enough for another minute or so until you’re spilling a second load in her walls, pumping her full. 

“God, fucking- Jesus. Kazuha-” 

“Mmfrjmph,” she’s got herself full of other things to worry about than your leaking cum in her pussy. 

“Jen, switch.” You give the order and your girlfriend drags her hips away from Kazuha’s face. From the second you pull your cock out, white strips start to drip onto the sheets. Your mind’s barely there, putting every fiber of muscle from the nerves to get you at the headboard of the bed and settle into a comfortable position - and Yunjin flips Kazuha over, hooks her hands to her hips, dragging it towards her crotch, she managed to get the strap-on in time, pointing the length to her cunt, picking up small ribbons at the tip. 

“Think she needs a little clean up before you have your fun,” you suggest, fingers buried deep into the threads of Kazuha’s hair and forming it into a lazy bun, ignoring the little ‘ah’ from her lips and focusing her head on your softening cock. “Unless you’re gonna jump right in and get sloppy.” 

“You’ve made my point beautifully,” Yunjin agrees, lowering her head and raising Kazuha’s hips up so she can get the taste of both, pushing her back down and deepening the arch with a lick of her lips. “You taste good.” 

“Are you saying that to me? Or Zuha?” 

“Whatever answer you like.” 

Kazuha, as always, refuses to pay attention. Rather- her attention is drawn back to your cock, tongue sweeping the underside, your head falling back and hitting the wood behind, feeling her mouth lap up the mess of your cum slicked cock and slide your hips deeper into the mattress. This is heaven for her, for Yunjin too. A truce made once the damage has been done- 

“Don’t go too hard on Zuha, she’s been through a lot.” you tell her, but it’s more of a blessing in disguise when you and Yunjin are on the same page in most cases. A girl like Kazuha on her hands and knees, a collective effort fulfilled. 

Yunjin cackles and there’s no further meaning there, the tone sweet, syrupy - you could get drunk on it every single time her face brightens up. She’s leaning over to kiss you, arms wobbling in support so that she doesn’t fall on top of Kazuha, and it’s happened before. “Aw, well that’s too bad. I was gonna give her that and nothing else,” she tells you, smacking her lips off of you. Her hands rest at the swell of Kazuha’s waist, kneading and slapping lightly as a light tease. “You think I can’t hold my own.” 

You’re seeing a warble in the room somewhere - on Yunjin. The outer line of her stature warps in your vision - hot, messy, maliciously - jerking Kazuha’s hips back and brushes her hips to her ass.” 

“Yunjin, fuck- holy shit-” 

Kazuha gasps, smiling. The babbles are complete gibberish, filthy - Yunjin’s ramming her strap inside her ass, cum being pushed well into Kazuha’s womb, poking a little bump in her stomach, speeding up the motion and clawing wherever she can. Kazuha swallows up your cock, brushing the head at the top of her throat, humming - the vibrations bringing you back to life- 

“She’s built for taking pain,” Yunjin assesses, experimental. She has no regard for her best friend - and you see the whites in Kazuha’s eyes roll back, her lips sealed at the base and understands where she lies between you two. It’s where she’s meant to be, it seems. You could drop witty drawls and creative comebacks; when it comes to fucking her, neither of you expected her to this soaked. “What a slut. Not even a proper dick-down and spanking can’t shut you up.” 

Kazuha’s slurps mesh with the words. “I - mmrfph - fine, I swear. Okay-” 

It’s somewhat comprehending to have her like this, split in two and mouth full of your cock. “Yeah, she’s good. Kazuha- Kazuha, baby.” 

There’s nothing better than this. 

Kazuha getting her hole fucked, sucking you dry. 

She sucks. 

And sucks. 

“If there’s anything that we’ve learned,” Yunjin says mid-thrust, pointing Kazuha’s leg up to the ceiling, deepening the angle, “We both can fuck her brains to mush if we wanted to. Any time in the day, just pull her aside and tell her what to do. What do ya think?” 

You’re nodding, stuttering. Kazuha’s mouth has you speechless. “I have no objections,” you barely say, thighs tensing and shaking. “Yunjin, I’m gonna cum in her mouth.” 

“Then go ahead,” Yunjin tells you, and you do. Kazuha cheeks puff up at the eruption, streams of white leaking at the corners, satisfied. 

Yunjin gives one more good thrust for measure, slides the strap-on out of her fucked cunt, exhaustion collapsing her body, pleased and content with her end of the bargain - the strap-on gets tossed off the bed and onto the floor, made well with its use and disregarded. 

She rolls over to your side soon after, glancing. Kazuha’s face clearly spent and drifting off to sleep. For the time being. 

–

“We might’ve killed her,” you tell Yunjin peepingyour head past the door frame to see Kazuha’s unmoving body on the bed, “Is it worth checking if she’s breathing?” 

There’s the last remnants of what unfolded hours ago, the quick debrief - that kind of thing. You’ve got your head full of mixed emotions; each one of them occurring in passing seconds: happiness, satisfaction, remorse - unsure and nervous, kind of, it’s been a long night anyway. 

(She’ll wake up in the morning and feel sore. But if her first words of the day are related to bearing you, that’s a clear sign she’s back to normal.) 

“Kazuha’s a good catch,” Yunjin says. “If anything, she’ll complain about her thighs being tight.” 

“In relation to her pilates?” You flip the cup over and let the water flow into the drain. Yunjin’s patting your face with a damp towel. “Or the sex?” 

“Both,” and she smiles. You purse your lips in agreement. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to match her energy well.” 

“How could I not? C’mon, the girl was asking for it.” You laugh dryly. 

“Point taken,” Yunjin concedes and opens her limbs to let you in the middle, wrap them around and embrace you fully. Her borrowed shirt crumpling in, folding and forming creases alike. “You’re too good at this.” 

You give her a fond grin. “Wanna tell me that again?” 

“No.”

“No?” 

To suffice, she slots her lips to yours, leans back and taps the bathroom mirror. “Okay, it’s past our bedtime already.” 

You find yourself slipping through the chestnut pools and the titian waves - an endless valley to get lost in, the light radiating perfectly to where it highlights and complements the shades well. You’ve said a lot of things to her, more than you can probably count. 

“Love us,” you’re proclaiming, preaching to the open air. Her dragged grin pulls you deeper, and you spot the scrunch at the bridge of her brows: she couldn’t agree more. Then it reverts back to normal: “lose the shirt, we’ll share the body heat under the sheets.” 

–

The first day with drastic changes beckoning are scary.

This is nothing new.

Starting from scratch, conceptually, is always a new brush of inspiration, no matter what the event is. Luckily, it’s reassuring that you’re not facing these new horizons alone. With a guy like you, that has wonderful people in your corner - willing to support any endeavor you indulge in, it’s empowering. You’re convinced that the clouds part in the sky for the sun to fill the endless canvas of blue and you feel that whatever’s manifested in your mind will eventually come true. 

You have the same old pattern with Yunjin: take her out somewhere nice every now and then, waste your time doing nothing on some days, hold her heels or bag without her asking, let her treat you well whenever she feels like it. You share the usual banter, fuck her if things get boring, give her a lot of things to deal with that she’ll brush off later. 

With Kazuha, it’s a dice roll: 

She still spits out shit to you with no reason, and you return the favor and fuck her till she begs for more, gets into petty arguments until she comes walking back without saying a word, unable to take compliments, rambles endless fantasies waiting to be fulfilled more than just once. And you accept that she won’t let you off easily. 

When the two of them are together, sitting across from you or on their knees; backs on the bed or one eating out the other's cunt, it’s a place of a guaranteed connection; one that’s massively fucked up and with a million ways to go about with the pair. You and Yunjin know this - and between the three of you, it remains unsaid. 

“Got everything?” Yunjin asks, handing your trusted tumbler and ruffling up your hair, dusting off your windbreaker like a mom seeing off their child for school. “Expecting a slow day, aren’t you?” 

“You know me,” you drawl, grinning. “I’d much rather waste my time here and get paid for it.” 

The back of your head nicks forward as a response from behind, looking past your shoulder to see Kazuha tilt her head in view, getting a closer look of your appearance and drawing up her own assessment. “Until one of us get another job, it seems like you’re the main breadwinner of the household.” 

“Zuha, him and I were expecting your half of the rent for this month,” says Yunjin, hand to her hip and pouting, “Wanna tell us where the fuck it is?” 

Kazuha sashays herself next to Yunjin, inciting a staredown that ends after two seconds, shaking her head and dodging the question entirely. “Don’t worry about it. But I have the money, I swear.” 

“And what if you don’t have it when he comes back?” Yunjin asks Kazuha, rolling her eyes before shifting her gaze back to normal, “Then what?” 

You’re making your way out as the two continue with the quick argument, disregarding their attention. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be heading out now.” 

“Can I fuck her again while you’re gone?’ Yunjin then asks, shouldering her weight to Kazuha. “At least until-” 

You sigh. 

“I’d like to ask the same question, but do it on Yunjin,” Kazuha replies. 

(It’s a lot on your plate with Yunjin. Sure. Kazuha’s added herself to the mix - and it’s a tad bit more complicated. Maybe worse. Fuck all you know: you like them both.) 

“I’ll handle you two later,” you’re telling the pair, and they know you mean every word - a promise. “Feel free to get started.” After, you see yourself out the door. 

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

About A-Town, could you see, in the second season, they'd potentially do a David plotline (by accident, since the Animorphs don't talk about him), by introducing a new "recurring" cast member as a student who stumbles into the overall plot? And they're "edgier" than the main cast and represent the "hard choices" character, etc, and eventually are poised to betray the Animorphs and join the Yeerks, so they have to be removed in a TV-friendly way. Bonus if they date one of the main cast.

[For everyone just tuning in: A-Town is my idea for a shitty postwar sitcom about the leader (Brandon) of a team of teen shapeshifters, his best friend (JJ), his occasional girlfriend (Crystal), his cooler cousin (Trina), her on-again-off-again aviationship (Liam), and her beau's stepsister (Gina). Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental. Our legal team said so.]

What if this character is also Jeremy Jason McCole's self-insert Mary Sue? Assuming JJM's the same age as the Animorphs themselves, this'd put him at age ~26 playing age ~15 as of A-Town, but that's pretty standard for Hollywood.

Zachary the New Kid first appears at a meeting of The Gathering, chatting with some cool controller kids. The camera follows him as he walks out of the meeting, around the corner, and out of sight... a housecat walks out of the alleyway a second later. We smash-cut to Crystal's barn tree house, where the cat climbs up the ladder and into the window. "Zack!" JJ exclaims, "you scared me! Good thing we have you spying on the meetings of The Gathering, the secret alien organization. Ever since you joined the team last month after catching us morphing behind those dumpsters, you've used that cat morph more than any other — you're a real cat man at heart!" Cue laugh track; evidently this line is meant to be funny.

Zack may or may not live in Brandon's house. He refers to his parents having been taken by the yeerks, and over half his scenes are filmed in Brandon's bedroom, so...

The main plot of Zack's first episode involves him declaring he'll do "whatever it takes" to defeat the yeerks, and Brandon being worried that he's "going too far." Since A-Town never shows onscreen violence and involves lots of fauximorphs casually blowing up entire Yeerk Pools by pushing a button, it's not clear what either of these extremes would entail. None of the obvious answers (killing hosts, using oatmeal Chicken 'n Stars, siding with the andalites) ever comes up in conversation. In the end, Brandon and Zack hug and agree to put their differences behind them.

His catchphrase is "E-ZACK-tly!"

Zack's major running plot involves JJ being insecure because Trina obviously likes Zack better than him. JJ goes through various antics to win Trina back, and eventually succeeds, but then! The camera shows Zack hiding in a dark corner (of Brandon's bedroom) making out with someone, judging by the moans and smacking sounds. "Daisy" (Zeptron 420) flicks the lights on, and they scream in shock — it's Zack and Crystal! "Daisy" screams too, something about "filthy humans!" and runs off downstairs.

Brandon finds out about Crystal and Zack (presumably Zeptron tattled? or he just walked into his own bedroom?) and declares he and Zack must fight to the death. Brandon morphs his terrier Mopsy, Zack morphs a beagle, and... Well. There's lots of footage of Mopsy yapping and Zack-the-beagle howling, and Liam and Gina's narration assures us that there's a vicious dogfight happening just offscreen, so we'll take the show's word for it. Even though the footage clearly shows both dogs' tails wagging furiously the entire time. The episode ends without us finding out who won.

Between episodes there's a fan poll: should Zack stick around? He loses by a landslide.

Zack's penultimate episode opens up with him meeting "Daisy" in a back alleyway. Not only does he kiss her on the cheek — he's cheating on Crystal! — but he buys a pack of cigarettes from her. Zack walks out of the alleyway and straight into Liam. "This isn't what it looks like!" Zack declares, as Liam watches "Daisy" and the other Gathering controllers wave goodbye to Zack after he was clearly colluding with them. "I think," Liam growls, "it's e-ZACK-tly what it looks like. Cigarettes are an addictive substance, and contain over 40 different chemicals that cause cancer. Plus, cigarettes are uncool. We can't have someone who smokes on the team." Zack begs for another chance and promises to quit, but then — the mid-episode twist — offers a cigarette to Gina, who accepts.

The final episode opens with the other fauximorphs all telling Zack he can't be on their team anymore. Gina smoked one entire cigarette thanks to him, and she's just an innocent young... person. Entity. Being. Phenomenon. Look, the point is, cigarettes are DANGEROUS. Zack weedles his way into going on one last mission with the fauximorphs, where he heroically sacrifices his life to keep the others safe by letting the controllers capture him so the others can get away.

For the entire rest of the show, there's a memorial statue to Zack in the corner of the tree house. If you look very very closely in some of the shots, you can make out that the epigraph just says "SMOKING KILLS."

[unsuperingyournatural]

determined to win

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader / featuring Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Karl Urban, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Misha Collins

flirting, allusions to...stuff

The lot was humming with the kind of energy that only came after hours of shooting on a show like The Boys—chaotic, irreverent, and a little too caffeinated for everyone’s own good. The crew was flipping setups, shuffling gear, calling out camera specs while makeup artists darted in and out with brushes and blotters. You were parked in your chair just off set, content for now to recharge in costume, your boots still on, gloves folded neatly beside you.

Your suit clung tight, the zipper at your collar loosened just enough to breathe. You’d been shooting most of the day—blood squibs, stunt cues, shouting across a smoldering set piece with Karl and Jensen in full Butcher and Soldier Boy gear. The adrenaline had long since ebbed, leaving behind the comfortable drag of fatigue. Your phone rested in your palm, the screen lighting up every so often as you scrolled in idle loops.

Off to the side, the showdown between Jensen and Karl was reaching gladiatorial levels. Backgammon had never looked so personal. Jensen leaned forward, jaw tight, eyes narrowing with each roll of the dice. Karl lounged like a king with a winning hand, expression calm and casual, that classic New Zealand drawl giving every jab a little extra charm.

“You gonna roll sometime this year, or are you still mapping constellations on the board?” Karl asked, sipping from a can with far too much smugness.

Jensen didn’t look up. “Keep talking, Urban. I’m one roll away from erasing you from the bracket.”

“Mate, you said that three rolls ago.”

Jeffrey Dean Morgan had the best seat in the house—in a director’s chair nearby, Coke in one hand, Sour Patch Kids in the other. Jared stood a few feet off, arms crossed and smiling as he watched the game. Pedro, suited up for his cameo, leaned against a grip stand just outside the cluster, phone in hand, thumbing casually through his messages while keeping one ear tuned to the surrounding chatter, amusement flickering now and then across his face.

Then Misha appeared, striding in with his usual whirlwind energy.

Fresh from his own scene, costume jacket open and hair pushed back, Misha slipped into the conversation with a force of nature grin. He lingered just behind Jensen, soaking in the rhythm of the conversation, then zeroed in on the most animated corner of the group—where Jeff and Jared were chatting.

Your phone buzzed.

Pedro: Send help.

Your lips twitched.

Pedro: He's deep in a story about rescuing a possum with a French accent. I'm barely hanging on.

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh and glanced up. Sure enough, Pedro was standing just as before, now with Misha planted squarely at his side, animatedly holding court with Jeff and Jared while directing a steady stream of commentary to all three. Pedro's body was angled politely toward the group, head nodding occasionally, lips curving into the kind of laugh you could instantly recognize as courteous. Not fake. Just... polished. Polite. Reserved. He glanced down at his phone between chuckles, playing it off so smoothly it was almost impressive.

Another buzz.

Pedro: He's doing the possum voice. I think the possum just offered JP a cigarette.

Time for you to step in then and do the opposite of your character: save the day.

You stretched your legs out slowly and rose with care, joints popping quietly beneath the tight weave of your suit. The movement was deliberate, measured. No one gave you a second glance. That was the point.

Just as you were about to veer toward Pedro’s personal sitcom, a familiar voice rang out.

“Hey!”

You glanced over to find Jensen pointing dramatically toward the gaming table. “I need you in range. Two feet. Minimum. You’re my unofficial lucky charm now, and I’m not letting Urban mess with my stats.”

Jensen thought you were some kind of lucky charm of his now. Apparently, he finally beat Jared at some app game they played while on set, and it just happened to be the moment you plopped down into the cast chair next to him. A second victory happened when you appeared in front of him, kicking at his boot with yours, demanding to know why he told your PA to change your pineapple pizza order to something more palatable. Ever since then, if he engaged on any competitive games on set, your presence within a short range was required. You only humored him because it kept him from getting together with Jared and pranking the hell out of you—a deal you absolutely insisted on when you saw the wicked gleam in his green eyes at the word prank.

You raised a brow, deadpan. “Give me a minute. And by the way, I’m charging you for this. Full rate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Just don’t let him throw his smug at me unchecked.”

“Love you too, Ackles,” Karl muttered, not looking up from the board.

You turned your steps toward Pedro and the others, your smile reserved but sly. Pedro clocked your approach immediately, though he didn’t move. His laugh timed perfectly with another of Misha’s stories, but his gaze flicked to you like a tether snapping taut.

“Hey, JareBear,” you said with an affectionate nudge to Jared’s arm. “Still letting Misha pull you into a one-man play?”

“I mean, it’s kinda impressive,” Jared said, grinning. “Possum’s got range.”

Jeff snorted, shaking his head. “Only Misha could turn a possum into a full character arc.”

“Excuse you,” Misha replied, deadpan. “That possum had layers. Tragic backstory. Existential dilemma. A deep love of unfiltered Gitanes.”

You nodded once. “While I'm sure it will be a strong Tonys contender, I’m stealing an audience member. Pascal, put your phone down and escort a lady back to the demanding asshat who's yanking on her shackles.”

Jeff lowered his sunglasses to look at you. "A lady?"

You shot him a mock glare. "Put a cork in it, Morgan." He snickered and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Pedro glanced up, his expression one of mock-surprise. “What do you need me for?”

“Testing a theory,” you said. “Seeing if you’re Karl’s good luck charm. Ackles is convinced I’m his, but I’m trying to disprove it with science.”

Jared laughed. "Oof. Ackles, you hearing this?"

"Loud and clear," Jensen called without missing a beat, not looking up from the board.

Pedro fell into step beside you with an easy nod. "I’m just here to observe the carnage," he said lightly. "Call it moral support—maybe even strategic sabotage."

“That’s the spirit,” you murmured, lips twitching. “Let’s go rig the board.”

Pedro's mouth tilted into a slow, knowing grin. “What can I say? You're a terrible influence.”

You tilted your head in the direction of the gaming table, a silent signal he picked up on instantly. He moved when you did, matching your pace with a casual familiarity, as if he’d been doing it for years without needing to think twice.

"Thanks," he said lowly once you were out of earshot.

“No problem,” you said. “You owe me, though.”

“Anything specific you have in mind?”

His voice dropped into that deep, velvet register, the one that always felt like a palm sliding down your spine. The last time you heard him speak like that was the other night when he—you stopped that thought in its tracks and quietly cleared your throat.

Not the time. Not the place.

“I’ll think of something,” you replied airily.

“I’m sure you will.”

You tried to sneak a gentle nudge to the seat of his pants with your boot as you walked. He dodged it effortlessly, smirking.

“Nice try.”

You had to stop yourself from sticking your tongue out. You remembered what happened the last time you did that.

“About freaking time,” Jensen said as you both approached. “Thought you were gonna make me forfeit.”

“You dragged me off a perfectly good break. This is on you.” You gestured to Pedro. “And I brought your doom with me.”

Pedro dropped into the chair beside Karl, nodding cordially. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Glad to have ya, mate,” Karl said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jensen narrowed his eyes at you. “You really gonna do me like that?”

You looked him dead in the eye. “Yeah. I’d do you like that. Hell, I’m doing you like that right now.”

He cocked an eyebrow, instantly leaning into the innuendo. “At least buy me dinner first.”

A low snicker came from Karl, who didn’t bother hiding it.

You ignored both of them and sank into the chair between Jensen and Pedro, folding one leg over the other with practiced ease.

Your phone buzzed.

Pedro: "Doing you like that right now"... Huh. I seem to remember you saying something similar the other night on my couch—but you were much bossier.

You stiffened ever so slightly, adjusting your posture rather than reacting outwardly. But your fingers were already moving. You tapped out a reply—letting the words drip slow and deliberate into the silence between you.

You: You didn’t seem to mind... in fact, I think you liked being told exactly what to do. If the way you kept begging for it is any indication.

His phone buzzed, and you saw the subtle shift in his posture as he felt the vibration, glanced down, and brushed his thumb across the screen with studied calm. His throat bobbed with a quick swallow, and he shifted slightly in his seat, fingers tapping once against his leg before stilling—a faint blush creeping just beneath the scruff along his jaw.

Then the bubble appeared—three dots blinking into existence. They vanished. Reappeared. Vanished again.

The quiet little smile pulling at your lips came unbidden, small but satisfied. You knew you’d landed your hit—even without seeing his face. The game might’ve been backgammon, but this? This was checkmate—and you were determined to win.

[ask-missparker]

WandaVision AU - We found wonderland you & I got lost in it 🤍

Pairing: Amelia x Nikolai

Summary: What if 2 Agents of Shield were trapped in a classic all American sitcom created by a old friend? Utter bliss!

Characters mentioned: Marlene, Melissa, Wanda, Vision, Agnes, Mr. Hart & his wife and etc

—

‘It’s Been A Long, Long Time’ played quietly on the radio situated above the sink, just loud enough to be heard over the sizzling pancakes on the frying pan. The humming could be as the women swayed side to side, chuckled at the song being played. Her kitten heels clicked against the hardwood floor, running a finger across her pinned curls.

She looked outside the window, listening into her town with a soft smile. The occasional bark of the house dog could be heard throughout the day as they pranced about the neatly cut grass of the town.

Each house was lined with the most decadent array of flowers around the fence, each petal greeting you as you walked by the uniform bushes. A postcard worthy image to behold.

As she worked around the kitchen, her hands went to smooth down your cream colored apron. She glanced around the clock, with a darling smile. 6:45 on the dot. She placed the pancakes onto two sliver dollar plates and poured herself a glass of morning coffee.

As if on cue, her husband walked and called out, “Honey, I’m ready.” He was fixing his tie, newspaper under his armpit and grin plastered across his face. A silly grin to be correct. He was all dressed up his favorite suit, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips and hummed, “You look lovely this morning.”

“You say that every morning.” She replied.

“Because that’s correct, you always look lovely in the morning.”

“And at night?”

“I can’t say that with straight face, doll.”

“Silly man.”

“You love me for it.”

“That I do.”

The two sat down and ate breakfast, listing the plans for today and hearing the soft hums that played from the radio. Sadly, time was of the hour and not a moment later, resulting in the brunette man to scurry off to work not without lacing a few more kisses on his wife’s face.

“Have a nice day!” She called out from the door.

“I will! And remember we have dinner plans tomorrow night!” He called out, touring the car onto the highway.

She headed back inside, cleaning up the living room as she guided herself towards the magazines on the kitchen table with a smile. The pictures were just dreamy. The nicely tuned housing, the radio in the living room, the tv placed right in front of the couch, the curtains evenly sized for the windows, the coffee table filled with magazines and a flower pot of daisies.

——

She sighed happily at the sight, suddenly hearing a doorbell. Who could possibly ruin her perfectly good morning?

She ran up, stringing her dress and opened the door, “Good morning, how may I help you?”

“Why hello dear, I’m Agnes! Your next door neighbor.” She replied with a smile.

“Next door neighbor? Pardon darling, but my next door neighbors is Marlene and her wife.”

“Oh right! I meant next door neighbors on the other side of the block.”

“Is there anything you need, dear?”

“Yes! I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to meeting our NEW neighbors? They just moved in.”

“I’m rather busy, maybe next time? I have dinner plans to prepare.”

“It would only be just a moment, I promise. Besides everyone in WestView should be welcome with open arms, correct?”

“Correct, let me get my bag.”

She followed Agnes out of the door to their next door neighbors around the block, Ms. Vision.

——

Meanwhile her husband appeared rushing into work, and not a second later! He slid into his chair behind the new man at the office, Vision. But his gaze was quickly brought to the brunette woman sitting next to him with a smile. His best friend his childhood grinned brightly as his hair swift to the side typing on the keys of the typewriter, filling in and out paperwork.

“Morning, Nikolai!” She with a grin, handing her best friend the paperwork for him to fill out.

He took the copy of the work and replies, “Morning! How’d you sleep?”

“Alright I guess? The dog from Mr. Jetsons kept me up all night.”

“That was the dog? I thought it was my stomach growling.”

Both laughed at their banter. That was when their boss, Mr. Hart came in talking with all the men and women at the office building. He remarked, “You remember tonight’s plan, ay Vision?”

The blonde man with glasses, “Huh? Oh yes, sir, Mr. Hart!”

“Good because I like a good meatloaf! Hope your wife can cook just as well.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Hart! My wife is a master in the kitchen.”

The two men talked, it was clear to Marlene and Nikolai that Vision forgot about today. He looked uttered lost, like he had a screw loose or something?

Marlene stood up from her desk and carried herself over to Vision saying, “Hey it’s alright. Mr. Hart just wants to see his employees make good impression.”

“Why yes but what do I do? It’s tonight! I had nothing planed.” Vision admitted, running a hand across his blonde locks.

“It happens to everyone! I remember my first dinner with our boss, I practically fumbled over my words and my wife had to save my skins.”

“Really?”

“Yeah but after a few seconds, I pulled myself together.”

Nikolai chuckled leaned over his desk, “Hey man, don’t sweat it! Just call up your wife and see if there is anything that you can do.”

“Oh yes, right!” He said, dialing his wife waiting for her to pick looking over his shoulder, “And thank you..?”

“Nikolai. And that’s Mar!”

“Thank you. Both of you are too kind.”

“It’s no problem, you’ll get the hang of it.”

——

Amelia and Agnes arrived a Wanda’s household. There were plenty of disagreements, trying to coax Wanda on how an anniversary should be spent with your spouse, playful remarks that had an underlying concern to them. But women laughed, including Wanda who took a liking to both girls. She heard the phones and picked up, realizing it was her husband as she spoke with him. Sending signals for both ladies, to take notes about her plans for tonight.

Agnes left soon enough, leaving Wanda alone with Amelia to get ready.

She was brushing the light redhead hair as she asked, “Amelia?”

“Yes Wanda?” She replied, pinning the curls.

“I heard you say to Agnes you have been together longer than us. How long?”

“Since after the wars ended, my fiancé and his best friend returned home safely. And soon we were hitched.”

“Was it lovely?”

“It was. I remember the look on Melissa’s face seeing her best friends get married. We had our honeymoon and you know the rest.”

Wanda chuckled, “Oh yes I do! My husband didn’t go to the war, he stayed behind to help with performances and engines on machines.”

“That sounds daring.” Amelia chuckled, “I remember my husband returned home a little hurt, he bruised his leg but he was fine. Now we’re married then got our puppy.”

The short redhead spinner around in her chair, “You have pet? You didn’t leave him alone did you?”

“He’s only 6 months old, big boy, and staying with a friend for the weekend.” Amelia explained. 

“Aww that’s sweet.”

“I should get going, bye love!”

“Bye!”

“And remember, share tonight like it’s your last.”

——

Nikolai drove up to house down the block away after work with flowers and knocked on the door.

As they door opened, it revealed a set of glasses, pin up curls and a lovely flared out dress.

“Aww for me?” She asked in a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “No Mel. Theses are my wife, yours is coming home later with a surprise for you.”

“Ooh can’t wait! And someone is excited to see you.”

“Where is he?”

In came a strong pair of footsteps hurrying out the door to face his owner. Arrow barked and wagged his tail as Nikolai ruffles behind his ears and kiss his furry face, causing Arrow to lick his own. Melissa chuckled and pats the very dog on top of his head before asking how are things at home with the misuses as he repiled ‘As good as ever.’

With that he left waving at his friend was the same time Marlene arrived home herself. Perfect timing.

~~~~

The man of the hour arrived home with the barking joy following him, knowing his wife had no idea of the little surprise as he held up flowers in the other hand. Walking across the the doorway into the living room, he met the frame of his wife reading a magazine humming with a smile.

He chuckled, reaching over setting his suitcase on the floor with a small thud that catches anyone’s attention. It caught her attention, as she looked up to see her husband and dog.

She chuckled getting up from the couch leaning into to kiss her husband with a soft smile. He gladly returned the kiss reaching down to wrap his hand around her waist, as Arrow stood in-between them barking as if to say ‘I’m here too! Pay attention to me’. She rolled her eyes and held Arrow’s face in her hands pressing a kiss his cheek as he wagged his tail as if to say, ‘There’s the sugar!’

“Is that why your home late?” She asked following him into the kitchen to finish stirring up the pasta, she was making for the two of them.

He placed a bowl of doggie food on the floor next to the table and repiled, “I know we both stay away from him for long.”

“You just him to sleep in your bed with us dear.”

“Guilty as charged.”

As they ate dinner, Nikolai remembered what else happened today at work, bringing up the topic of their neighbors again. Having both met the newest couple in WestView today.

He chuckled, “I hope Vision and Wanda are doing alright tonight.”

“What do you mean?” She asked with a curious smile.

“You didn’t know? Mr. Hart is having Vision host a dinner for them tonight. You know to impress his boss and have his job fully secured.”

“No? Tonight is their anniversary, Wanda said it herself. Their was a heart on the calendar.”

“Then Wanda is mistaken because the heart of the calendar was for Mr. and Mrs. Hart.”

“Ohhh…oops?”

“We’ll see on Monday if he gets the job or not.”

Both couldn’t help but laugh, smiling brightly.

~~~

That’s all folks! Tell me what you think?

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos s @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @thecavalrywife @cherrysft and etc

~~

[tellyreviews]

Anupama 13th June 2025 Written Update: Fainting Fits

Anupama 13th June 2025 Written Update: Fainting Fits. Today in Anupama, Of Fasts, Feuds & Fainting Fits: When Drama Meets Devotion. Scene 1: Enter Rahi, Mahi & Khyati – The Holy War Begins Rahi accidentally (or maybe not so accidentally) bumps into Mahi and drops the holy bomb—Vasundhara wants them all to observe the Vat Savitri fast. And of course, Mahi, already carrying her weight in emotional baggage, doesn’t take this news well. Khyati, ever ready to stir the pot, lashes out at Rahi for allegedly trying to make Mahi jealous by dressing like it’s the Met Gala instead of a puja. She even throws in a classic guilt trip about Rahi celebrating her birthday while Mahi was apparently in mourning mode. But Rahi’s not one to take this lying down. She fires back saying she doesn’t need to flaunt her devotion. Meeta jumps in like a true peacemaker, asking Khyati why she’s breathing fire when all Rahi and Pari did was get ready for a puja. Mahi, meanwhile, plays the sympathy card but in reverse—saying she doesn’t want anyone’s pity. She drops the ultimate soap-line: "Anupama and Rahi always snatch my happiness." Drama level: 9000. Mahi storms off sobbing, and Rahi refuses to go to the temple. Honestly, this puja's getting more dramatic than a breakup in a Karan Johar film. Scene 2: Anupama – The Accidental Healer Anupama, still deeply entrenched in her own ocean of nostalgia, sees women doing the Vat Savitri fast and immediately thinks of Anuj (because of course she does). Just when you're about to question how long she��ll keep carrying his memories like unpaid bills, bam!—a man named Nilesh collapses mid-puja. Superwoman Anupama rushes in, channeling both Florence Nightingale and Devi Durga, and prays hard for his recovery. He survives (because duh, heroics), and his wife gives Anupama a gratitude hug. Anu earns yet another medal in her emotional Olympics. Scene 3: Prem & Rahi – Fast Friends Turned Lovers Meanwhile, Prem and Rahi take their pyaar to the next level by breaking each other's fasts. Talk about fasting goals. It's romantic, it’s sweet, and it makes you wonder why they even had drama earlier. Meanwhile, over on the comedy corner, Raja is suffering from acidity after keeping a fast. Pari roasts him, saying she could fast for 48 hours without flinching (humblebrag alert). Raja tells her to quit talking about her weight, and then they get teased by Rahi and Prem for being an “adorable couple.” Honestly, these four should start a sitcom. Mahi lurks in the shadows, watching the happy foursome like the sad girl in a high school movie. Rahi feels for her (bless her heart), but Prem reminds her to stay focused on her career. Deep down, Rahi blames herself and Anupama for not reaching her dreams. Cue violins. Scene 4: Jaspreet & Bharti – Biscuitgate Unfolds Jaspreet returns home in full sass mode and catches Anupama near her holy stash of biscuits. Gasp! She scolds her like she’s caught her stealing jewels. Bharti tries to calm the storm, but Jaspreet vents about her tyrant boss and randomly asks Anupama if she went to work. The shock on Anupama’s face says it all—uh-oh, secret job alert? Scene 5: Kinjal’s Clutch Move & Anupama’s Emotional Monsoon Just when Leela is this close to discovering Prarthana’s pregnancy, Kinjal swoops in like a true MVP and distracts her. Meanwhile, Bharti and Anupama have a heart-to-heart, but it spirals into Anupama remembering the past and crying—because what is an Anupama episode without at least one cry session? Anupama 13th June 2025 Written Update Precap: Rent Raised, Tempers Higher The landlord ups the rent (as if their lives weren’t stressful enough). Jaspreet confronts Anupama again about her working, and Anupama finally confesses she can't work (Why? No idea yet). Jaspreet, in peak villain mode, tells her to leave the house. Anupama, emotionally exiled yet again, heads to Manohar’s home. Stay tuned to see if he offers her shelter—or more drama. Read the full article

[sailormoonandme]

We need to talk about the Stars Arc Part 3: Stars of a Different Stripe

In addition to the inevitable differences between the manga and anime I discussed in the previous instalment, there are other factors to consider when it comes to the Stars anime.

Perhaps the most significant was the ramifications of the prior season, SuperS. SuperS wrote out the incredibly popular Outer Senshi, pushed Mamoru more into the background, ramped up the comedy and most of all rendered Chibi-Usa as the clear cut main character of the show. Usagi was still present of course, but it was Chibi-Usa who was truly driving the narrative.

It is highly speculated that this direction was driven by a desire to seek out a new, younger audience for the show now that the ‘original generation’ who had tuned into season 1 had gotten older and the show itself had matured. With respect to everyone who likes this season, if this was the plan it did not exactly work out. The new audience did not materialize and many of the existing one were turned off by the new direction.  

The Sailor Stars anime consequently sought to recapture the lapsed audience. The first six episodes of Sailor Stars outright addresses many of the issues that many fans had with SuperS.  

Nehalenia was back so we could redo the ending of the previous arc. The Outer Senshi were back, the first episode practically dedicated to them. Usagi was staunchly the main character with her romance with Mamoru centre stage. Chibi-Usa was present but no longer even a co-protagonist the way she was in R or S. In fact, she returns to the future off screen and is never truly seen again.  

From there, we get into the true adaptation of Stars in which the anime clearly tries to recreate a similar dynamic to what we had with the Outer Senshi in S. We also however, get Seiya and Usagi’s romance, which is framed (at least initially) as somewhat similar to Usagi and Mamoru’s early season 1 encounters where she is annoyed by him. Seiya is even dressed a little bit like Season 1 Mamoru and had his musical cue to boot. The monsters-of-the week were also (like the Rainbow Crystal Youma before them) humans transformed into monsters when a magic jewel was extracted from their body. They were similarly defeated when Usagi uses a healing technique upon them.  

Over all, it is plainly clear that the anime was trying to win back old viewers by returning to something successful and familiar from the past. This categorically NOT the narrative intention behind the Stars manga.  

The manga had not sought a new audience in the Dream arc and it was not seeking to win back anyone in Stars. On the contrary, the Stars arc acts as a ‘darkest hour’ for Usagi. The entire story revolves around tearing her world apart; indeed, that is practically Galaxia’s entire plan.

In a sense, this happens in the anime too, but again they had a different audience and a different goal in mind. If they were trying to win back their audience, ripping out Usagi’s heart routinely wasn’t a great idea, especially the more explicitly comedic anime. Regardless of the target demographic of Stars, the Sailor Moon anime had always had a strong comedy/sitcom bent to it (more so than the manga had truth be told) and so it was something viewers had come to expect out of the show. Even S, the darkest season of all, had A LOT of comedy and gags.  

So, Mamoru still died but the anime could not have pragmatically have had Usagi been in deep denial for like 20 episodes/5 months. Nor could they have had her distraught over the steady deaths of her friends or be desperate to rescue them throughout the whole season.

Not only would this have been extremely difficult to work Sailor Moon’s signature comedy into, but it would have been antithetical to Stars mission statement of reconstructing the series in the wake of SuperS. More importantly, seeing that every week for months on end would have been uncomfortable and depressing. The manga told that story across 11 chapters in monthly instalments, giving the audience a chance to mentally decompress after each the angstbus that was that arc.

Not to mention, it would have been ratings suicide to sporadically kill off the Senshi across the season. SuperS suffered for the absence of the Outer Senshi, how would the audience have reacted to the removal of the protagonists of the previous 4 years? How would all those Sailor Mercury fans have reacted to their favourite character being absent for a massive chunk of the show? The only alternative way to accurately adapt the mang would have been to have generated shittons of filler and then just tell the Stars arc episode by episode, with no filler.  

This would have been an even more extreme version of my Dark Kingdom example from the previous part of this essay series. Effectively the anime would have had to write an entire season/year’s worth of content to allow Takeuchi to get far enough ahead. The anime didn’t have the time or money for that in general, let alone after SuperS had not panned out.  

The ONLY reasonable thing for them to do was to do what they had always done: take the core ideas and themes of Takeuchi’s story and extrapolate their own story from them, syncing it up with the established tone, characterisations and narrative approach they had firmly established across 4 seasons.

[jjuzoir]

Homare Arisugawa General HCS

request: “Hi Sora! I never see any art/writing for my boy Homare from A3! (Maybe because his dialogue is so ridiculous.) Would you mind writing something for him?” from tlali

a/n: ahhh i don’t think i’ve ever taken so long in a request jdjdndnd but i just wanted to make it right because i love homare so much❕ he deserves everything and more i just HDHSJJA we need more homare love 🤬 his dialogue is hilarious and i feel like we need to appreciate his style more no more homare slander 🙅

word count: 1667

- He smells like earl gray tea. No one knows why since he uses unscented soaps, he says it’s probably because he spends most of his time drinking or around tea.

- He’s very particular about his hair, he uses very specific shampoos and conditioners that he will absolutely not share or change unless he notices his hair needs it. Talking about his hair, it’s naturally kind of dry so he uses a lot of hydrating products which leaves him with the softest, most fluffy hair ever. It’s like touching a cloud.

- One of his favorite gifts given to him is a tie given to him as a birthday gift by his members. Everyone pitched it, including Izumi, and Azuma picked it out. It’s black, much like his everyday tie, but it’s got a small embroidered snowflake.

- He’s got three main pairs of glasses; his everyday ones he keeps at hand when he goes out, his at home ones which are (according to him) less flattering, and his driving ones. Keep in mind he can’t drive, he doesn’t even own a car.

- He can speak french and latin, and he’s super loud about it too. He’ll sometimes slip in french phrases and no one will understand other than Chikage and it’s just a mess - Muku is always so amazed that he knows two other languages too and probably asks him to teach him sometime.

- Definitely has the prettiest handwriting when it comes to the roman alphabet, he writes in ink and with fancy pens that cost more than Banri’s tuition.

- Absolutely has a bunch of business cards printed out, each with its own quote made by him. Sakyo thought it was such a waste printing them until he realized that no matter how many Homare took when he went to run errands he always gave them all, to whom? No one knows.

- He’s very well respected in the literary community, which still shocks pretty much everyone. He gets stopped often by fans or people who’ve read his work, it happens at least once a day and Izumi really doesn’t… she doesn’t understand, poor girl.

- He’s not that good with phone calls, he’s not bad but he definitely prefers texting or just talking face to face. To him there’s just a certain level of discontent he doesn’t like that doesn’t exist in other mediums.

- His favorite shows are either comedies or heavy hitting detective shows, there is no inbetween. You’ll walk in on him watching a sitcom leave the room and walk in on a serial killer chase down.

- About his love for detective shows, his favorite pastime is trying to solve the mysteries with the main character. He’ll rewatch the episode so many times to try and pick up clues, he’ll take notes and come to a conclusion and he loves the feeling of getting it right.

- In the same spirit as the statement above, absolutely got Tsumugi and Sakyo hooked on some of his favorites and they hang out to talk about the latest episodes and the overarching mystery. The conversations can tend to get kind of heavy very quick, more than once Muku thought they were investigating a real crime and almost fainted.

- He looks like he’s probably allergic to wool sweaters, they make his skin itch and he always needs to use a shirt underneath them - so he tends to buy those expensive anti-allergic ones that need to be washed in a very specific way that could probably pay Tsuzuru’s whole college debt and it takes a lot of restraint from the playwright not to steal one and sell in the black market.

- Talking about Tsuzuru, he often gives him writing advice. Said advice tends to be very useful, like keeping a pen and notebook on him in case anything comes to mind during the day or writing daily to help ease him into a style, etc. Homare genuinely wants him to bloom into a writer and is willing to beta-read anything Minagi needs, be it a script or a sleep deprived rambling about the gay subtext in Nocturnity.

- Arisugawa sets himself reading goals each month, he likes to read at least one book. He prefers poetry books or classic english literature, but he also likes to read romance books or really bizarre dystopian novels.

- Has read more books than most people in the company and can give very detailed recommendations if you give him like a day.

- Sings operas in the shower, unless stopped he will keep going until the second act. Surprisingly good falsetto, but one time Tenma thought it was a Banshee for a second and almost cried into Juza’s chest.

- He’s not only an overly emotional drunk but also a loud drunk, he’s already quite loud but when he’s downed half a bottle of wine and a shot of vodka he’s louder than the Summer Troupe combined. Because of this, Izumi tends to restrict his alcohol intake when they’re at the dorm.

- I can see him being very big into musicals, not all musicals but a very specific niche; classic horror novels turned into musicals. He’s a very big fan of both the German and Korean versions of Dracula, his favorite song is probably “Zu Ende” or the Korean version of “It’s Over”. He also likes the Frankenstein musical too, but overall he finds Junsu’s Dracula more interesting thus his preference.

- He will talk your ear off if you mention any musical though, be it a classic like Phantom or something newer like Heathers.

- A very big fan of Ghibli movies, he told me so himself today. He really likes Spirited Away though, it’s a movie he’s watched so many times but he’s still completely enamoured by it; he probably has made the Winter Troupe watch it at least once and Hisoka definitely knows the beginning of the movie by heart now.

- Homare is also really good at drawing, not like Kazunari but he’s probably the second best. He learned by analyzing and looking at artists he admired and picking up on their techniques. A true Renaissance Man™️.

- I feel like he’d also have a bunch of skills that are kind of, useless? He can probably carve wood and make candles, he also took a course in glass blowing probably. Arisugawa just wants to try everything at least once, his motto is probably to explore and learn as much as possible, not just about art but the world (he can be surprisingly smart if you have a dictionary at hand).

- Very observant, just in general. Which can be both good and bad, it’s good because it helps him understand the situation in ways others might not but it leads to him to sometimes overthinking things and behaving in manners which may annoy or hurt others.

- He also has a hard time trying to react to social cues, as seen in game, with certain people. While he’s worked it out with the Winter troupe and the Mankai company he still struggles when it comes to new people.

- Will make little tunes he sings in the shower that kind of become a little daily song, each day there’s a new one he’ll hum.

- He also canonly makes music and he makes contemporary electro-pop, you cannot change my mind. He probably also mixes opera and classical music into his tunes, which can go from 1 minute to 10, so you end up with a very cool mix of orchestra and techno-pop - it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but he’s probably got his own niche group.

- Now, into more romantic HCs...

- He’s a good flirt, a very good flirt. They may sound weird looking back at it, but his pickup lines work and they work well.

- He knows when to stop pursuing someone too. He senses even a bit of discomfort and he’s backing away, won’t ask anything. Very big on consent and unless stated absolutely explicitly he’ll keep his distance.

- A true gentleman, please - he’ll never let his dates pay, always open the doors for them, will even do the “walk on the inside of the sidewalk” when he’s walking you home.

- His favorite dates tend to be ones where you get to know more about each other, not always necessarily by talking though. Being able to go into a bookstore and look at the books, seeing the ones you pick, what you pick at a cafe or restaurant, it all helps him draw a better picture of who you are and he likes to think it helps you get to know him better too.

- He’s very in tune with his S/O’s feelings but is afraid of overstepping any boundaries which may lead to some miscommunication at the beginning of the relationship. But it’s workable and it wouldn’t be that big an issue in the long run as long as his partner is willing to help him understand them.

- Not big on PDA, thinks certain things should remain inside - not to say he wouldn’t talk for hours about his partner to anyone who listens but things like kissing or hugs tend to be behind closed doors. He’s okay with hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek though!

- Likes wearing matching outfits with his S/O, thinks it shows how they’re “one in spirit, heart, and mind” and will not stop pointing it out to the point even married couples feel single as they hear him ramble on about the subtle coordination in your color schemes to create a perfect contrast.

- Notices the smallest things like how much sugar you like in your drinks, the telltale signs of when you’re lying or uncomfortable, how you act when you’re too cold or too hot, and learns it by heart.

- Homare is also the kind of boyfriend who’d confront the waiter if they get your order wrong, he’s not ashamed of it either.

- He kind of just wants to make sure you’re doing well and happy, he’s a gentleman.

- Damn… I love him so much

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue, One, Two

WARNINGS ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting, nightmares, grief, blood (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 9, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the sixties, Señor scratchy slander, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Leave A Light On

The dream was always the same.

You would be on a beach, whether it was standing or sitting didn’t seem to matter, and the sun would be perfectly overhead. You were sitting this time, the salt in the air touching your lips as you basked in the warmth the sun provided. The waves crashed in perfect rhythm, and you let out a sigh when the water touched your toes, always warm and refreshing.

You were alone, yes, but you felt at ease.

Every worry and memory would wash away; the pain would drown in the never-ending ocean of happiness, and forgotten in the depths of the unknown. You were, to put it simply, in paradise.

But, like every night before, the waves would stop moving. The sun would go down, darkness would swallow the shore, and left in its place would be a field of glass. The warmth of the water would morph into bitter coldness; warping itself around your ankles and pulling you toward it, your skin would slice open the more you struggled against it, the glass under you stained red with your blood.

It was intense and graphic. The memories would come back in flashes, each one more brutal and heartbreaking then the last.

As your body was plummeted down what felt like miles of suffocating water, you tried to cling on to the memory of your father. You tried to picture him diving down after you, his hands trying to claw at you. You tried to imagine what your mother would look like; body and face blurred together as a ghostly hand reached down toward you.

But, you were alone, and no one going to save you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for my final trick,” Vision pointed the plastic wand at you with a smile and you leaned forward in anticipation. “I bring you the ‘Cabinet Of Mysteries.” You clapped your hands in excitement. A moment passed and you watched as he fumbled a bit, putting his head down with a sigh. “Darling, that’s your cue.”

This morning had been rather eventful, to say the least. Wanda had woken you up with excitement; a cape in hand and tall magician hat atop her head as she revealed her plan for the talent show.

“We need a practice audience.” She giggled, your tired groan making her eyes gleam in mischievousness. “C’mon, Kiddo. I’ll let you in on the secrets.” You had groaned once more, hands pulling at the covers in protest.

“I’m tireeeed.”

The fight was shortly won when Wanda sighed, seemingly in defeat, and walked toward the door. You smiled in content but felt your body be pulled down the bed by invisible hands. She laughed.

“See you downstairs, Kiddo.” Your pillow missed her by a hair.

“Did you say ‘Cabinet of Mysteries’ ?” Which is what brought you here, sitting patiently as you waited for Wanda to be introduced to the “stage”.

“I said, ‘The Cabinet of Mysteries.” Vision flicked the wand again and you watched as a large cabinet, presumably of Mysteries, waddle through the small gap of the stairs.

“Oh, that’s my cue.” Wanda let out a small huff as she pushed it over a snag of carpet.

“Holy Toledo!” It was a rather large box. “Darling, do all the other acts in the talent show have such elaborate props?” You could only barley see the top of her head as she popped out from behind it with a small gasp.

“Are you kidding? Fred and Linda are building a Moet and a fully-functioning portcullises and no one knows why.”

“A Moet!” You can’t help yourself from standing in glee, the excitement that flowed through quickly draining as Wanda looked at you with a small betrayed look. “But this-“ You slapped the door of the cabinet with a goofy smile. “This is a million times better.” She gives you a push to the chair once more.

“Let’s keep going.”

“Oh, yes, yes.” You clasp your hands in your lap and watch as Vision gets back into character. “Where was I? Um....” His eyes sparkle with new found playfulness. “Watch closely as I, Illusion, master of enigma, make my captivating assistant,” Wanda leaps into feign shock and awe. “Glamour, disappear.”

You lean forward, eyeing the inside of the now open cabinet. It all seemed perfectly ordinary; but you were sure if you squinted hard enough, a crack or something would be found within the edges.

How do they do it

Wanda gives a small wink to you as she steps into the small box, her gaze now on her husband.

“You really are very dashing.”

“Mm, thank you, darling.” He closes one of the doors and turns quickly to the other. “Fear not, Glamour.” He turns to you. “For I, Illusion, vow to bring you back exactly as you are.” Wanda shudders, hands waving and you concentrate on the cabinet’s now closed doors. Vision winks in mischief, wand slapping the door. “Abracadabra!”

The sight of the now empty cabinet makes you giddy, hands clapping as a smile spreads across your face. As the back spins, the smile turns into a cheeky grin as Wanda claps.

“Yes, um... Wanda, you’re not at all worried that the audience might just see through this little charade?”

“Well, that’s the whole point!” Wanda replied, stepping fully out of the cabinet. “In a real magic act, everything is fake.”

“Isn’t that a little contradictory?” She waved you off, closing the doors with a soft push.

“Darling, the talent show fundraiser is the most important event of the season and it’s our neighbourly duty to participate.” You stand from the chair and pat down your pants with a small sigh.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?” Wanda gives a small smile and waves you off again.

“Oh, wait!” You turned to her with curiosity. “Would you be a dear and move this back?” She pushes the edge of the cabinet toward you and you nod.

“Sure.” You say, “I can’t wait to see the show!”

Turns out it was a lot heavier then it looked; you wanted to rip out the carpet every time you hit a bump, a groan leaving your mouth as you pushed harder.

Now I’m really thirsty

You couldn’t help but give one of the wheels a swift kick, a satisfied grin on your face as you grabbed a glass from the kitchen. The window above the sink was open and goosebumps raised on your arms as the breeze settled on your skin. You filled the glass halfway and the sound of the front door closing fluttered into the kitchen.

“Seems like it’s just us now, Kiddo!” Wanda called from the living room. You didn’t bother turning as she entered, gulping down the icy water as she fiddled around. You both fell into a calm silence; her humming a tune as she wiped down the table and you refilling the glass with water three more times before finally feeling satisfied. You must have been really, really, really thirsty.

A loud thud startled you both, the peaceful bubble popping as you glanced at each other with mutual confusion.

“What was that?” Wanda shakes her head, eyes wide as she reached the door.

“I-I don’t know.” Outside was quiet, birds chirping happily as the wind rippled through your clothes. “You see anything?”

The roses

Your feet marched forward, eyes fixated on the burning bright object atop them. It was something you had never seen before; painted in colours you never even knew existed, and as you reached forward, fingertips inches away from it, you had to steady yourself when Wanda snatched your wrist.

“Don’t.” You listened and stepped away as she held it up in confusion.

S.W.O.R.D

“Look, it’s the star of the show!” Agnes’ voice startles you both, a gasp leaving Wanda’s mouth as the object falls by her feet.

“Agnes.” You both pushed it out of your memory, focusing on the cheery woman before you. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Oh, I brought my pet rabbit.” She held the cage up with a proud smile, said rabbit glances your way. “For you magic act.”

“Yes, of course! Thank you, Agnes.” Wanda hands you the cage and you try to hide the disdain for the fluffy creature inside, it’s eyes too wide for your liking. “We will take good care of him.”

“Señor Scratchy just loves the stage. He played baby Jesus in last year’s Christmas pageant.” Her bragging is playful and she gives you a pat on the back as you turn down the walkway, trying to get away from the rabbit as quickly as possible. “Don’t worry, Kiddo. He has a soft spot for the younglings.”

You have to stop yourself from throwing it inside.

———

“So, are you ready to meet Queen Cul de Sac and her Merry Homemakers?” Agnes asked with a smile, you all laughing as you stride down the path. You and Wanda were either side of the brunette, elbows linked as she took the lead.

“Agnes, Dottie can’t be as bad as you say.” Wanda replied making her hum.

“Well, you’ll notice her roses bloom under penalty of death.” You both scoff in response. Agnes was rather dramatic and as she pulled away from you both, a look of seriousness etched across her features, you knew it was something you had to get use to.

“Wanda, can I give you a bit of friendly advice?”

“Is it about the way I’m dressed?”

“Yes, but it’s too late for that.” You were finally not on the bad side of fashion, thank God. “Dottie is the key to everything in this town.” She said. “Country club memberships, parties, school admissions...”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Your friend replies with a dismissive chuckle.

“You get in with Dottie and it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. Just mind your P’s and Q’s and you’re gonna do just fine.” You felt the prickle of a thorn, one of many that surrounded the stem of the rose in your hand. You weren’t really paying much attention to the two women in front of you, tugging one off the bush when Agnes pulled you with them from Wanda’s.

“Or maybe I could just be myself?” Wanda suggested as the rose fell to your feet. “More or less?” Agnes was quick to dismiss her, the laugh making your stomach turn in knots. You rubbed your fingers together, smearing blood between two digits from the small wound.

“Oh, Wanda.” She said. “That’s good.”

Soon enough the ladies wondered out of the house, Dottie leading them down the path as they carried various items for the day behind her. You said nothing as Agnes greeted them, hands waving wildly as they passed. Wanda let out a sigh of nervousness and grabbed on to your arm.

“Here goes nothing, Kiddo.” You made sure to dig your shoe into the fallen petals as you followed.

———

The meeting was - in the nicest way possible - the most boring thing you had ever attended. It was filled with toxicity, gossip and ice tea, and you were miserable. Why on earth did you ever agree to this? You couldn’t remember, but as Dottie droned on about food and dress code and “Mary, I told you not to do this and that”, you imagined soundly sleeping in your bed.

When will this be over

“The Rotary club is finishing the stage set-up as we speak-“ The woman, Beverly, spoke and you were forced back into the moment as Dottie dropped a sugar cube into her tea. “They’ve given the gazebo a fresh coat of paint and will be installing the final decorations all through the town square.” Her enthusiasm was genuine and you couldn’t help but listen, it was simply contagious. “And if you recognise the antique footlights,it’s because they’re from my store.” Unfortunately you had to watch as the sunshine that was Beverly was trampled by the lioness beside her, stirring her tea.

“And the chairs?”

“I’m sorry, Dottie.” She tried not to tremble. “I didn’t ask about the chairs.”

“So you better not ask me if you can chair-“ She leaned forward and you had to dig your nails into your chair to stop from twitching. “-any committees in the future.” The women laughed and Beverly, still trying to be composed took a seat. “The devil’s in the details, Bev.”

“That’s not the only place he is.” You were thankful for the witty distraction, but waved Agnes off regardless.

“As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary-“ You glance over when Agnes nudges you with a twinkle in her eye, dropping warm syrup into your tea on the table from her flask.

“I couldn’t.” You whisper but she was quicker then you, raising your glass to your mouth, even dropping a sugar cube in for good measure.

“Trust me.” She murmured. “It’s sweet.” Agnes always had a way with words, and you were sure it must’ve at least tasted a little better then the cider from before. You took the drink from her and smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you.” Agnes winked and took a bite from one of the many cookies being handed out.

It was extremely sweet, so much in fact that you swore you felt your teeth ache as you swallowed down the tea. You weren’t much of a sweet tooth; more of a salt kind of gal, but the tea was one hell of an exception, and when she wiggled her flask teasingly, you couldn’t help but stick your hand out for more.

The minutes flew by and you were having a ball, eating cookies and clapping when the other did. Dottie had turned into background noise and at one point you even found yourself laughing along with the women at one of her jokes. Soon enough, one by one, the women bid their dues, kissing cheeks and sharing hugs and you were the next to go after Agnes.

“Wanda!” Dottie’s voice echoed through the lounge area and you sighed. “Why don’t you help clean up, hmm?” You knew it wasn’t a question and when Wanda gave you a small pleading look, you started to gather the plates nearest you onto a now empty tray.

Who knew how many cookies a small group of women could eat! You alone picked up ten or so tiny plates off the various tables, and you didn’t even bother counting the glasses. Finally - as Dottie droned on and on with “tips” , you put the last of the plates and cups onto the bench, Wanda letting out a groan of her own as she did the same.

“Golly, you’re a whiz at all the committee stuff, Dottie.” She gushed, two cookie holders in her hand as she smiled. “Thank you for choosing me to help you clean up today. I feel so lucky.”

“You are.” Dottie replied. You rolled your eyes, and grabbed one of the cookies, bitting into it to stop from commenting.

“I can’t help but wonder if you and I haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie. And I would like to correct that if I can.” You could never understand Wanda’s need to fit in, especially with people like ‘perfectly blonde’ Dottie.

“And how would you do that?” Wanda chuckles nervously, hand patting her hair as you try to look busy. This wasn’t a battle you were too interested to participate in.

“I’ve heard things about you,” She stands, tall and suffocating as her eyes harden. “You and your husband.” She scoffs at the sight of you. “Even your little... friend.” You let the cookie crumble between your fingers.

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve been told.” Wanda edges closer as your round the table, always two steps behind her, it seemed. “But I assure you I don’t mean anyone any harm.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Wanda.

You taste the salt on your tongue, waves crushing over the horizon as you try to catch your bearings.

Wanda, can you read me, over?

The sand is warmer then usual, almost burning, but you push through it when you see her.

Wanda.

She lets the water slam against her feet, back toward you as she watches the sunset in the distance. Her baby blue towel around her shoulders protecting her from the wind.

“Who is that?”

The wind picks up; you watch as her towel floats away from her, carried into sea and she shivers.

“Who are you?”

She disappears into the waves and you watch as the ocean swallows the sand by your feet, knowing that soon you’d join her.

Wanda? Who’s doing this to you?

The sound of Dottie’s glass smashing makes you jump, eyes wide as shards fall from her palm. Dripping down with it the same colour from before, bright and burning.

“Dottie!” Wanda gasps, having to stop her hands from reaching forward as the woman scoffs. “You..” She moves past you toward the closest table, her hands quickly wrapping the napkin around Dottie’s hand when she returns.

“Pop quiz, Wanda.” The blonde stops her with her undamaged hand and you try to swallow down the dread inside of you. “How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen?” Wanda didn’t know what to say. “By doing it herself.”

———

Morning soon turned into afternoon, the sun beating down as you listened to the piano music playing behind you. After Dottie; Wanda had steered her focus completely onto the talent show, trying desperately to perfect everything down to what stockings to wear.

You weren’t much help.

But when you reached the town square you were thankful for her new friend. Geraldine was everything you had hoped Agnes to be. She was smart, funny, charming, even had amazing style and as Wanda paced back and fourth, trying not to panic about the sudden disappearance of her husband, she proved to be a great distraction.

“Glad I don’t have to follow this guy.” She giggled, eyes gleaming as she watched the dancers on stage.

“Huh, what?” Wanda was overwhelmed to say the least.

“Oh, but you’re going to be great!”

“Yes,” You added with a smile. “No one’s even thought about doing magic.” Wanda shuddered, moving to the corner with heavy breaths. “I mean, you know, cause... it’s just so hard to do!” You weren’t sure how to calm her down, choosing instead to step off the small stage and pace by the stairs.

“What time is it now?”

“Mmm, two minutes after the last time you asked.” You stop pacing, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth when you see the familiar man walk - well stumble - into view.

“I don’t know where he could be.”

“Vision!” You gasp. “Thank heavens, we were worr-“ His body practically fell atop of yours, the railing of the steps being the only thing to keep you up as he slides off you with a grumble.

“Sorry, Kiddo.” He slurred. You didn’t have much time to respond as he fell backward again, your hands reaching up his back to stop him from crushing you. “Sorrryyyy”

“Are you alright, Vision?” You grunted, finally able to push him upright. He said nothing, choosing instead to focus on getting up the stairs with his fingers gripped tightly on each side of the banister. He fortunately made it up without further incident.

“Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!” He gritted, a loud grumbling - loud enough to be heard from your place on the stairs - from his stomach made Wanda panic somehow, even more.

“Vis,” She said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Where have you been?” You slowly made your way back on stage, making sure to stay near the railing in case he fell once more.

“Uh, well, me and the boys were playing a rather thrilling game of horses with shoes.” He grinned to himself, body swaying. “No, that’s not it...Shoe Horses! No.” She eyed you from behind him but you were just as confused as she. “Ah! Horse’s shoes.”

“Listen, something strange happened with Dottie.” She beckoned you over as she continued. “Well, something strange happened before that, too. It’s hard to explain. I...”

“I was just playing with his shoes!” You followed his pointing finger and watched as a person in a horse costume walked past, cowboys and cowgirls surrounded them.

How’d I miss that act

“What is going on!?”

“You are!” You all turn to Geraldine, clip board in hand.

“Okay, okay...” Wanda pointed to you. “Kiddo, go find your seat.” You point to the drunk toddler of a man besides you and she sighs. “I’ll handle it.”

You don’t have to be told twice, the fear of being crushed for the third time was greater then any concern you may have had over said man’s wellbeing. So, with a final push from Wanda, you crossed over to the front of the stage and made your way to a familiar brunette.

“Agnes.” She looks up with a grin.

“Hiya, Kiddo.” Agnes pats the chair next to her. “Take a seat.” You nod in gratitude and sit. Dottie says her speech, head to toe styled to perfection as she introduces the couple.

Wanda is the first to go, hands gripping the curtain as she eyes the crowd. She radiates chaos but is quick to put on a show. She smiles, surprisingly bright as she walks down to centre stage, arm stretched as she waits for Vision to enter.

The curtain remains closed a moment too long, long enough for Dottie to roll her eyes and for Agnes to sigh sadly. You guessed it was rather fortunate for him to finally barrel through the curtain, arms wide and a little too confident for a man who only moments ago found it troublesome to stand up straight.

“Hello, Westview! Good afternoon. It’s so lovely to be-“ You cringe as he stumbles to the side, railing digging into him. “I’m so sorry. Excuse me.” Maybe this was just a false start?

“I’m Glamour and this is my delightful assistant, Illusion.” Maybe not.

“I am Glamour.” Wanda corrects, waving her hands dramatically. “And He’s Illusion.”

“Yeah, what she said.” Vision, always the gentleman. “Today, we will lie to you and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled due to their limited knowledge of the inner workings of the universe.” You didn’t miss the way her smile dropped, confusion and panic mixing together was never a good idea. “Flourish!”

Wanda whispers something to him but Vision simply scoffs and stumbles away with a dismissive hand behind him.

“And now my wife and I will delight in your dumbstruck little faces. Flourish!” No one had time to be offended, mouths agape as Vision simply started to levitate. You didn’t have to look at her to know that Wanda was just as shocked as the rest of you.

Luckily, for Vision, his wife was rather quick on her feet as it only took a second for a rope to appear behind him, her moving a sign away to real the lever as the audience laughed.

“Wanda, what’s- Oh, no!” Vision kicked around, trying desperately to get back to the floor as Wanda played with the leaver. “Ah! No! Wanda, please! Darling, let me down!”

“Oh.” Agnes breathed beside you, purse clutched in her hand. You could feel the tension of the table, the nervous giggle she made as Vision was finally back on his feet. But you didn’t say anything, afraid you might take away the ‘magic’ of the small respite. So you simply clapped along with the others, ahhing and oohing with the rest as he stumbled once more.

“Oh! Yeah this is... this is gonna be great!” He said as he made his way to the piano’s side, trying to keep the cape away from his arms. “A staggering feat of strength!”

Oh, boy

He lifted with ease, only with one hand just to make it worse and you could feel the tension rise once more in the audience. Vision didn’t seem to notice the shift, of maybe he didn’t care, you couldn’t tell.

“Illusion!” Wanda gasped, the rope forgotten as she tried think. “Illusion, Master of Enigma, allow me.” She took quick strides, hands grabbing the now two dimensional piano from the grumbling magician. She made sure to show off the small handle behind the cardboard, shimmying her shoulders teasingly. “Whoops! You weren’t supposed to see how we did that trick.”

They all clapped again, seemingly too entertained to question things.

“Oh, Sherbert!” Vision called suddenly. “Yeah, this is my old mate, Sherbert.” His top hat is forgotten on the top step, as his body sways down to said friend.

“Stand up, Sherbert.” He slurred. “Say hello to the crowd.”

“It’s Herbert, Herb.” His friend corrects, hands awkwardly at his sides as he tries to play along.

“Pipe down, Sherbie, and pick a card.” Vision lets the cards spread across his hands like a fan. “Any card.” Herb obliged and gingerly took one from the middle. “Yeah, put it back in the deck.”

Again, Herbert played along, putting the card into the deck which was now behind Vision’s back. He turned and shuffled, a smug look on his face as he displayed one proudly for his friend to see.

“Is this your card?”

“Uh, no.” That revelation was the start of a rather bizarre standoff between the two, Vision going through each card, throwing them to the ground to every shake of Herbert’s head while Wanda tried to get him to stop.

“Is this your card?” He asked a final time, the last card of the deck in his hand.

“Oh, it is!” He replied.

“It is what?”

“It’s my card.” Vision was quick to get defensive, for... some reason. You weren’t really sure.

“Well, pardon me, Herb.” He said before pushing the card onto his friends chest. “Have it back.”

“Oh, no. You did the trick right.”

“Well, of course I did the trick right! I’m Illusion!” There seemed to be no right way to calm down the blond toddler in a cape, as he stumbled back to the stage, doing a quick and rather sloppy bow. “Flourish!”

While you knew it was anything but planned, the audience clapped and laughed. It was pretty funny from an outsiders perspective; but knowing how unstable he had become, how unpredictable, you might as well have been trembling next to Wanda on the stage.

“And now, for my next trick....” How long was this going to be? You were left to sigh as Vision scrambled around for his hat, the same one that was directly behind him. “Who stole my hat?” His shouting seemed to have startled the white rabbit - which had been hiding - and you watched as it hopped away from said accessory.“Oh! Oh, stop that Rabbit! I gotta pull a hat out of it.” Wanda ignored his whining, letting the animal rest in her hands.

“Señor Scratchy’s got real star quality.” Agnes pipped up from beside you, a prideful grin on her face. “Don’t you think?” You hummed.

“Well...” You replied. “He did play Jesus.” She smacked your arm playfully in response.

“Maybe we leave the poor bunny out of this one, shall we?” Wanda smiled, giving the pet a quick cuddle before putting it back into its cage.

“Well then.” Vision grumbled as he finally got back on stage, hat in hand. “I will just have to pull this hat... out of myself.” The audience gasped, as did you, but for more of a “Oh no, he’s going to do something” kind of way. Wanda couldn’t reach him in time and she was left to watch in horror as the hat slipped through him easily.

“If only you knew our secret.” She laughed dryly, hand flickering quickly as her husband swayed. Mirrors appeared from the back of the stage, the curtains falling to their respective sides as the audience laughed and clapped yet again.

These were some very easily fooled people, thank the heavens.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our grand finale.” Oh, finally! “I bring you, The Magnet of Crysteries!”

“The Cabinet of Mysteries.” Wanda corrected, pushing along the familiar wooden cabinet. From the sigh she made, you knew the feeling was mutual.

Let’s get this over with

“Yeah, yeah, what she said.” Vision turned it to face the audience, the tall doors in view as the couple stood on each side. “I will now make my wife...disappear.” You can hear the whispers of excitement buzz around you like bees. The trick was simple enough, and didn’t even need Vision to do anything but close the doors!

And he did! Only... Wanda didn’t get inside the said cabinet beforehand.

“Are you sure you don’t want an audience volunteer named “My husband Ralph”?” Agnes shouts with her signature snark and grin, the women around her giggled.

Oh, Agnes.

She even made Vision laugh, a look at his wife making him frown.

Right he must’ve thought, the trick

“Abracadabra!” He let the wand smack the side of the cabinet, seemingly forgetting the most important rule of the box. Wanda cleared her throat, a small smile on her face when he let out a small “Oh.”

There needed to be someone in the box first.

“What’s in the box?” A small sing-song question from Herbert soon turned into a loud chant, the tables be thumped by fists as they all sang.

What is in the box? Maybe Wanda, being the quick thinker she always is, transported that obnoxious rabbit into it? You wouldn’t know until the doors opened. Luckily you didn’t have to wonder too much; for rather the first time that afternoon, Wanda and Vision were in sync, both opening their respective sides of the cabinet, and the once empty space was now the holding place of a confused Geraldine, clipboard still in the hand.

She stepped out, knees wobbly as the crowd soared with applause. The couple grabbed her hands and pulled her down to a shared bow. Agnes seemed to be the most pleased.

“That was magnificent.” She said. “Just amazing! Don’t you think, Kiddo?”

“It was... something!” You don’t let her respond, already standing as the trio on stage disappears off stage. “How about I get Señor Scratchy for you?” She nods.

“Why yes, dear. Thank you!”

You ignore Dottie on stage, her speech and the applause being nothing more then loud static as you reach the back of it. He seemed to be sleeping soundly in his cage, the white fur making it seem as though he’s a rather large marshmallow. He even looked a little cute. But when you touched the handle and those large, red eyes stared you down, you remembered why you hated him.

“Time to go home, you little...” You grimaced when he did a small hop. “Rodent.” Agnes met you halfway, hands outstretched for said rodent’s cage.

“Thank you, dear.” You smiled politely.

“No problem.” You watch her leave, not before sending a final wave, and focus your attention on the crowd, trying to see the familiar top hat and cape.

“You two!” Dottie calls, the applause ending as you all train your gaze to where she points. “Stop right there.” They do, Wanda having to drop her hand from the hat atop her head to see the familiar blonde.

“Nothing like what you two just did up here has ever happened in the history of our talent show.” She explains while Vision can’t help but look down in shame.

“Dottie.” Wanda sighs. “We are so -“

“Hilarious.” Dottie scoffs and you can’t help letting in the swell of relief that filters through you. “That was the most hilarious act we’ve ever seen.” She turns to the audience once more. “Wouldn’t you all agree?” They clap - you joining in of course - and you watch as they are beckoned up on stage.

“On behalf of the planing committee, I would like to award you with the inaugural Comedy Performance of the Year.” Wanda giggles, saying thanks as she gingerly takes the small trophy form her hands. Geraldine is given a small push from Vision, grinning all the same and the trio take a another shared bow as the applause fills your ears.

“For the children!” A man shouts and you join in on the chant with glee.

“For the children!”

��——

“It was wonderful!” You must have said that the whole walk home, as the two lovebirds just giggled along. “Way better then the moet.” You add as Vision twirls Wanda, the door closing behind you all.

“Well,” You feel the weight of the day suddenly, the bed upstairs calling to you. “I think I’m gonna head up. Goodnight.”

“Kiddo!” Wanda calls and gives you a warm hug when you turn back. “Thank you for being so patient with me. I know I can be a little...”

“Controlling?” You tease and she scoffs playfully. “It’s okay.” She squeezes you one more time.

“Goodnight, Kiddo.”

You bid them both the same, steps slow up the stairs as tiredness fully sets in. Changing is quick and swift, choosing to wear a simple pair of pjs for the night. You stretch one more time, a yawn leaving you as you get comfortable in bed.

In the morning; you will wake to a world filled with bright and burning colour, the same that dripped down Dottie’s hand and the same as the paint on the small toy.

You will dream of the women again, of the crashing waves and warm sun. You will watch her drown once more and you will finally understand why.

But for tonight, and only tonight, you will feel at peace, and sleep will come naturally.

Only for tonight, only for tonight

———

(Tag list, open just ask! You can also leave anytime, just DM)

@y-napotat @white-wolf-buckaroo @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey @simsiddy @quietly-scrolling-through @mothsnsyrup @i-love-superhero @jdogjdyke @tonystanktheirondad @selluequestrian

A/N

Gasp! Where did lady Jabbagabba go? You may be asking, and well I, cried, slept, ate Taco Bell, cried again, read half of ‘A little life’, sobbeduntil I felt dead inside, tried to find out what kind of cake I would be, slept, had a mental breakdown after eating an entire tray of cookies, and, you guessed it, cried.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With F (2) Masterlist

Links last checked: June 11th, 2025

part one

Fake House Of Cards (ao3) - quesalpha

Summary: Dan Howell is an actor on a ever growing popular soap opera and Phil is a writer for a sitcom. they’ve been friends with benefits since they were 15. one day Dan gets a knock on the door that changes his and Phil’s life and relationship forever.

Falling Flat - the-squirrel-queen

Summary: Dan is a pianist. A recent graduate from Juliard, he finds himself at a job playing music for school children. Phil is a music teacher at said school. They have a rather interesting relationship in class. A rather flirtatious relationship. The children see the interactions between the two and begin to wonder if they are in a relationship. Soon, a work relationship blooms into a romantic one through a love of music and each other.

False Hope - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan is determined to find a wanted outlaw to bring back honor to his father’s business; Phil, a wanted outlaw, steals from Dan’s father’s business to pay off a debt; the mess of revenge that comes along with it; and why each side of the story matters. (Taken place in 1860 America, if you don’t mind.)

Favorite Record (ao3) - jfcmartin

Summary: Phil’s most treasured memories are the times he had spent with his childhood best friend, Dan. Unfortunately, Dan doesn’t remember it just as much because of an accident two months after he moved away. Phil is determined to help him bring back his memories, winding up making new ones in the process.

Fearfully and Wonderfully - sylvesterlestermanchester

Summary: Dan wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to experience when he starts his first semester at Uni, but he was pretty sure an incredibly sheltered Catholic boy stealing his heart wasn’t on his list of typical college tropes.

Fell In Love With You From The First Note - doomedhowell

Summary: Phil has always been entranced by the piano covers uploaded by howell music on YouTube, it was a daily routine of his to play covers of his favorite ghibli songs while getting ready in the morning. Imagine his shock when he finds the pianist sat in next to him in his English Class…

Fight Or Flight - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Dan and Phil meet on a plane to California in 2012, both travelling for very different reasons. Their paths begin to converge.

Fire On Ice (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: Dan Howell, a professional ice hockey player, fancies the new guy, Phil Lester. The two meet unceremoniously in the physical therapy room, and Dan learns that his feelings are reciprocated. The men are not shy about their growing attraction and enjoy each other in a steamy, semi-public, and unexpected sexual adventure.

First (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Phil is a little nervous about his first time with Dan. Dan is too, but it's hard not to be nervous when they care this much.

Flashes Of Innocence - paradisobound

Summary: Phil Lester was an aspiring photographer, trying to fine tune his skills in a black and white photography class. Cue Daniel Howell, the attractive male that walks in one day and captures Phil’s eyes. But Dan has a small secret, he needs help. He runs a Tumblr blog and he needs someone to shoot his photos for him. But there’s a catch that Phil doesn’t know right away. Dan runs a NSFW porn blog and he’s asking Phil to help him recreate authentic photos.

F L I R T (wattpad) - danandphilgaymes

Summary: Phil is popular: president of his fraternity, shortstop of the baseball team, he’s got it all figured out. But when Phil meets Dan, a flamboyant freshman in the theatre department, everything changes. Despite warnings from their friends, Dan and Phil can’t stay away from each other, but when these two worlds come crashing together, can they find a balance or will their differences pull them apart forever?

for the rest of our lives (ao3) - lyricallyharley, writtennotsung

Summary: “Dan's kept a lot of secrets in his life.

The ring is the biggest one though.”

Every time Dan attempts to ask Phil one simple question, something goes wrong. Perhaps even some of the most important events in his life don’t have to be perfect.

Or alternatively, the five times Dan tries to propose to Phil and the one time he gets it right, although not in the way he expected.

for the first time in such a long time (I know I'll be okay) (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Three conversations in Phil’s bedroom in 2009.

Fortune Cookies (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan gets a fortune cookie and it's been bugging him all day. But he's NOT superstitious. (Dan POV)

Four Hotel Walls (ao3) - watergator

Summary: Dan and Phil are paranormal investigators from the 90s.

Fragments of Stardusters - mairieuxes, athletichowell

Summary: In which they are boring-ass teachers with a boring-ass relationship. In which they are supposed to be history, but then it didn’t look like it.

Friday Is Forever - nagirci

Summary: Fluff.

Frozen Heart - succubusphan

Summary: Dan’s life changed with the seasons. Watch as his world blossoms and starts to shine with love, support and self improvement.

Fuck Away The Pain (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil’s boyfriend cheats on him leaving him a mix of sad, angry, and a million other unidentified emotions.

Luckily Dan was always there for him.

———

“Don’t have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name while I fuck away the pain”

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ ＩＳ ＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

Oh

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.  

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.  

Thank god you're sitting right now.  

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.  

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.  

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.  

No one can change your mind on that.  

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”  

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.  

"Well, they better hurry!"  

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.  

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.  

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING  

It’s just...  

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.  

Uh hello???  

HE’S HOT  

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…  

Do you even think he’s hot???  

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.  

Damn bro  

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…  

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!  

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  

"WE'RE HERE!"  

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.  

Come on!  

THREE 👏  MORE 👏  HOT 👏 GUYS  👏

???  

This can't be real.  

This is literal heaven!  

Gasp!  

Are.  

You.  

DEAD?!  

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.  

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says. 

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.  

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.  

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.  

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.  

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.  

Awww he’s extra cute.  

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.  

“So what are we doing here?”  

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”  

“Yo, who is she?”  

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.  

Ugh you need a massage.  

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.  

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.   

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?  

You scoff hard and loud.  

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.  

Oh honey, you are wrong.  

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”  

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.  

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.  

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.  

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.  

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.  

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.  

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.  

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.  

AND I MEAN A LOT.  

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…  

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.  

…..  

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.  

If ever you were thinking...  

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.  

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.  

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.  

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.  

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.  

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.  

Tae rolls his eyes.  

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"  

"Actually, yes. It is."  

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.  

“Yoongi hyung!”  

Oh great! Another one.  

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.  

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??  

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.  

No no no no no.  

No way!  

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.  

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.  

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??  

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no   

It's like Oprah!  

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!  

OR MAYBE  

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????  

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???   

ARE YOU KIDDING?  

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?  

Thanos? lol.  

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.  

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you   

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.  

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”  

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”  

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”  

Well, can’t argue with that logic.  

The mall is practically your second home at this point.  

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”  

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement... 

Are you missing something here?  

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”  

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.  

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.  

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”  

Yes, again.  

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.  

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.  

But he doesn’t question it.  

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.  

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?  

A CRAP TON.  

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.  

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.  

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.  

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"   

Wow.  

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.  

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.  

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"  

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.  

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".  

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.  

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came. 

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.  

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"  

Jeez FINALLY.  

Something you can talk about that involves you.  

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.  

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.  

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.  

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.  

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞  ]  

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.  

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?) 

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.  

Welp.  

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?   

No???  

Okay fine.  

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.  

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.  

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"  

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."  

ʰᵉʰ  

Ok  

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…  

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."  

"Yeah, it is actually."  

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.  

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.  

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.  

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.  

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.  

God, can someone get you away from this guy?  

What's his problem?  

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.  

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.  

Seokjin snorts loudly.  

Eww.  

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.  

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."  

Everyone laughs to that and again,  

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?  

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"  

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.  

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"  

Ohhh….  

So,  

Does he constantly get fired from a job?  

Well, that's just sad.  

Hopefully you don't end up like him.  

😳  

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"  

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.  

"Uh, what reputation?"  

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.  

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.  

So you were right.  

That's kind of impressive though…  

But a huge waste.  

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"  

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."  

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.  

What's that about?  

It almost looks as if he…  

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"  

"Oh you bet I did."  

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.  

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"  

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.  

Can't he say anything nice?  

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."  

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.  

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."  

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."    

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.  

"I want to hear what he has to say."  

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.  

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.  

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.    

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice  

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.  

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.  

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.  

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him  

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”  

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.  

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”  

"I don't."  

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"  

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."  

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"  

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"  

Huh  

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.  

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.  

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"  

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง  

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.  

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."  

"All of us except Jungkook though."  

Who?  

Oh that extra cute shy boy.  

You forgot he's here.  

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.  

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"   

"That would be so cool!"  

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"  

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"  

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.  

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.  

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)  

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)  

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)  

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )  

In the end, they are all like 

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)  

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  

What the heck is going on?  

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.  

Gasp!  

He can talk???  

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.  

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"  

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"  

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.  

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.  

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.  

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?  

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???  

Oh, you don't like that.  

Seokjin was the first one to react.  

"Dude?? What the hell?!"  

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.  

Makes sense.  

Yeah, sure.  

Why not?  

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???  

…  

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.  

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks   

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.  

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.  

"Yeah. What else?"  

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"  

"Yeah. Why?"  

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.  

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.  

You and Tae look at each other.  

What an epiphany.  

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.  

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"  

They all nod.  

Ughhhhhhh  

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.  

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.  

Could things get any worse?  

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"  

Ha ha 

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"  

Namjoon stands and walks away.  

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.  

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!  

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?  

Code something something.  

Oh whatever!  

Anyways,  

So to summarize things  

You might end up working at an awful low end store.  

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.  

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.  

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.   

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.  

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.   

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!  

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.  

Good luck to you, indeed.   

[myhahnestopinion]

THE AARONS 2020 - Best TV Episode

I had to cancel a lot of streaming services this year. They know what they did wrong. Here are the Aarons for Best TV Episode: 

#10. “Take Your Choice” (Batwoman, Season 1, Episode 12)

Coming out of the Infinite Earths crossover, Batwoman is left with a personal Crisis of conscience: Kate Kane’s efforts to redeem the villainous Alice, her presumed-dead sister, are derailed by the arrival of an alternate-universe version of her, one who didn’t suffer the same traumatic events. Multiverse collapse means only one can live, compelling Kate to choose between fighting a righteous lost cause or taking the easier path back to normalcy, the kind of complex moral dilemma that heroes are forged in. The original Alice is seen as both abuser and victim within, torturing Kate over her own lingering trauma, while fearing a second, far-worse abandonment. This enhanced sibling conflict reinvigorated the season’s second half. It’s unfortunate that dynamic is now lost with the decision to replace, not recast, Batwoman going forward, but, well, a choice had to be made.

#9. “The One Where We’re Trapped on TV” (Legends of Tomorrow, Season 5, Episode 14)

With back-to-back shows on this list, it’s clear The CW’s sweeping interconnected universe is still going strong, but they’re not done conquering the airwaves yet. In their latest bit of meta-mischief, the crew behind the show Legends of Tomorrow flexed their creative freedom and trapped the on-screen crew of Legends of Tomorrow within various television parodies, including Friends, Downton Abbey, and Star Trek. Each is brought to life with expert lived-in details by long-term producer and first-time director Marc Guggenheim. The cast gamely tunes in to the needs of each as well, hamming it up with Shatner-impressions and droll sitcom style. It’s all held together by the show’s lovable mush; if you’re looking for unique, heartfelt television, the Legends are on it. 

#8. “Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch” (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, Season 1, Episode 8)

Despite her being the star of the show, Playlist kept skipping over Jane Levy for its big musical numbers, a consequence of its concept that Zoey is the one hearing other people’s thoughts expressed in song. That oversight was paused in the show’s eighth production, which gave her a show-stopping spotlight all her own. It wasn’t just Levy’s rendition of pop songs that were a hit, but how reality hit for the character after signing her heart out. The playful subversion of Playlist’s formula dialed cringe-comedy to the max, while shattering the limitations of its unusual premise. If the show keeps shuffling itself around like it did here, it won’t be played out anytime soon.

#7. “Sundown” (Lovecraft Country, Season 1, Episode 1)

The unknown is an alluring yet dangerous place. That’s the concept at the heart of infamous horror author H.P. Lovecraft’s work, and the principle carries over to J.J. Abrams and Jordan Peele’s inspired TV show. Atticus Freeman can’t resist that unknown when he receives a mysterious letter from his missing father, and sets off on a road trip beset by monsters to find him. The episode is a wicked homage to the petrifying creatures of Lovecraft lore, but its true horror lies in its subversion of those stories. Lovecraft, an unapologetic racist, founded his fears in that bigotry; Lovecraft Country centers people of color in its narrative, contending with those racist fears within monsters that walk among us. This balance of reverence and rejection is never better than in this first episode; “Sundown” is the highest point in the unearthly Lovecraft Country.

#6. “The Curse” (What We Do in the Shadows, Season 2, Episode 4)

STOP! If you are reading this, you have been cursed! You will be visited by Bloody Mary tonight if you do not forward The Aarons to ten other people.

 ...It was a familiar hoax to earlier adopters of the internet, a bit of viral villany that used the anonymous and unfathomable nature of the world wide web to spook even the most shrewd of children. To a clan of vampires though, incredulity is already out the window. That’s the clever catch of this episode, in which the long-undead crew scramble to get a crash-course in the technological age to avoid such a prophesied ghostly encounter.  It’s a devilishly funny dance of dramatic irony… or is it? I can say with certainty that “The Curse” is a real one, so best get forwarding, readers.

#5. “Ego Death” (I May Destroy You, Season 1, Episode 12)

There was always an inevitability to I May Destroy You: a miniseries needs a denouement. That’s a greater dilemma when your subject is recovering in the wake of sexual assault, a situation that’s rarely cleanly resolved. “Ego Death,” the final installment in the resolutely honest show, doesn’t shy away from that difficulty. Creator and star Michaela Cola’s Arabella has a chance recognition of her assailant, and the episode runs through several possible reactions for her to that encounter. It’s as furious and yet funny as the show consistently was, while always holding firm to the promise of its title: assault need not define you, destruction is not inevitable.

#4. “Bagman” (Better Call Saul, Season 5, Episode 8)

Vince Gilligan built his empire on exploring what will make a person reach their breaking point; after five seasons of build up, he burdened Saul Goodman with as much as the man can bear. Taking cues from a classic episode of the original series, “4 Days Out,” Saul Goodman is stranded in the desert, forced to degradingly drink his own urine while lugging around duffle bags of cash, after a trepidatious handoff is ambushed by a rival drug cartel. Worse, he’s being chased by a surviving shooter. Gilligan loads the episode up with the distinctive visual flourish, attention to detail, and gripping tension that are the hallmarks of his work; when it comes to making standout television, Gilligan’s got it in the bag, man. 

#3. “The Phantom Apprentice” (Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Season 7, Episode 10)

There was a clear force pushing Disney to revive The Clone Wars after seven years off the air: bringing balance to the franchise. The last third of the season finally fulfilled the show’s destiny, running parallel to the events of Revenge of the Sith from the perspective of its original creation, Ahsoka Tano. The entire operatic arc rivaled the power of its cinematic counterparts, but my chosen one is its second part, in which Ahsoka and a revived Darth Maul duel above an under-siege Mandalore. The dazzling lightsaber fight was rendered using motion capture technology, providing viewers with another dizzying high ground from which to watch the fall of the Republic. 

#2. “The View from Halfway Down” (BoJack Horseman, Season 6, Episode 15)

The long-standing question of viewers of BoJack was whether it would result in tragedy or recovery; in the end, the show had its horse and ate it too. The series finale, in which BoJack makes peace in his ruined friendships, could have easily grazed this list, but I gave the edge to the penultimate episode in the horse race. “The View from Halfway Down” is a fake out, a fever dream of finality as BoJack lays drowning in his pool, but it’s no half-measure. It’s a merciless manifestation of fears and regrets, forcing BoJack to confront all the darkness he’s been running from, with the haunting sensation that, this time, he might be in too deep. It’s a brutal piece of TV viewing, but the glass is halfway full: BoJack’s at his lowest point, but the episode is Bojack at its highest. 

AND THE BEST TV EPISODE OF 2020 IS...

#1. “A Dark, Quiet Death” (Mythic Quest: Raven’s Banquet, Season 1, Episode 5)

Mythic Quest took an unexpected detour early on in its debut season, chronicling the personal and professional growth and decay of couple Doc and Bean, video game designers who originally occupied the current headquarters of the show’s regular cast. Guest stars Jake Johnson and Cristin Milioti give life to “Death,” charming viewers and each other from their meet-cute to their late-in-life reunion. It’s a surprisingly surefooted key stroke for a first season sitcom, developing the entire show’s central thesis on the strength of this standalone episode. Bean and Doc act as a cautionary tale for both the destructive power of ego and the corrosive nature of capitalism; a carved heart from the two adorns the office as an omen while the modern day characters lock horns with the same beasts. Now that’s a scrumptious bit of mythmaking. 

NEXT UP: THE 2020 AARON FOR BEST TV PERFORMANCE!

[aion-rsa]

Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The title card for the new AMC series Kevin Can F**K Himself isn’t accompanied by a jaunty tune or a wild sound effect. When the title appears on the screen, it’s soundtracked by a smattering of aggressive laughter. Creeping up below the laughter is a distressing screeching noise, meant to indicate the rapidly fraying sanity of our heroine. 

So it’s quite fitting that Kevin Can F**K Himself makes a compelling case for why laugh tracks (or canned laughter) need to die a quick death. The series centers on Allison McRoberts (Annie Murphy), a woman trapped in a marriage to the titular Kevin. Kevin is an infuriating man-child. He throws keg parties on his wedding anniversary, spends obscene amounts of money on sports memorabilia, and treats Allison like an accessory. He is emotionally abusive, often making Allison feel worthless by telling her things like she’s a bad driver or that she never finishes things so that he can keep her all to himself. 

Approximately a third of the series takes place in lala sitcom land in which the lighting is abundant, the set is clearly facing an audience, and Kevin is always there, chewing up the scenery like Pac Man chowing down on glowing dots. However, whenever Kevin exits, Allison finds herself in a more contemplative and complex (aka: single-camera) existence. The trouble is she doesn’t have much of an identity anymore because her entire life has hinged on being Kevin’s long-suffering wife. The juxtaposition of the sitcom world against a more realistic setting serves to illustrate just how jarring and unnecessary canned laughter is to a TV show. When we watch dramas, we don’t hear people bawling over the sad parts or gasping during the shocking moments. Nope. So why do laugh tracks persist?

As an early millennial, I grew up in a world in which laugh tracks were the norm. From “Must See TV” on NBC in the ‘90s to the vintage sitcoms on Nick at Nite, comedy was always served up with a heaping side of giggles and guffaws. Historically, the sitcom cadence did rely on a call-and response reaction as they actually were often filmed in front of a live studio audience, but it was rare that the responses that made it to the final episode were genuine and uncut. 

To be clear, when I’m referring to canned laughter here, I’m not just referring to the prerecorded kind. Sure, that might be the official definition, but even the laughter we hear from live studio audiences is goosed in some way prior to airtime. The practice of “sweetening” the laugh track, or adding in favorable reactions to amplify certain jokes has been in practice for decades, and it’s still in use today. While the creators of a show might be able to proudly say that the reactions came from an actual audience, the reactions are almost always tweaked in post-production in order to punch up the jokes that the creators or network want to land. Therefore, the laugh track on all of your favorite sitcoms is a lie. 

An argument could potentially be made that the practice of adding in a laugh track might make people feel a sense of camaraderie or community with others watching. And this is somewhat true. In a 2011 article on laugh tracks, NBC News noted a 1974 psychological study in which it was found that people laughed more frequently if they heard canned laughter following a joke. These types of social cues can make individuals feel comfortable, but they can also promote conformity. Looking back on the history of sitcoms, it sure seems as if laugh tracks have been complicit in keeping misogynistic and racist messaging at the forefront of comedy.

Kevin Can F**K Himself plays with this idea in every frame of its sitcom world. Nothing is actually very funny within the brightly lit walls of the McRoberts’s house. As previously established, Kevin is simply awful. He’s a huge loser. Yours truly wanted to throttle him, Homer Simpson style, during every scene he was in. Yet, since the sitcom land dictates that Kevin is a damn delight, the audience plays along. 

(It’s worth noting here that Kevin Can F**K Himself was filmed in front of a studio audience. However AMC tells us that, due to COVID restrictions, the audience was small and far away, so the laughs were not picked up on the audio. Therefore, much of the laughter you hear on the show was added in post-production.)

The dynamic between Kevin, Allison, and the viewers in the studio is an exaggerated version of a tableau that has been unfolding on our TV screens for decades. We see a harried, hot wife play a straight man to a dumpy doofus husband, and we’re all supposed to think it’s simply hilarious. It’s worth noting that Kevin Can F**K HImself cribs its title from the Kevin James’ sitcom Kevin Can Wait, in which the series unceremoniously killed off James’s first super hot wife on the show (Erinn Hayes), only to replace her with his prior super hot sitcom wife, Leah Remini. Because women are oh so very interchangeable in the sitcom world, the laugh track on that show never skipped a beat. 

Canned laughter has historically enabled the entertainment world to lift up mediocre men such as Doug Heffernan (Kevin James), Raymond Barone (Ray Romano), and Kevin Gable (Kevin James, again) at the women’s expense. For ages, only a very small handful of white males were allowed to create content as showrunners, directors, and writers at networks. As they had control over the laugh track, they became the arbiters of what was funny and what was not funny. They got to shape reactions according to their worldview, painting the schlumpy dudes as heroes and the women as eager sidekicks. 

While there are oodles of examples of the long-suffering wife throughout sitcom history, we rarely think of these women as victims. All in the Family is considered a classic, but Archie Bunker was viciously verbally abusive to his wife Edith in almost every episode. Sure, it was a different era (and Archie surely isn’t intended to be a role model), but take away the laughs, and what’s left is a depressing portrait of a red-faced husband straight up screaming at his beleaguered wife. And don’t even get me started on The Honeymooners classic line, “to the moon, Alice!” Ahahahaha, yes, spousal abuse. Hilarious. Well, the laugh track thought so, anyway. 

In more recent years, verbal abuse on sitcoms focusing on husband-wife dyads has given way to a more subtle form of emotional abuse. Often, this appears in the form of financial abuse in which a spouse spends or hides money from the other in order to keep them in their place. In Kevin Can F**K Himself, Kevin consistently spends money without consulting Allison first. In one episode, he even proudly states that a recent purchase cost “more than our wedding, but less than our car.” 

This type of abuse has played out in sitcoms forever. Doug Heffernan often hid his spending from Carrie, Raymond Barone invested in a go-cart venture without telling Deborah, and even Fred Flintstone stole money from Wilma’s hidden stash (yep, The Flintstones was a cartoon, but it inexplicably also had a laugh track). These transgressions are generally perceived to be harmless on screen, leading to those canned laffs and a resolution in 30 minutes or less, but in real life, this type of clandestine behavior in relation to finances can be catastrophic, trapping an unhappy wife in a relationship with no means to escape. 

Even TV series that didn’t utilize the wife/husband premise – notably Frasier and Friends – often used audience laughter to support misogynistic punchlines. Friends notoriously used the laugh track to support harmful jokes about fat shaming and transphobia while Frasier’s archaic attitudes towards women were often played for comedy. Personally, I will never ever get over how Frasier Crane treated Roz Doyle, slut shaming her at every turn for over a decade when, in fact, Frasier was sleeping with half of Seattle with nary an eyebrow raise in his snooty direction. (Sorry, rant over. But, seriously, Peri Gilpin rules. #JusticeForRoz)

Laugh tracks help normalize these behaviors. If you’re not laughing at the joke when everyone else is, something must be wrong with you. Women have faced this exact dilemma since the beginning of time. Laugh along or be judged as cold and unfeeling. Be in on the joke or be tossed to the side. This truism is even noted in the recent HBO Max series Hacks in which aging comic Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) confesses to a newbie comedienne why she makes fun of herself in her own act. With a wan smile, Deborah says, “I realized they would rather laugh at me than believe me.”

These are the same exact challenges that Allison finds herself facing in Kevin Can F**K Himself. When Kevin is around, Allison tries her best to play the role she’s been given so that he won’t make her life even more miserable. No one believes or cares that Kevin is awful because they think Allison is lucky to even have landed a man at all. The series overtly illustrates that these types of stories have always just shrugged at viewers, telling us, oh well, boys will be boys, while women’s suffering is shoehorned into punchlines instead of taken seriously. Rather than confronting the thorny reality of disentangling the institutions that lift the Kevins up and keep the Allisons down, the sitcom world treats women’s pain like a joke.  

After years and years under Kevin’s oppressive thumb, Allison isn’t laughing anymore. She’s full of rage and ready to break free. When we see her in her life without Kevin, there are no prescriptive beats dictating what’s funny and what’s not. And it’s so refreshing. Life can be funny! Sometimes Allison is funny in her real life too! Annie Murphy is also very very funny! And yet, even in the absence of a laugh track, viewers can pick up on the funny. Because in this modern age of entertainment, viewers are savvy enough to know what they feel. 

As canned laughter has slowly disappeared, TV has opened up to more nuanced emotion, allowing viewers to discover and explore the highs and lows for themselves. It’s probably not surprising to learn that the few existing series that do still use laugh tracks, such as United States of Al and Bob Hearts Abishola – both airing on CBS and both created by Chuck Lorre – have been critiqued for leaning on racist and sexist stereotypes. Oddly enough, an urban myth has been circulating the internet for years, claiming that everyone on laugh tracks is actually dead because the recordings were made so long ago. As modern audio engineers now update their recordings regularly, this is not true, but the truth is that the laugh track itself is soon headed to an unmarked grave in the entertainment cemetery alongside tube televisions, Smell-O-Vision, and home video rentals.  

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With critically acclaimed comedies such as Schitt’s Creek (also starring Annie Murphy!), Fleabag, and The Good Place getting laughs without any pre-recorded assistance, home audiences are getting more savvy as to what’s actually funny and what’s just a cheap shot. In addition, social media and the ubiquitous sharing of memes have effectively displaced the laugh track, as people can now actually be part of an interactive community with others, watching and reacting to the same show at the same time. 

In Kevin Can F**K Himself, canned laughter has finally taken its rightful place as a relic of the past. The chuckles and chortles that pepper the series are a knowing nod to a bygone era in which TV series tried to force the funny on viewers instead of letting them find their own way. Finally, laugh tracks aren’t in on the joke; they are the joke.

Kevin Can F**k Himself airs Sundays at 9 p.m. ET on AMC.

The post Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2UmnzJj

[katdvs]

When Riley Matthews was in high school her life changed, now as a professional dancer she’s got a new challenge when she’s paired with professional football player Lucas Friar on the latest season. Can they win the season, or will their past get in the way?

Cross Posted to FFN & AO3

Chapter One | 

Author Note: Hi, how is everyone? I’m glad to be back. I’m writing this as I go, I know where I want it to go, but let’s hope that’s where we end up. Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter. XOXO

Chapter Two:

“Eyes on me.” Riley reminded Lucas as she paused the music that they would dance to on live television tomorrow night. This season the network had decided to keep everything secret, except with Pros were returning They figured it would keep people guessing and have them tune in to see who made it.

Lucas nodded, “Okay.” He got into the hold he needed to be in for the dance, following her lead, the cues she had taught him over the last couple of weeks.

Riley felt Lucas lead her around the dance floor, feeling like they were as ready as they could be for the live show. Whatever happened out on the dance floor tomorrow night, live in front of all of America, was what was meant to be.

“We’ve got this Riley.” Lucas told her with a smile as he broke away to grab his water bottle.

“I certainly hope so.” She couldn’t recall the last time she was this nervous before the dress rehearsal. She was just thankful she hadn’t had to do most of the pre-show press that they normally had,

Lucas watched her, amazed he could notice something so subtle, “You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

“Yeah I am.” She confessed, feeling the cameras zooming in on her. Never in all her years on the show had she admitted it, no one had called her out on it.

He took a few steps towards her, “We’re going to be fine.” He saw the shadow of something cross her eyes, and he realized what she was more nervous about, once the world knew that he was on the show, that they’re partners, it would take them from the bubble of this studio.

“I’m glad you have confidence.” She went to grab her water bottle.

Lucas stopped her, “I do have confidence because you have confidence. Don’t let it fade. We’re gonna win this.”

Riley cocked an eyebrow at him, “You realize this is more then one night right, we hopefully have weeks of this.”

“I know, and I know that next week we’ll crush it and we will each week, because you’re my teacher, my partner, and I believe in you.”

Damn they made great TV, Riley knew right now the executives watching the feeds and later the dailies would love this stuff. “Grab your stuff, we’ve got to get to the studio for the final dress rehearsal.”

“Whatever you say, you’re the boss.” He smirked.

***

Riley hated the costumes that had been picked for them this week. The song choice had been bad enough, but she was literally here in a cheerleader shirt and top, with fringe. Lucas was in a sparkly varsity jacket, and to make it even worse it just happened to be their high school colors.

She was on the stage right now, the lights out as they crew set up during what would’ve been a commercial break. She could hear the banter between the hosts and then the start of the package. She glanced at the monitor, their was for the whole world to see, her falling into his arms. Then of course clips of them dancing over the last few weeks, teaching him the moves, and what had to be a last-minute edit, the two of them just a few hours ago.

She shook it off as the music swelled and she made her moves towards Lucas as everything started to fall into place on the stage. He kept his eyes on her during the entire dance, though he lost his footing on the final move, and stumbled a little bit.

“It’s only a rehearsal, you got it out of the way.” Riley told him afterwards, as they pretended to get scores from Judges that weren’t present.

As they moved off stage Lucas leaned in close, “Did you suggest these costumes in these colors?”

“Nope, I don’t know why they decided on these, but I’m just going along with it until the waltz next week.” She stood tall as she stopped at the monitor to watch Zay and his partner dance. “That’s what we need to be worried about.”

Lucas watched as Zay danced with Connie Patrick, a sitcom star that Lucas had run into occasionally at charity events. She also came with a major social media following.

“They’re good.” Lucas admitted.

“Yeah, Zay has won several times, he could win again.”

“Not this season, we’re going to win.” He told her and he moved towards the dressing trailers.

“Riley, Lucas!” Sheryl was rushing towards them, “Tomorrow night you’re going on last.”

Riley froze, “What?”

“Yeah, you’ll be our final dancers of the night.” She smiled, “America is going to fall in love with the two of you tomorrow night.”

“Is that good or bad?” Lucas wondered.

Riley looked at her first love, “Well, you won’t be able to go off the grid until after the show ends.”

***

Riley sat on her bed, replaying everything that happened today. She knew the storyline that the show was going for. They saw the chemistry between Riley and Lucas. They would be fools not to play into it.

She would just have to get through the next night, and then at least the first week would be behind them. They would move on to the next dance, the next song. Another week of grueling rehearsals during the day, at night she was plotting the choreography for the next network musical, she had one more number to do and in a few weeks, rehearsals would start for that. When they did, she would be beyond busy if Lucas didn’t get eliminated.

Picking up her phone she began scrolling through social media. A lot of guesses about who her dance partner would be this season, none of them correct. A few of the names were on the show this season, but no one she saw was mentioning Lucas. Probably a good thing.

As she moved through her feed on Instagram she stopped when she saw a picture of Maya, her former best friend. She was showing off a ring. She realized it was a picture that Farkle had posted, and tagged Lucas in.

She felt her stomach sink as she read the caption, “#SheSaidYes to my good buddy @LucasFriar. She’s so excited for their journey together, she insisted I buy her champagne.”

If Lucas were involved with Maya, when did he propose, he’d been here in LA for the last few weeks in the bedroom next to hers.

“My only comment is that I am not engaged to Maya Hart.” Lucas’ voice carried from his balcony, “I’m not dating her. I didn’t propose. What picture are you talking about?”

Riley opened her door and saw him pacing as he spoke on the phone.

“Jerry, you know I’m in LA. The show is tomorrow night. I don’t know what game Maya is playing this time, maybe her sales are slow again, I don’t know.”

Riley attempted to wave to get his attention when he turned around in his pacing, she waved her cell phone at him and he leaned as close as the edge of the balcony would allow.

“I’m calling Farkle and finding out why this is happening, okay. I have no idea where she got that ring, but I didn’t give it to her. I have never dated Maya Hart. I will never date Maya Hart, she can keep trying to make it happen, but it hasn’t worked since middle school, it’s time for a new game.” Lucas growled before ending the call.

“I take it you’re not actually engaged to Maya.” Riley enlarged the photo, something about the ring was familiar, but how different were gaudy giant diamonds from one another?

“I would rather get trampled by a bull.” He sighed as he scrolled through his phone, “She keeps doing this, anytime she can she uses my name to get hers out there. Farkle keeps going along with her on this, I don’t know why, I’m not sure I want to know why.”

Riley pretended to understand, she wasn’t sure she understood the dynamic of her former friends. “I was confused when I saw the post, it’s the kind of thing you probably would’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah, if it were true.” He sighed looking out to the ocean, the moonlight reflecting on the waves. “You two were best friends at one point, but once you and Zay went on tour, she changed. It was like whatever anchored her was gone. But at the same time, no one could ever expect you to spend your entire life being the good angel on her shoulder.”

Riley hadn’t realized just how much she needed to hear that; years of guilt washed away from her. “I’ve always felt like I abandoned her, but Zay and me, we had to do this.” She smiled, “Do I wish somethings had worked out a little differently, maybe, but I love my life, I love my job, I could never really be Riley if I spent my life keeping Maya out of trouble. I lost part of myself doing that once, I couldn’t imagine still doing that now.”

“I’m glad you found something that makes you happy.” Lucas confessed, catching the moonlight reflecting off her messy bun as he looked over to her.

“Are you happy, playing football? I always thought you would be a baseball star.”

Lucas sighed, “Football paid for college, and then I got drafted. I’ve made good money; I get to do stuff for the community. Is it the path I expected to take, not at all? Did I ever expect to be dancing with my first love on national TV, no.”

“Goes for me as well.” She chuckled, “You know once it’s revealed that we’re partners, how long do you think before our past is revealed?”

“Depends on who tweets during the show. If someone who remembers us as together from high school, maybe ten minutes. If not, maybe a day, if we’re lucky.”

“Well hopefully we’re lucky.” Riley breathed in the ocean air one last time, “You, bed.”

“Oh Riley, I thought you’d never ask.” He teased, watching her roll her eyes, “I get it, I need to sleep. I should call Farkle and get the picture taken down.”

“Let it stay up. Maya is probably selling a story about how you proposed right, the date, the restaurant, all of that, when you and I dance together tomorrow night, she’ll be scrambling, and you can get the truth out.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Riley told him as she clutched her cell phone in her hand. “Good night Lucas. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. America is either going to love us or hate us.”

“How could America not love you Riley?”

She shrugged as she went back into her room, “sweet dreams.” She called out before looking at the picture again. She pinched it open to enlarge the ring, exactly as she suspected. She looked back to make sure her door was closed before she dialed the number, she’d saved for years but hadn’t used since high school.

“The number you’re calling using a screening service, please say who you are and why you’re calling.”

“Riley Matthews for Farkle Minkus, I was just wondering why Maya was wearing his mothers ring in the photo announcing her engagement to Lucas.” She felt her stomach knot as she waited to see if the call connected, it didn’t.

She turned her ringer off, putting her phone on the charger before she went to take a shower.

***

Farkle Minkus often wondered why he went along with Maya’s schemes, her little teasers to the press. Lucas rarely spoke to him anymore because of them, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t speak to him anytime soon after the latest one.

How had Maya even figured out his Instagram login? Farkle hadn’t used it for anything more then charity promotions in ages. For a genius, he sure could be a dum-dum at times.

He was sitting on the balcony of his New York penthouse, the city alive below him while an odd sense of serenity surrounded him. No stars visible in the night sky, but he knew exactly where certain constellations were at any moment.

He was waiting for Lucas to call, asking for him to take the picture down. At least then he could explain he hadn’t willingly posted it. This was Maya looking for attention.

Lucas had stopped giving into these whims in college, perhaps being across the country had mad it easier. Maybe Farkle gave in because Maya was the only friend, he really had left. Riley and Zay had long gone so many years ago, Lucas became a big football star, Maya held on to him, while Smackle found her way to a new Biodome project in the south west.

When his phone rang from an unknown number, he tapped the screen call option. As the message came in, he couldn’t believe it. He sat in shock, holding his bourbon close to his lips but not drinking it, frozen and missing a chance to take the call.

His eyes scanned the transcription. Riley called him. She reached out because she knew Maya was lying.

Maybe it was possible these games would end. If Riley could tell from an Instagram picture, then the world had to know that Maya and Lucas weren’t a couple. Perhaps there was a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

He finally took a sip of his drink, starting to feel that perhaps a weight was being lifted off his shoulders he never intended to carry.

***

Lucas was oddly energized as he’d spent the last half an hour pacing in his trailer, waiting to be called to set to be ready to dance live on television. He’d ignored his phone all day after his morning call with his mother, it was the only way he could focus.

He stood backstage now, waiting for the cue, watching Zay dance on the monitor. His friend was amazing, he’d always known that. He had always had an idea that this might just be where Zay ended up, and he’d been right. Lucas had never anticipated Riley would be with him, not until the night he watched them dance at the talent show.

He shook away the memory as he watched Zay and Connie get their scores a six, seven, and another six. Not bad at all for the first night from what Zay had explained to him the other day. Lucas could only hope he and Riley did that well, but he believed they could.

The introduction package played as he and Riley took the stage, the lights down as the video showed their “first meeting” and the pep-talk he’d given her the day before.

“Lucas Friar and Riley!” The announcer declared before the music filled the soundstage, the lights went up and Lucas did every step Riley had taught him as best he could as they moved to the music. Each step she had drilled into him, his eyes on her as they danced to a song about love, while dressed in ridiculous high school themed costumes.

As the dance ended, he didn’t stumble this time, they twirled together before ending with a dip.

The audience applauded, at the very least they had impressed them. That was a good start. His heart was racing as they got feedback from the judges. Riley had told him to expect exactly what they were saying. She knew what his weakness was, and already zeroing in on it.

The scores came in, seven, seven, seven, the highest score of the night. Riley was hugging him as the hosts asked for viewers to cast their votes online.

“You did amazing Lucas, I’m proud of you. Tomorrow, we waltz!” She told him as they made their way off stage.

“Riley Matthews.” Sheryl was right behind them, her tone let Riley knew she had to stop.

“Yes, boss?”

“Why didn’t you tell me the two of you went to high school together?”

“We didn’t think it mattered to the show. We haven’t seen each other since Riley and Zay started touring.” Lucas answered.

“Besides, aren’t surprises more fun?” Riley chewed her lower lip.

Sheryl looked at the two of them, “And you didn’t want me to exploit that you were high school sweethearts, huh?”

“No comment.” Riley told her as they walked towards the dressing trailers, “Hey Sheryl, hope we’ve got good music next week.”

“I make no promises.” Sherly laughed as she watched them walk away, setting her eyes on Zay. If anyone knew the story, it would be him.

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (9)

The day started out sucky to begin with. Her crush ousted to the class and Adrien. Lila taking pride in exacting her revenge.

But by the time patrol was over, a young man was dead, and Ladybug’s identity was at risk. Lila was the least of her concerns.

Good thing Adrien was taking it all like a champ.

Ao3 | FF.net

This chapter contains no warnings.

—

Master Fu was a simple man these days. He drank his tea without milk or sugar. He took evening strolls through the park. And he always, always watched the six o’clock news.

Today, he closed his clinic the second there was an Akuma attack, just as he always did. And he had yet to reopen. Due to the nature of the akuma, he had stayed as far away as possible, keeping with reports online.

Now, at a quarter to six, he sat watching the TV with rapt attention.

Well, not really. There was some sitcom on. The news was next, and he was eagerly waiting for it.

“Still no word on the akuma?”

“No.” Fu answered, glancing at the police blotter. “This is very suspicious. If they defeated it and nothing healed, then Marinette should have come to me for help by now.”

“You don’t think…that the akuma won, do you?”

Master Fu was quiet, not wanting to admit it, but knowing that that was the most likely scenario.

“What do we do?”

“I would like to see what is being reported. If there hasn’t been anymore news, we will go to Alya Cesaire, Nino Lahiffe, and Chloe Bourgeois.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? If Ladybug and Chat Noir weren’t able to stop this akuma, should the others, who are more inexperienced join the fray?”

“We don’t have a choice. I can’t allow Hawkmoth to get ahold of their Miraculous.”

The show ended, and on came the TVi news logo. All of the facts that Fu already knew were rehashed again, and Fu was forced to wait longer still, knowing his hesitation could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

Finally, they cut over to Nadja on the scene of the Arc De Triomphe. “This was the last location the Akuma was spotted, and the damage to the structure still remains. The Akuma spawned at the renovation site of Notre Dame, where witnesses say a construction worker was akumatized after accidentally collapsing a scaffolding. No casualties have been reported, luckily. According to the Ladyblog, the official new source for all things Ladybug, Ladybug and Chat Noir were spotted on their way to intercept the akuma, though reporter Alya Cesaire was asked to leave by Ladybug, for her own safety. No one else has seen or heard from the heroes since. Which begs the question:

“Has Hawkmoth finally won?”

Master Fu stood. “That’s it, I’m recruiting the others.”

He went to the Miracle box, opening it and taking out the Fox necklace and the Bee comb.

He gathered some other necessary items, and just when he was about to go out the door, the TV turned to static.

“Good evening Paris.” A woman in black appeared, with reflective sunglasses on her face. “Please excuse me for interrupting whatever pointless drivel you were consumed with. My name is Salo. I’m not an akuma, but you’ll soon wish I was. I have succeeded where all the others have failed.” She stepped back to show Ladybug and Chat Noir, bound and gagged.

Master Fu dropped everything in his arms and ran to the Tv, holding the sides to get a better look. “Oh no...no no no...this can’t be happening...”

“I have captured the so called heroes of Paris. In ten minutes, I will be revealing their identities on ‘make ladybug suffer dot com.’ Be sure to tune in, you won’t want to miss it.” Her mouth quirked up in a malicious smile, and the picture went to static, the news coming back on without a pause.

Master Fu scrambled to grab his phone and pulled up the explorer. The website loaded slowly, but the live feed turned on just in time for him to see Chat Noir’s arm get dislocated.

Master Fu had seen some hard things in his long life as a guardian. But he had become so fond of Marinette and Adrien that the thought of them suffering brought pain to his heart.

He knew the risks. They knew the risks. But that didn’t make this any easier.

While the video was still playing, he gathered the Miraculous and headed outside.

Paris was at a standstill. Even traffic had ground to a halt, as people everywhere were staring at their phones in various stages of shock.

Master Fu hurried to find Alya and Nino, not knowing where they’d be. Home, perhaps? Not at the school, not at this time of night. Though, Alya ran the Ladyblog and was often out chasing akuma. They could be anywhere!

“Well well well. A famous model and a superhero! How intriguing! Adrien Agreste…I bet your father would pay a pretty penny to have you home safe and sound, don’t you think?”

Master Fu winced. There was one. Adrien was no longer safe. Especially since he was a celebrity and everyone knew where he lived.

He walked faster.

Maybe Alya and Nino were looking for them? Maybe they’d run into each other. Gah! He was wasting time! Where, where, where!?

“I’ll try the bakery. It’s nearby and…maybe they are there waiting for Marinette.”

“And who the heck are you?” Salo snorted. “We lucked out with Mr. Whiskers, but who knew Ladybug was just a nobody?” She leaned in closer. “Oh wait, I recognize you…yeah, you’re a friend of the Ladyblogger, in some of her videos. Mmmm….Marinette, right? Yeah. How sad! You’d think the person most dedicated to finding out Ladybug’s identity would have seen her sitting in front of her! You must either be too pathetic in your real life, or totally unimportant to the Ladyblogger.”

Master Fu swore under his breath. Now Ladybug was compromised. Strangers gasped in shock all around him, as they cried out ‘oh no she’s just a kid!’

A kid with the burden of the world on her shoulders.

Master Fu stopped, leaning against a building to catch his breath. He was too old for this job. He heard Salo demanding Marinette to strip and turned off his phone. He’d give her the privacy of at least one person.

“What are we going to do?” He whispered. “This is all my fault…”

Wayzz, ever faithful and wise, asked, “how is it your fault?”

“I gave them the Miraculous. I entrusted them, two children, with magic stones to fight crime!”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have if Hawkmoth hadn’t come out of hiding.”

That was a very true point. One that eased the burden of guilt ever so slightly.

“Still…”

“And you never told them to fight crime outside of akumas. They did that on their own.”

“Well of course they were going to do that!” Master Fu chastised. “There’s no way they would sit by and let things happen. You know that.”

“Of course. But I’d venture to say that this woman is responsible for this. If you had picked anyone else, I’d wager that this would have still happened. It’s not fair to blame yourself.”

“I can’t…I can’t help it. They were my chosen.”

“All may not be lost yet.” Wayzz reminded gently. “This woman isn’t an akuma. Hawkmoth will be searching for them, and his akuma are hard to miss.”

Master Fu straightened up at that. “You’re right! Let’s hurry then.”

When they reached the bakery, they found the lobby door was open, but no one was in the first floor.

“I’ll peek upstairs.” Wayzz suggested, floating towards the stairs.

There was some shouting from the living room, and Wayzz returned quickly. “Alya and Nino are up there, but so are the rest of their classmates, and Adrien’s guardians.”

Fu frowned. “Alright. It would be best for them to keep their secret identities. We will wait until they leave to announce our presence.”

So Master Fu and Wayzz left the bakery and waited across the street. He pulled out his phone, only to see that the stream had ended, a message stating that more would happened in the morning. He didn’t know if he even wanted to know what happened when he wasn’t watching.

Soon enough, he saw two classmates come bolting out of the bakery and down the street.

Finally, the bodyguard that was always around Adrien exited with a bag over his shoulder and a heavy tote in his hands. He placed it in the car and went back inside.

“Ah, I see.”

“What?” Asked Wayzz.

“I believe the Dupain-Cheng’s are relocating, now that the world knows who Ladybug is. Smart. Very smart.”

He continued to wait as the other classmates trickled out. Sabine and Tom came out, more luggage on them, and got in the car. Then, Alya and Nino left together, hand in hand.

“Alright, that’s our cue.”

He followed them at a healthy distance for a block or so, before catching up to them and announcing his presence.  “Nino Lahiffe? Alya Cesaire?”

They spun around, very obviously on edge, as Nino pulled Alya behind him. “Who wants to know?”

He smiled at them softly. “You have every right to be on edge right now, and I’m glad you are.” He glanced around, checking to see how safe it was to talk in the open. There weren’t very many people out, since the stream had made everyone nervous and retreat to their homes. Though there was no one immediately near them, he still walked a few slow steps forward.

The teens didn’t budge, but kept a wary eye on the man.

“I must apologize. You two are going through a great deal right now, but I must ask a favor of you.”

Alya and Nino shared a look, and then she said, “who are you again?”

“You may call me Master Fu. I am the guardian of the miraculous.”

At the reveal, Wayzz appeared from his pocket, and waved to Nino. The two teens sighed in relief and relaxed.

“Surely you’ve seen the website?” Master Fu asked.

“Yeah…” Alya breathed. “It’s…the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You would be in good company with most of Paris. That is why I have called on you.” He took out the box with the Fox Miraculous. “Alya Cesaire, this is the Miraculous of the Fox, you will use it for good.”

She nodded fiercely and held her hand out to accept it.

Trixx came alive once the lid was opened. “Hey pretty girl! How’s it going?”

“I’ve been better.” Alya admitted with a sad smile, as she hooked the necklace on.

Then Master Fu removed the bracelet from his arm. “Nino Lahiffe, this is the Miraculous of the Turtle. You will use it for good.”

“Of course dude—er, Master.” He took the bracelet and slipped it on, Wayzz reappearing.

“In your care, I will also leave the Bee Miraculous. It will be up to you to decide if Chloe Bourgeois is worthy of being a hero once more. Marinette had mentioned that she was not on good terms with her. This may hinder Chloe’s potential as an ally. Either way, it is up to you.”

“Thank you Master,” they both said with a bow.

“Now, I must state again, the enemy you face is not an akuma. She is not a Miraculous user. This is a matter that should be left up to the police, but I can’t sit by and left Hawkmoth have an opening to take the Miraculous. There is no Miraculous Cure to fix any damages. These people don’t have beams or magic swords. They have guns and no hesitation. Don’t do anything too rashly.”

“Yes Master,” they agreed.

“When do you want us to return these?” Alya asked, with good reason.

“I don’t have an answer for that.” Fu said, “I would say…at least when the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous are safe. If…Marinette and Adrien can still be saved when that happens, then…”

The insinuation was not lost on the other two, though it was a fate they were not ready to accept.

“We’ll save them,” said Alya, resolutely. “We’ll save both of them. And the Miraculous.”

Master Fu smiled at them, a proud look in his eyes. “Marinette choose well. I’ve always thought so.” Then he sobered. “It is important that you continue to hide your identities, and I suggest you don’t bring any attention to yourselves as heroes. I don’t know how this ‘Salo’ woman captured them so easily, but I would venture they’d get you too if you step out of line. Keep under the radar.”

“We’ll be careful.” Nino assured.

“I know you will do your best…I’m just…I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I can’t help but feel that…this is my fault, for giving them the Miraculous. Wayzz assures me that anyone could have been taken by these people. But…just promise me that you’ll stay safe? That I won’t regret this decision.”

Alya held up a pinky. “It may be juvenile, but I pinky swear.”

Master Fu smiled at her, and hooked his finger with hers. He did the same with Nino. “There, you’ve made an oath with the guardian. It’s unbreakable.”

Alya smirked. “You said something that made a lot of sense. This is an opening for Hawkmoth to retrieve the Miraculous. He’ll have an akuma out looking soon enough. We just need to follow it.”

“Clever girl. Those were my thoughts exactly.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve been talking for much too long. As tempting as it sounds, don’t begin your search just yet. Go home, and reassure your parents. They are probably already worried.”

“Yes Master!”

“I’ll see you again,” he nodded sagely, and departed.

With Wayzz gone, the walk home was quiet, and he was left with his thoughts. Several times he found himself turning around to take the Miraculous back, but ultimately he let it go. What other choice did he have?

—

It was now 10 pm. Ten hours since Adrien and Marinette went missing. And four hours since their fate became known to the world.

Nino and Alya arrived at the Agreste residence, by car driven by the Gorilla. They both had large duffle bags with them. Enough clothes and necessities to last them two weeks. Alya doubted she’d get through all of it, because surely, they’d find a way to save Marinette and Adrien within the week. Surely.

Tom and Sabine met them at the door, readily embracing the kids. Four hours was a long enough time to worry about another missing pair.

Gabriel stood off to the side, watching, his hand over his mouth. He dared not to say anything, lest he out himself as incapable of making decisions that were in the best interest of everyone. Someone had to keep a level head.

Once everyone had calmed down again, Nathalie approached the teens. “I will show you to your rooms.”

Nino spoke up. “Could we…could we stay in Adrien’s room?”

Nathalie looked at Gabriel who only nodded. It was an innocent request, and he could understand it.

In Adrien’s room, Alya and Nino set their bags on the ground and just stood there. The room was huge, and full of stuff…but it felt so empty. Empty, lonely, and cold.

The duffle of Marinette’s stuff that Alya had packed sat behind the couch. An odd place for it, but convenient for tonight.

Nino took off his hat. “Do you want me to take the couch?”

Alya shook her head. “No…I want you close.”

He nodded in understanding.

They made themselves comfortable, knowing that’s what Adrien would want. They explored a little, without prying.

“Alya, look at this.” Nino said with a fond little hum.

“Ew, is that…cheese?”

“I bet it’s for his kwami.”

Alya laughed then too. “You know, every once in a while, I’d get a whiff of cheese from him. I didn’t think it was actually him, but…now I know.”  

It was late and they were exhausted. They took turns in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Then they fumbled for the lights, and crawled into Adrien’s bed. Alya had a shirt in her arms.

“What’s that?” Nino asked.

“It’s Marinette’s.” She answered, giving it a little sniff. “It smells like her.”

“Babe, we’re going to find them. We’re going to save them.”

“Absolutely.”

“There is one blessing in all of this.”

“And that is?”

“They’re together. They aren’t suffering alone. And as long as they have each other…I think they’ll make it.”

Alya nodded, reaching her hand out. “I think you’re right.”

He grasped her hand back, lacing their fingers together.  

Neither slept well, not only from worry, but anxious for what awaited their friends in the morning.