#envisage series

[snowdice]

Envisage a Better Place to Sleep, Virgil! (Part 2) [Part of the Envisage Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Virgil

Characters: Roman, Virgil

Summary: A collection of mini fics detailing all of the times Roman has found Virgil… sleeping in odd places after moving in together.

Chapter Summary: Virgil goes from best to worst roommate in a matter of seconds.

Notes: Superhero AU, Fluff, Inappropriate Sleeping Places

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

When Roman returned to the apartment from his superhero exploits, he was exhausted. He’d had to run all over the city because a villain had released a flock of robotic murder birds, and Roman had had to catch all of them before they achieved their purpose. It had been like a city-wide game of Duck Hunt, except Roman had been using his fists instead of a gun and the half a dozen police officers wearing tactical gear took the role of the dog, scaring the birds out into the open, and then picking up the pieces after Roman took them down.

It was now 3am and Roman had class at 8:30am. Yet, he knew if he collapsed into bed right now, he’d be in for a mega migraine in the morning. He’d burned far too many calories and, even though he didn’t even feel hungry at this point, he could feel the effects on his body already. If he slept for 4 hours, he’d pay for it.

So, he forced himself to walk to the kitchen and flip on the lights. He was about to grab one of those horrible, but necessary, energy bars his moms always made sure he had, but then saw a note on the counter.

Calorie enriched mac and cheese in fridge. Blue Tupperware.

-Virgil

“Fucking, bless you, Virgil,” Roman mumbled to himself, turning to the fridge. It was nice to be roommates with someone who knew about his superhero work. The Tupperware container was right there as promised, and Virgil had even put it in one of the microwave safe bowls, so Roman popped off the lid and put it in the microwave. When stirring it halfway through, he noticed there was even bacon in it. Virgil got the best roommate reward tonight.

When the food was warm, he grabbed it and took it to the living room. He fell heavily onto the couch. The couch grunted in surprise.

Roman was on his feet in a second, the fork in his hand going flying, though he managed to keep a grip on the bowl of food. He was even more freaked out when he noticed he had not, in fact, sat on someone. No one was on the couch.

“Uh…” he said, stumped.

But then there was the sound of movement and suddenly dark eyes were peering up at him from the floor.

“You’re under the couch?!” Roman shrieked. There was some space under the couch, enough that he’d thought of getting one of those rolling storage compartment for under it, but there wasn’t that much space. “I didn’t even think you could fit under there!”

Virgil grunted. “Barely.”

“Why do you do these things to me?” Roman bemoaned as his heartrate started to slowly calm. He found he wasn’t tired anymore.

“Why don’t you eat at the kitchen table?” Virgil returned, wiggling back into his place under the couch.

“You are the worst roommate ever!” Roman declared.

“Just eat your mac and cheese, Prince Dumbass,” came from the monster under the couch.

Roman just sighed and picked his fork up from the floor. He considered going to get another, but then shrugged. He was a bit more cautious when sitting on the couch this time and did not get a sound of protest.

He ended up falling asleep on the top of the couch minutes after finishing his bowl of macaroni while his roommate slept below.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[thisbluespirit]

Jane Austen, Missing Presumed Lost, Most Wanted edition

I was intrigued by the other poll, because surely there were some other feature films (as opposed to TV versions) released prior to the 90s, aside from Pride and Prejudice (1940), but there really don't seem to be. Even the BBC seem to have been slow to adapt some of them at all.

Anyway, to use my brief and dodgy wikipedia-based research for something, which lost Austen TV adaptation would you most like to see if someone could just find it stashed in their attic?

[xerotiny99]

Trouble in Paradise // Our Precious #3

Trouble in Paradise (Our precious series 3)

M.list ┃ Previous ┃ Next

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: smut, dom!yunho, sub!reader, bits of food play (a little disgusting if you aren't into that kinda thing), frottage (non-penetrative sex), cunnilingus (oral sex), nipple/breast simulation, dirty talk & degradation (ofc, because Yunho's really got a foul mouth on him, and we like it <I need therapy>).

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by mentioned tags. Please, if you're really grossed out by "transferring" food from one's mouth to another's, then do not proceed. (Here, it's just strawberries, tho. So totally upto you 💀)

Gist: after the deliberate game night, you're left to contemplate about Jongho's and his flatmates' proposition of being their fucktoy. If that wasn't enough of an issue for you, a phone call from your parents leaves you in a mess. And the only way to relax during your hard times is something you know Yunho does all too well.

Word Count: 12,686

  "So, have you thought about it?"

You bite your lip, obviously contemplating every word of his.

"You know, Jongho just asked me about it a couple of days ago." you stifle a groan and shake your head, "agreed you all are very eager to have me on board, but I'm going to need some time to think, right?"

You take a deep breath, listening to his deep voice murmuring, "and we don't mind how long you take to give us your ultimatum. Of course, I am aware of the kind of plight you're put through. So, don't sweat it and don't make a decision you would end up regretting, okay?"

The grin on your face widens when you let his words sink in; well, he was right. But there was something which was quite tedious to figure out.

"Can I ask you something, Yunho?"

Hearing him lowly hum against your ear, you resist every urge to stuff your hand in between your legs; you roll over your stomach and grab a pillow to hold it under your chest. Your lethargic body relaxes almost immediately when you feel the soft coziness of the pillow and silk sheets draped over your bed. The mattress sinks once again when you move, shifting on your back to stare at the bland ceiling before pushing your phone closer to your ear.

Your heart thumped in your chest, words itching to be said, somehow balancing off the tip of your tongue yet having no grit to let them out. This question, the supposed doubt you had in your mind was troubling you ever since Jongho dropped you off at your dorms the next day of your game night. It was a fiddling question, not too serious or brooding, yet you had your conscience tied in a knot over it. The after-bearing sentiments of your proposed 'bargain' had been irking you to your ultimate limits.

What if, keeping a sex exclusive relationship with the people you barely know, turns out to be the worst decision of your life?

Or, what if your feelings come into play with this superficial relationship?

It may seem crazy, but spending only a week with Yunho had already made you sublime; you could only dream of experiencing the better half of a relationship because Yunho was certainly the boyfriend material, the exact kind you had been craving for years. As truth would have it, and as it would sting your morales, you had couple of exes who were shitty and contemptibly obnoxious. So, now that you had a man who was ticking off every single wish on your list, the profuse quandaries were messy.

"Princess, did you fall asleep?" he teases you through the phone, his tone making you envisage him smirking.

You might as well—after a hectic day of chemistry lectures coming into a play for your lethargy and hebetude, you certainly didn't mind letting off some steam before falling sleep.

"No, I'm here. I'm just..." you trail off, "...I'm thinking of ways to voice my thoughts."

"Have I ever judged you? Even though for the past week you've told me some really disturbing shit," he laughs, and you retaliate, "and don't act as if you didn't enjoy as much as I did narrating it to you."

"I did. I did," his laughter wrings out to a sigh, "don't think too much, okay? Be openly honest with me, ask me what you want to."

"I don't want to ruin your grocery store trip," you let out a soft titter and could picture him rolling his eyes, "understandable, because grocery shopping is all rainbows and unicorns anyway."

"If you had me there with you, it would've been fun," you mumble, turning on your side to stare the dingy wall of your dorm room.

"If that was the case, we'd probably not even make it to the store." He adds, "and we do not want to piss Seonghwa off. He's not pretty when he gets mad."

You drawl on your lower lip and squeeze your thighs together, "it's hard to believe, but okay."

"Ask, Angel." His stern and commanding tone makes your heart palpitate faster in your chest, fluttering sparks in your pussy as you prepare yourself to question him, "okay, it's a simple question, so...why me?"

"Why you, as in why we asked you to be our fucktoy?" he muses and you groan softly yet again, rolling back on your stomach to hold the pillow tighter under your chest.

"Yes. Why me? Why not someone else—maybe Wooyoung's friend, or San's or you know, Mingi's even." You grit your teeth, nervously chomping on your cheek to rid your anxiety.

Yunho chuckles, heartily, very proudly so because he wasn't sure if he had heard you right or not. "Do you think those losers have any girlfriends, Angel?"

"Why not?" you let a smile fleet on your lips.

"Because Wooyoung is a manwhore, he's slept with entire female population in his department and if it isn't obvious, I'm not interested in someone who could be a prospect carrier for herpes," he titters still, "I'm not slut-shaming him, but—ah well fuck it! I am slut-shaming him. Not my fault, he is a pathetic excuse for a human because hit and run is his specialty. Now, you tell me why any of his casualties would agree to our demands, let alone would want to sleep with us?"

You shake your head, trapping your lower lip with your teeth. "I get it. So, am I supposed to feel special?"

"Hmm, I'd rather consider myself lucky to have a cum-slut like you." you squeeze your thighs again, remembering the two nights you had spent with him. "Hold on a moment, let me park my car first."

You hum, restless and exhausted; your day hadn't been decorous since the morning, and considering you had two consecutive chemistry sessions today, you were definitely drained of your frisky energy. Yet, there's something about Yunho and talking to him while he drives around the town to get to the grocery store; at this point you questioned your motives and abilities—why were you getting turned on by a man driving his car to the store?

Maybe because it was very much attractive in your mind. Him, driving a hatchback (probably, you hadn't seen what car he drives), wearing a dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black shades on his eyes, the dainty rattling bracelets he usually adorns around his wrist—to conclude, the picture you were painting in your mind was the cause of your panties getting drenched.

Silence engulfs you, not necessarily, you could catch up on the soft shuffling sounds his clothes, or even his delicate grunts as he puts the car in park and gets out, slamming the door behind him. Although, there's a momentary hush when his phone gets disconnected from the car Bluetooth; he holds his phone close to his ear, while he straightens out a stray crease falling on his shirt near his waist.

"Angel?" he calls out, breaking your trance of staring at your study desk adjoining your bed, "you're still on line. Are you...?"

"I'm here, I did not fall asleep, though I think I might because of the very tiring day I've had." You pout, shifting on your bed to rest against the headboard, while you bring your legs to your chest.

Yunho chuckles, "ah my dear princess, I am coming over after I'm done with this tedious task. You're not gonna get much sleep then. I'd suggest you take a nap till I get done here."

"Oh." you bite your lips, glancing down at your chest. "Wake me up when you get here, and ah—p-s, I'm not wearing anything under my dress."

You hear him let out a breathy chortle, more like a scoff which taunts you into slipping your free hand to the hem of your silk dress. Coming back from the university, you were too exhausted to care about your outfit. You simply put on a coral shaded silk babydoll which barely covered your ass, with spaghetti straps and called it a day—of course, by also abandoning the underwear. So, you were practically naked under the flimsy silk dress, your breasts loose and hanging, your nipples taut from the friction and they really did poke through the material of your dress.  Both of you are quiet for a minute, but then you're also deeply submerged in the thoughts of him coming to your dorm room and fucking you. An annoying chime of bell dings in the background, followed by a soft sound of mechanical doors sliding open—that brings you down to earth, and so does his grumbling voice.

"An open invitation for me to wreck you in any way I want?" he muses, tittering as he moves past the doors and grabs himself a cart. "Princess, you better know what you're getting yourself into. I won't be gentle."

His warning only makes you wetter, your hand slithering past the hem of your dress to trace your fingers on your wet and slick folds. Biting back a whimper when the warmth of your fingers melts around your skin, you take a deep breath and throw your head behind. You knew your breathing would sound wispy to him if you tried to speak but you couldn't control yourself from not uttering a word.

"Yun—you can do—ahh..." you stutter, pressing your fingers against your mound, just above your clit, "I'll be waiting."

"Is my princess touching herself to the thought of me fucking her raw again?" he slurs his words, merely in a whisper considering he was in public. You were deaf to the somber tunes playing in the mart, you were too busy controlling your raspy breath because your desires were flaming you out.

"Yes..."

Yunho lets out a laugh and shakes his head, muttering under his breath then, "can't wait to taste that tight little cunt of yours. Rest well, princess."

He's the one to hang up on you; rather than throwing an imaginary fit, your mind is filled with the images of his cock straining in his pants as he meanders through the aisles of the supermarket. You might be too over in your head, but the exhaustion was slowly crawling up your spine. In no time you find yourself slipping against the headboard and slumping yourself properly in the bed. And in the few passing minutes, your eyes close and you're drifting away into your dreamland.

Dreamland. An alternate universe where you were living your wildest fantasies—maybe a little too realistically. The resonating voice of Yunho and his words were dwelling on your mind. Your imagination was coming to life, nonetheless in your dream. Soon, you're breathing out whimpers of desperation, squeezing your thighs together and murmuring your moans; you never thought you'd be having wet dreams, but you weren't fazed by the unpredictability. The tingling sensation in your pussy only grows when you envision Yunho with his head buried in between your legs, licking and lapping his tongue in your slit, over and over again.

A harsh tug at your lungs makes you breathe deeply, eyes squinting to the imaginary pleasure you were experiencing—with your brows scrunched together, you knew you were pooling in your lingerie. Though, in your dreams, Yunho doesn't stop, and it feels too real to not react to it; however, in the dark corner of your mind, you feel another presence.

Jongho.

The grinning man stands behind Yunho, arms folded over his chest, lips quivering with his eyes fixated on Yunho. Him watching Yunho eat you out was a turn on you didn't think you'd have. But there he was, with his twinkling gaze not once wavering off of you two. Why was it so hot? Why...? Out of the blue, a knot tied itself in your stomach and your guts loosen; the urge to just let go crosses your hazy mind but you try to hold it in. Until it gets too hard to bear and you're jerked out of your sleep.

You don't know how long it has been but when your eyes crack open, you're in direct contact with your open window and furling curtains. The space holds a beguiling view of the evening merging with the night, dark at the seams and bright in the middle. Purple and orange hues mixing together to a crisp shade of the fore-night; you're immersed in admiring the sky, too much to realize you had been holding yourself in. Though when the dire need starts tickling your stomach again, you rush out of your bed and head to the bathroom to relieve yourself.

Once your conscious clears out, you notice several things which have been cluttering your mind. One, you had a wet dream about Yunho and Jongho, two people you never thought you'd ever dream of. Two, as you're staring at your reflection in the mirror, you discern a wet patch on your dress, right near your lap; the dress must've been wedged in between your thighs when you were having that sensual dream. Three, you are really horny. Really really horny. Which sort of reminds you of yours and Yunho's conversation before you dozed off to sleep.

Biting your lip, you get out of the bathroom and dump yourself on the edge of the bed. Your eyes glance over at your desk to read the time on your alarm clock. 5:56 pm, it read, almost 6:00 pm you thought and heaved out a sigh. You run a hand through your hair and stroke out the tangles with your fingers. Searching for your phone, you find it near your pillow and grab it in a haste. When you watch the screen blare with the notifications, your breath hitches in your throat and then delves deeper down in your stomach.

Ten missed calls from your mom.

"Fuck," you curse under your breath and dial her number.

The ring resonates in your ear, infuriating and anxiety striking; yet you listen to it till it echoes out into the obnoxious droid voice telling you the 'number you've dialed is unavailable. Please try again'. You huff and call again but are met with the same outcome as before and it continues on for the next ten attempts you make to call her. Giving up at what you could remember as your twelfth try, you throw your phone aside and let the anxiety eat you out. How ironic was that, in your dreams it was Yunho, and in reality, it's your own mom.

You were certainly restless, weaving all these uncertain notions about your mom—your father too, but since you and your dad didn't really share much of an intimate bond, you weren't surprised to receive no calls from him. Soon, the anxiety reaches your gut, you're quivering with fear and second thoughts; what if it had been an emergency? What if your mom had something really important to say to you? What if you—what if you were too late to call her back? Everything was eventually gone in the blink of an eye.

Knock! Knock!

Two knocks sound on your door, and you flinch; even though you knew who was at your door, you couldn't shake off your perturbation regarding your family. It was true, you had stood up for yourself when your parents were against you pursuing your higher education in a different state but now all those moments were disappearing into a heap of worries. Did you even make the right decision of coming here? Given, you had scholarship and exempted tuition fee, was your decision to come here really ethical from all other perspectives?

Troubled, you drag your feet to answer the door. A trifling gasp is caught in your throat when instantly you're pushed against the door by someone's burly arms, closing the door in process. You were quite used to Yunho's scent, knowing he always carried around a delicate whiff of amber and peonies. The addicting scent rakes your senses to its fullest when his lips capture yours in a searing kiss. His lips move with yours, one arm around your waist tightly wound to keep you in place while his other hand cups a side of your face. Delighted, but mostly razed by his touches, a frail smile sculpts your lips, and you slide your arms all over his back to hold onto his shoulders.

The worries plaguing your mind soon melt away into the heat of your kiss; you're leaning in for more, diving headfirst into this beautiful mess when you know he's only going to tease you and not give in so easily. You're left whining when he bites down on your lower lip and tugs on it. Watching your lips wobble with a smirk on his plump ones, he chuckles softly and shakes his head. He grabs your jaw and pushes his fingers deep into your cheek for your mouth to open wide.

"Hey, Angel," one of his eyebrow twitches on his forehead when he calls out your name with a smirk. "You asked why you, right? I'll tell you why..."

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and sucks at a random spot on the juncture between your jaw and head. Warm tongue rubs your skin, before his teeth sink in and his lips suckle. You groan at the sensation, your mind numbing to any anxiety you felt before. His hand drops from your waist skims over the hem of your babydoll before diving under to trace it along your inner thigh; his fingertips graze against your wet folds before rubbing you down gently.

You prevent yourself from moaning out loud when his finger moves in and out of your slit at a slow pace. Holding your jaw tightly, he nudges your head back into the door.

"This—this fucking thing you have going," he mumbles against your neck, "I don't care about others and why they want you, but for me it's this—the way you're attuned with my body. And also, how fucking addicting you are to me."

You swallow thickly and throw your head further back against the door, banging yourself but you weren't bothered in the least. Hearing soft crinkles of a polythene bag, you peek at him through your half-lidded eyes; lustful gaze rummages around till your vision fills with the sight of him remaining buried in your neck, sucking deep purple bruises on your skin. The carnal darkness in your room is scattered when the lurid rays of moon wash over your invader. You notice him wearing a long coat over his outfit, you carefully listen to every crinkle of his dainty silver bracelets, and you're definitely lost in the appreciation of his teeth creating blotches on your skin.

"This thing started with us," he adds, a little breathless, "as much as I am willing to share you with my piddling flatmates, I can't pretend to be I'm okay with our arrangement. I'll be jealous, I'll be possessive. At certain times you might even see a side of me you probably won't find too adorable."

"I like it when you get jealous, though," you slur your words, smirking at him diligently. "I'm not sure what it is, but you rather have what belongs to you in your own ruthless ways."

Yunho coughs out a tiny chortle before stepping back and shaking his head; you stumble on your weak feet, watching him shrug off his long coat before flinging it over on the seat of the chair in front of your desk. Sighing dejected, as the anxiety once again starts bubbling under your skin, you make yourself comfortable on the edge of your bed. You kept your eyes on him as he loosens first few buttons of his pastel blue shirt—his bracelets keep chiming in time to time, with every movement of his hands. Just as you pictured him to be dressed; he wore a blue dress shirt adorning thin vertical white stripes and paired it with black trousers and boots. The faded blue hair of his was complementing the look, alongside the bits of silver jewelry he wore. He takes a step close to you and leans over to get to your face level; he slips a polythene bag in your lap and when you inspect into it, there are two plastic containers of peaches and strawberries. Did he get those for you? How thoughtful. He clears his throat, lips ghosting over yours as his arms plant themselves on either side of your thighs, trapping you against the bed this time. 

"The first time I saw you at the bookstore, all lost and bemused, like a deer in headlights—I wanted to ruin your innocence so fucking badly," he murmurs, his hot breath fanning your cheeks, "if only had you taken a peek in my head that day. It's a bit exhilarating, isn't it? —" he nudges you with a subtle nod of his head, his hands tracing along the length of your arms, "—how you had to be Jongho's friend. How you were dragged into this mess."

For the purpose of your sanity, your fingertips grasp onto the plastic containers, tightly so because the proximity between your faces kept on dithering to nothing. Running his hands back and forth along your arms, he trails one up to hold you in place by your neck; you gasp the sensation of his fingers tightening around your throat, sinking into your skin, suffocating you.

He presses his lips against yours in a mere touch to whisper, "maybe it's some sort of fate's blueprint or whatever. I don't really care what it is..." he hums out low and drags his words in a gentle mumble, "but I know there's a spark between us, between our bodies to be so profoundly in sync with each other."

Stifling a moan, you mutter against his lips, "are you done with this banal folly? If you are, then just shut up and fuck me."

He raises an eyebrow at you, a small smirk then fleeting on his lips. "Your wish is my command, princess."

"What...?"

You muse to yourself when he pulls away and takes a step back, he eyes you with a lustful twinkle in his eye and strides towards to the full length mirror you had accommodated beside your study desk for the time being. Your dorm wasn't much, to be honest. It was spacious, yes; a bed to a side, a study desk adjacent to it and other trivial things you had lying around, including a closet to the right side of the door, a mini fridge situated next to it, and to the left side of the door was the bathroom. Single room dormitories were expensive compared to the shared ones, but you didn't like the idea of having a roommate or two even.

"Was this the same mirror you used to send me that picture?" he questions, observing it closely.

"Yeah, what about it?" you place the plastic bag to your side and bite your lip, considering.

"Hmm," he purrs softly and picks the mirror up to place it right in front of you. "Let's set it here, shall we."

"What's on your mind, Yunho?" you whine softly, turning it into a chuckle when he prepares to get down on his knees before you. "Really...?"

As exasperated as your voice is, you can't hide your anticipation of your body when he slides himself closer to you. His hands on your thighs, sear a burn on your skin when he grips your flesh. Thumbs rub circles, till they're pressing down and sinking in; he pushes your legs apart, and you let him do as he pleases. One of his hands is already skimming across your thigh to the hem of your dress, pushing it up till it rolls around your chest. He holds it there, exposing your glistening cunt for his eyes to feast on.

"I said I'd be pining to taste you," he mutters in a breath, and gazes up at you, "so here I am. Unlike others, I deliver what I say, princess. And I've been craving a taste of you for quite a while now—since the day I saw you. But with the mirror in front, you can see it for yourself, the kind of mewling mess you become for my tongue."

He shrugs and pouts, tightening his hand which rested on your thigh, while he prompts you with a nod of his head to hold your dress up. You do as said, letting your trembling fingers clip on the hem of your dress to hold it up. Perusing your glistening cunt with his lust-filled eyes, his lips curl into a sly smirk. He slots himself closer to you, tracing his delicate lips down your abdomen, fluttering kisses which tickle your spine and your spark your cunt. Watching his reflection in the mirror was already fucking you up; but watching his reflection when his head is buried deep in between your legs was certainly savage. 

"And what are those fruits for? You were going to treat yourself, weren't you?" you mumble softly under your breath.

Dropping one hand to stroke his hair away from his forehead, you tangle your fingers in his luscious locks while trying to clasp your lower lip to bite back on any possible moans you might voice. His kisses trace up your stomach, up till he's giving your skin short kitten licks under your breasts. Your fingers pinch his hair, other hand struggling to hold your dress up—his thumbs help you soothe by rubbing circles on your thighs, engulfing you in a trance of comfort and ease.

"Of course, I'm treating myself," he mumbles under his breath, skimming his wet tongue down your abdomen to your stomach again. "Strawberries just taste better, you know."

Scoffing out in bewilderment, he presses a deep kiss just over your belly button and drags his lips slowly down, purposely teasing and nicking his teeth at your skin. You tilt your head back, your lips carved in a sleazy smile when the sensation of his soft lips flutter further down; your fingers tighten their hold on his faded blue locks, while other let's go of your dress. The silky material of your babydoll slips over his head, but he does not seem bothered as he continues littering soft kisses down your belly button.

And then, a moan hitches in your throat, anticipating. You're urged to squeeze your thighs together; only because his hot breaths were caressing your mound. His thumbs carried on rubbing circles in your flesh, soothing you bit by bit. In a way, his placid ministrations were helping you to keep your legs spread from him.

"Hmm, fuck," you gasp, voiceless, under your breath, screwing your eyes shut to the feeling of his soft lips pressing insanely close against your clit.

But you're left high when he pulls back, angling his head up to look at you; he wasn't fond of your dress slipping down your chest and waist, he didn't like it when your skin was covered. If you had the body to flaunt it, then why would you or anyone else want it covered? That was his logic, according to what you could stipulate from the week you had spent with him. Phrases and words like that made you an absolute puddle for him, you'd melt into a cold and sybaritic plash for him—all because you knew he would worship your body like the goddess you are, whenever he had the chance to. He has a chance now; he wasn't going to let it slip.

"You really like to tease me, don't you?" you squeak, listening to some shuffles of his clothes while your eyes peel open. "Now, what?"

"Getting rid of your lingerie," he grunts, huffing out a stubborn breath while lifting your babydoll over your head. Groping a handful of your tits, he buries his face in the valley of your chest and showers your skin with a few kisses. "I'd rather prefer you wearing nothing when you're around me. Can't get enough of this body, can't get enough..." he pauses, mulling over as his fingers dig into your fleshy tit, "...fuck, I'm all out of words to describe what this body means to me. Not just a fucktoy, no. Not at all. This body...hmm, this body should be displayed in a museum for being so fucking perfect. You're perfect for me, princess. Don't think otherwise, or else..."

Or else? You wondered. Not as much as exalting yourself in the way he was slurring his words, rambling even to get his point across. His teeth scratch your skin, his fingers now rolling your taut nipple; his other hand has been on your thigh all along, stroking circles to keep you levelheaded. You whimper at the sensation of his calloused hand kneading and groping one of your tits, while the other wasn't getting the attention it deserved. Turning your whimper into a whine, you look down at him, surprised to find him staring at you with the loudest smirk he could possibly scour.

"Aww, is my princess needy?" he tugs his lower lip out, brows scrunching down at the corners to feign his discretion. "My needy princess will get everything," he mutters against your skin, and leaves behind open mouth kisses when he gets to your other tit. "Hmmfyou—pfneeded—fthis?"

It drives you crazy how he was being muffled by your tit in his mouth; you glance down, biting your lip to avoid yourself from getting too aroused by the sight beneath. Oh lord, were you wrong. His lips had encased themselves around your flesh, tongue lapping and licking at your hardened peck; though, you could not resist being tempted by his doe eyes staring up at you with such nativity in them. His other hand squeezes your other tit, keeps it going till you're blabbering his name in wispy voice.

"Yunho...please," you shudder to the stimulation of your chest.

He hums around your tit, teeth slowly sinking in and biting lightly, his tongue was at it too, slicking it in his spit and unprecedented licks. Muttering a string of incoherent curses to yourself, you let your hand slip from his hair to the back of his neck, gripping tight. His moan gets muffled around your tit, sending spine-tingling vibrations to your cunt. You needed him, now. There was no way you could handle him playing with your chest like this.

He pulls his mouth back, reverberating a 'pop' sound on purpose as he does. "When I first saw you at the bookstore, I imagined you tasted like strawberries or peaches. So..." he blindly reaches out for the plastic containers of fruit he brought with him, while his other remains on your tit, caressing and pinching. "...coming across these at the grocery store was a good trip to the memory lane. I was reminded and I thought why not?"

"Let me devour you, princess."

You don't know what it was, but it was enough to make you leak. And in that while, you couldn't figure out how he got one of the strawberries out of the box you had placed to the side on bed before, and already had it in his mouth. The leaves were off the strawberry, conveniently—as he bites on it, the faint crimson juices slop past his lips and further down on his chin. You wanted to lick him clean. Maybe it was a silent yet coherent thought beeping in your mind, and maybe he had just read your mind. He slithers his hand along your arm and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you down, he lets his lips collide with yours.

Sweet. The redolent taste of strawberries fills up your mouth, eventually, a few bits of it when he forces his tongue in your mouth. There you are, frenching him while he shoves down the broken and mushy pieces of strawberries down your throat. Now, both of your chins are sticky and stained from the juices, though for you, a stray drop trickles past and falls perfectly in between your tits. 

A spark goes off in Yunho's mind when he feels the coldness of the drop dribbling over his hand which still played with your tit. You trace both of your hands to his shoulder and grip them tight, crinkling and creasing his shirt haphazardly—well, as if you cared.  He breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath in, while you're still breathless at how hard his tongue was shoving itself down your throat. A few pieces of strawberry are stuck in the gaps of your cheeks, and you swallow them down as you stare at him.

Picking out another strawberry, Yunho smirks slightly as he brings it to your mouth and prompts you to take a small bite out of it before he engulfs it whole. Again, the juices fill up his mouth, cumulative drops collecting themselves by the edge of his lips—but then don't spill, not until he buries his head back into your chest. A few drops roll down on your skin, his kisses soon turning into open mouth suckles. Pale stains of crimson trail with his mouth as he takes one of your tits in; it was the other one this time. His mouth wraps perfectly around your flesh, sucking and squeezing your tit with his lips and teeth. One of his hands snakes around your waist to rest on the small of your back, while the other cups a side of your face.

"This is awfully freaky," you mumble, dragging one of your hands to play with his hair falling on his nape. "But I like it freaky, you make it seem—ah," you gasp when you feel him give your nipple a gentle tug with his teeth, "—ah fuck, that feels good. So, fucking good..."

Your chest heaves up and down in his face, too bothered by him and his innocent eyes gazing up at you. The warmth of his mouth and the vague gelidity of the strawberry juices dissipates when he detaches himself from your chest; his smirk grows in his cheek, perusing the piece of art he had left behind on your chest. The sticky red strawberry pulp had adhered to your skin quite magnificently and he couldn't be prouder.

"This is just the tip of the iceberg," he winks, swallowing the remnants of fruit in his mouth. "I can get freakier."

Confidence in his eyes strikes you in the best way possible; you for sure know your cunt had drenched your bedsheets by now, all slick with the arousal his mouth was causing.

"Then get freakier, I need more from you."

In the erratic moment of time, he grabs another strawberry from the containers and props it right over your mound. The frigidity of the fruit was searing against your skin, that is only until he had fisted his hand around it and squeezed the life out of it—the pulp and juices trickled down, slotting itself perfectly in your folds and slit.

"Ah, fuck—you fucking bastard," you half-moan-half-chuckle, but it soon turns to an astonished gasp when his hot breath casts itself on your cunt before his wet tongue licks up your slit. "You—fuck—you fucking—you fucking freak!" you succumb to breathlessness and close your eyes tight; clutching his nape with both of your hands, you held onto him for your dear life.

He chortles against your slick folds and delves further down; the tip of his nose nudges with your clit at first, and then slides along your slit. How fucking good did that feel? You moan, your chest ripping itself apart when you do. It was unlike anything you had felt, especially considering pleasures received through oral stimulation. Yunho knew what he was doing, and he was doing it really well. His tongue licks up a stripe, lips sucking around your clit for a hot second before he drags them down to repeat the long and hard licks. You were squirming with a want, the oh-so sweet want of release.

Yunho's hands grip your inner thighs, his thumbs nudge and spread your cunt apart for the remaining pulp and juice of strawberry to roll down in between your folds. He leans in close and picks out the granules with his teeth, biting down softly as he does. It sends tremors under your skin, forces a saccade series of moans and groans out of you while your eyes squint tighter to let out tears. The pleasure was immeasurable, wooing you off into a faraway land of orgasm and joy.

You were delighted, so delighted to find your stomach knotting itself without having to be stimulated with penetration. He continues to lick and suck on your folds, gradually giving your clit some attention with his tongue while his hands groped your thighs and fingers dug in; they were leaving bruises tomorrow, but you were looking forward to it. Those handprints of his, they were going to be something you'd love to show off to your friends or someone.

"Fuck, Yunho. Your mouth—" you take a breath in through your mouth, "—it feels like I'm in paradise."

When your eyes open you see stars twinkling in the corner, your sight was full of them eventually—that is, as he carried on with his ruthless licks and flicks to your clit. The knot was intensifying, if anything, you really were on the verge of letting yourself go and watching you cum all over his face. Your face twitches and you're about...

Ring! Ring! Ring!

The high you once sought to, was now a deliberate low laying fruit; the knot disappears as the blaring sound of your phone's ringtone grows louder. You click your tongue, and blindly swat your hand on the bed next to you to find your phone. As you would recall, you did fling it somewhere when you went to answer the door. However, Yunho wasn't bothered by the deafening rings percolating in the room, he continues. A man on a mission. You mentally groan at that thought and sigh heavily when you find your phone in your hand. Checking the caller ID, you couldn't help but swipe the screen to answer the call.

Mom's calling you. She's calling you back. You needed answers, something to appease you about the ordeal where she felt the need to call you ten times.

Pressing the phone close to your ear and while gasping for air, you mumble, "he-hey mom."

"Oh, hey Angel—wait, did I get you at the wrong time?" you shake your head, trapping your moans in your mouth, "uh-huh, I was worried—I was worried about you and da—and dad. Giving me ten misse—ten missed—fuck."

All breath is knocked out of your lungs when you feel Yunho's tongue slither along your slit and his spit cover you up in its warmth; you're left to drawl on the remaining air in your lungs, specifically when he places his hand on your lower abdomen and forces you to lean behind into the mattress. Your back arches, your hips lift off the edge slightly for him to fix himself better between your legs. The angle your body now holds, gives him the perfect view of your hole. You squirm, wiggling your ass and bucking your hips into his face to get that much needed contact you had been craving for so long.

"Keep it hush, princess," he whispers, glaring up at you, "and watch your mouth when you're talking to your mother, hmm?"

You slightly glance down, hand trembling to hold the phone close to your ear—his face was breathtaking, glistening with your juices and the saccharine scent of the strawberry mixing in with your musk. The tip of his nose goes back to being buried in your slit, while his tongue rolls on your clit till it trails down to your hole.

Knowing where this was headed, you clutch the sheets under you and press your lips together. You so hoped your mom wasn't getting any ideas in her head about why your words were slurred or whimpered.

"Angie, I can call some other time," she murmurs from the other line, reminding you that you were still on call with her.

"Mom, just—just tell me—fuuc—hmmm," you cry out in pleasure when his tongue thrusts into your cunt. "I'm good—I'm good, you had me—hmmm—you had me worried—it's—"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, darling," she interrupts you, her tone soft and gentle. "The thing is, your dad..." she sighs and continues, "...in the last quarter of your dad's business—we're going under, Angel."

She comes straight to the point and bemused you; but your mind is occupied with Yunho's tongue shoving in and out of your cunt, slurping your juices, squelching your fleshy folds, and pressing the tip of his nose against your slick slit. You were done for better this time. The familiar knot ties itself in your stomach again. This time, your body rather hoped you'd get to come undone and release your tension all over his face. But, Yunho had some different ideas in his mind.

Hearing a bit of static from the other side, your mom continues, "you're understanding the weight of this situation, right? It brings me no peace to tell you that," she pauses and you hum, sinking your teeth further down in your lower lip as Yunho's tongue carries on with the abuse, "we can't support your accommodation, Angel. The tuition is already paid for, which we have no concern about since you're on your scholarship—but your dormitory fees, they'll be—you'll have to pay them yourself. Maybe, get a job? Or look for a new residence, where you have to share your rent?"

Her words were going over your head, regardless you were able to catch up on few phrases which sounded important and held grave promise to them. 'Look for a new residence.' Okay. 'Get a job?' Surely something you weren't looking forward to. But 'sharing a house with strangers?'A big no-no.

Though, all you could do was nod along and release your lip from your teeth to mumble, "sure—sure, fine. I'll—mom, I'll call you later at night—I promise, I'm busy—fuck."

The moment the curse escapes your mouth in the form of a moan, you hang up the call and squint your eyes shut; Yunho was thumbing your clit at an accelerated pace, stroking circles to let your orgasm delve deeper into your soul. Your phone slips out from your hand, falling down on the ground with a subtle thump while you bring both of your hands to rest them around his neck. Oh how tempted were you to push his head down, to make his tongue reach deeper into your swollen cunt.

"Fuck, Yun—Yun, I was on call—I was on a fucking call with my mom—fuck, couldn't you—couldn't you tone it down?" you stutter, trying to steady your erratic breath. 

Yunho hadn't stopped thrusting his tongue into you, neither had he stopped stroking your clit with his thumb—he doesn't utter a word and continues to do so. You were done with his teasing, huffing to yourself, you push his head down against yours cunt; now his tongue reached deep, submerged completely in your flesh and your walls clenched tightly around him.

"Yes, fuck, yeah, feels good. So good," you drool, throwing your head back and arching yourself to let the pleasure wash over you.

More importantly, your orgasm was only a few thrusts away; maybe a few flicks of his thumb could have you mewling at him as you release all over his tongue and face. The imaginary sight in your mind was riling you up in the worst ways already—you wonder what it'd be like if it were to come to life. Now that you do think about it, your dream comes crashing through—merging with the reality to spread goosebumps on your skin. Just imagining Jongho being present in the room, watching you get fucked by Yunho's tongue, was pushing you further to your edge.

"Yunho...? I'm—" you tap his shoulder twice, but he doesn't budge and continues to push his tongue in your cunt.

"Fuck." You yell and then scream out his name when you feel your walls clenching around his tongue one last time, "Yunho!"

His thumb stops toying with your clit, but his face remains buried in between your legs, his thumb having quit shoving itself into your cunt. You're flooding down his face, squealing and mumbling his name under your breath in a voiceless chant before catching a beat to respire properly. In the daze of your orgasm hitting you like a bucket of bricks, you hear him hum and nuzzle his head further into cunt; a second passes by in the heat of the moment, and he reels himself back. Leaning away eventually, he straightens himself and wipes his face with the back of his hand, getting some of your slick on the sleeves of his shirt.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out.

"Insane to get my princess cum on my face," he chuckles and shakes his head, "I hope you're feeling better now because I felt you tense up when you were talking to your mother."

He begins unbuttoning his shirt, one by one he undoes the button and shrugs his shirt off his shoulders. Exposing his toned body, he throws his shirt off to somewhere and gets on his feet. You're still trapped in the stupor of your orgasm, to even notice him shimmy out of his pants. Clad in his black briefs, he leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

"I've got a problem, Yunho," you murmur, and he nods, "and is it bad enough to keep us from fucking?"

Rolling your eyes you scoff, ready to shove him away, "are you really thinking with your dick, right now?"

He traces his lips down your jaw, leaving behind open mouth kisses along your skin to your neck. His hands roamed to her bare back, skimming his fingertips up front till he drags them painstakingly slow to your stomach and then further to your clit. You hug his shoulders, tight enough to hold onto him.

"You are less tense now, princess. I'm guessing my tricks are working, so...why won't I think with my dick?" he chuckles, kneeling down before you to slot himself between your spread legs.

"It's not about that, Yunho," your whine, suppressing a titter to yourself. "I'm practically homeless."

"What?" he gasps, amused and pulls back to stare at you, a confused smile sculpting on his lips.

"My parents are having some financial troubles; they are falling short to pay me for my accommodation," you pout, noticing the tent in his briefs, "so, I have to find a new place to live. And I don't where I can find an affordable apartment."

The worry lines on your forehead, concerns Yunho too. He licks his lower lip and sighs, "Angel, you can live with us."

"What now?" you massage circles into his shoulders as you hold them.

"Yeah, we've got a spare room in the loft. Well, Jongho occupied it not too long ago, but he can surely move back in with Mingi." He explains, wrapping his hands around your waist, "you don't have to pay us rent because you're going to be paying us in a different way...in all, it's the best arrangement you could ever ask for."

You think, muse and contemplate. To one side of your head you were agreeing with his proposition, but on the other side, you were marred with the thought of living with eight men out of which five were sexually interested in you and two had already fucked you good. Well, you're given no choice but to agree and get along with his deal.

"Hey, you don't have to give me an urgent answer," he mumbles, thumbing the sides of your waist, "after we're done here, you can come on over and we'll talk it out with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Capisce?"

"Why, are they supposedly the alpha males of the household?" you joke, giggling softly.

"Technically," Yunho shrugs, "Hongjoong owns the loft and he was generous enough to let us stay and share the rent. It started with me and Seonghwa, others eventually joined us through mutual friends—it was the beginning of our freshman year, so..."

"I'd need their permission?"

Yunho scoffs playfully, "princess, no. They'd be happy to welcome you in. But this is supposedly my suggestion and I fall a little short on making such decisions as compared to them. It's better if you talk with Hongjoong."

You sigh, "fine."

A smile fleets on your lips and it delves deeper in your cheek. "So, are you going to ease my mind or not?"

"You don't need to tell me twice, princess," he smirks, diving in to kiss you passionately so.

You kiss back with the same want, same heat crawling up your gut as his; the intensity wasn't dithering, neither was your anticipation. He pushes you back on the bed till you're laying under him and he straddles your lap. The kiss never stops, even when he fumbles with the waistband of his briefs to get them off in a haste. He somehow manages to tug his briefs down till his knees and his hard cock pokes your inner thigh, until the tip of his cock brushes past your lower stomach. His hands are back on you, holding your neck to position you better to deepen the kiss; his tongue wriggles its way in your mouth. For the moment it does, you feebly taste the redolence of strawberries and your cum on his tongue. There goes without saying, you still couldn't believe he let you cum on his face.

But who's to judge his preferences? You aren't a saint either. Definitely not.

Moaning into the kiss, you drag your hands up his back and let your fingertip tickle his skin. Breathless, Yunho breaks apart from the warmth of your mouth, missing the way his tongue was shoving down your throat, and uses one of his hands to pump his cock, while his other supports his weight when he places it next to your head. His back arches, his fingers stroking the reddened tip of his cock as bits of precum drips from the slit—he angles his hand in a way to spread his precum along the shaft with the palm of his hand.

"Fuck," he grunts, closing his eyes shut tight and continuing to pump his cock into his hand.

For you, this was definitely a sight more than breathtaking to witness. How often do you see a pretty blue haired man stroke his cock so eagerly for you? It went on to show how sorely he needed you and yearned to fuck your cunt. This only takes you back to the time when he had railed you so good and hard; you knew it he was untamed and being so feral with that huge cock, was indeed going to deliver the best.

You let out a soft whimper, adding in to the gentle sounding moans of his. Insane, absolutely insane. His moans were pretty, just like him and you know you could never get enough of him moaning.

"Take a deep breath for me, princess," he indicates you with a nudge of his head while he opens his eyes to look at you.

Taking a breath, you prepare yourself for his cock. He chuckles at you, admiring your intrepidity as he eases himself into you. Your face contorts in pain, with only his tip submerging in you. Knowing the pain would soon subside into pleasure, however it doesn't. Your brows twitch and your eyes squint tight enough for tears stream down the side of your face; your mouth falls agape, wide to the ache your walls sensing with the stretch.

"Ah—Yunho!" you gasp out loud, breaking out into a yell. "It hurts, stop."

And he stops. With same ease, he guides his cock out of you and cups your face immediately after noticing the tears in your eyes. You flutter your gaze across him, a little blurry but you still discern the concern etched on his face. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, voice gentle and wispy. "Am I hurting you?"

"It just," you hiccup, "it hurts like hell when you..."

"Oh," he trails off, "is it because of last week? I think it is. I was too rough back then, wasn't I?" Sighing, his caresses your cheeks and leans in to kiss a stray drop of your tear away from your lips, "you're not used to such a huge cock, are you? It's fine. I'll have to be more careful with you next time—were you feeling any discomfort after that night?"

"I'm not sure, I felt sore and really raw at that time. Maybe I couldn't decry between vaginal tears and soreness," you mumble, assuring him with a faint smile before continuing, "look, it's not your fault. I failed to identify—"

"God, Angel," he groans, "it's not your fault, and for fucks sake put the blame on me. I should've been gentle with you for the first time. You're not used to it—ugh, never mind, I'll have to get you used to my size otherwise..."

"I'll be fine, stop worrying so much," you cup his face in your palms and reassure him. "Now, can we just...let's just forget about it and focus on making you feel good. It's only fair if I return the favour."

You lick your lips and let your tongue poke out through your lower lip; glancing down at his still hardened cock, you drool and your eyes twinkle with lust. He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes.

"I am not so fond of blow-jobs," he says, smirking and then looking around till his eyes fixate on your chair and study desk. "Get on your feet, I've got a better idea." He then stands up and holds his hand out for you.

"Okay, mister," you roll your eyes and set your wobbly feet down, grabbing his extended hand before pulling you close to his body.

Your naked bodies crash into each other and heat emanates from both of you; his arms wrap around your waist and tug you around. He positions you in front of the chair, and pushes you down by the small of your back to have you leaning over the chair. He's right behind you, situating his cock perfectly against your ass which was raised high in the air.

"Legs apart," he whispers his command too close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Slapping your inner thighs, he establishes a small distance between your legs and slips himself into it, his cock slides easily amid your thighs, a little below your folds. The tip of his cock rubs against your slit, rubbing back and forth—you're driven wild with the sensation, and even more so when his hands grope your thighs from behind. His fingers dig, sink in tight enough for bruises to appear. Again, you looked forward to it, being decorated with his marks. Perfect for a possessive man like him.

"Fuck, this is your idea to make yourself cum?" you dreamily laugh out, throwing your head behind on his chest.

"Your thighs feel godly, princess," he susurrates, licking up the shell of your ear before biting down hard on your earlobe. "Squeeze them."

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together to feel his cock slip in and out at a steady pace. He bucks his hips a little higher to let himself rub against your slit in long and consistent strokes. This was certainly new to you, yet you were getting stimulated close to your second orgasm. You didn't think you would because this wasn't the same as the time he had actually penetrated you. There's no space for you to complain, you were slipping close into the world of pleasure and sensuality to give a damn about whether his cock was pounding in you or fucking your thighs.

"Fuck, just as I fucking thought—just as I fucking imagined what it would be to fuck your thighs," he whimpers close to your ear and later on you realise he was leaning over to kiss your cheek. "Princess, you've got unquestionably the best thighs to fuck. So thick, so tight—just fucking perfect."

You know he had lost it riding himself in between your thighs but you, on the other hand hadn't quite recovered from your last orgasm yet. Or even figured out how you weren't alerted to your vaginal injuries. It'd be unfair to call them injuries, they were basic nicks in the muscles of your vagina and cervix, from tremendous and tedious sexual activity. Pushing those thoughts to the far corner of your mind, your knuckles turn white while holding onto the chair, you were starting to get hot and bothered—so close to your orgasm again.

His cock thrusted along your cunt, hard and slick with his precum, which supposedly provided enough lubrication for his strokes to be smooth and pleasant. Your skin was covered with it however, and you were resisting to picture how his cum would paint your thighs. Picking up his pace, he thrusts faster yet keeps them long and sharp. Your walls clench around nothing, while your stomach drops to your knees; your legs buckle under you, under the weight of sensory overload his cock was proffering.

He flattens his palms on your thighs and gives you light slaps on either of your thighs, "we need to keep them thick and fleshy like this. I bet others would enjoy fucking them as much as I am right now."

"Hmhm, yeah..." you moan, shutting off your cognitive dissonance and mumbling along with him, "thick for you—thick for Seonghwa—thick for everyone."

"Ah, you're already blabbering bullshit, aren't you?" he titters heartily, pulling his hips back and driving them in sharply. "My cock makes you dumb, doesn't it? Hmm...a pretty little slut like you would be dumb for anyone's cock, isn't it?"

His taunts make you shake your head, lips parting to whimper, "no, fuck, only for you—only for you, Yunho."

"That's what I thought," he gasps, increasing his back and rattling his hips into yours.

His death grip is back on your thighs, his eyes are shut tight as he lurches forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder; sweaty chest presses up against your back, while you hold onto the chair for your dear life and to sedate the tremors his thrusts which caused your body to keel. The same tightness grows heavy in your gut, your spine tingling with how close you were to your second orgasm—your nails scratch off the varnish on the chair, scrapping bits of wood in them as he plunges his cock ruthlessly in between in your thighs. You squeeze them firmly, sensing the knot coming undone in your lower belly.

"Are you going to cum for me, princess?"

You nod your head, closing your eyes shut and leaning back into his touch; the heat creeps up your stomach and in a second's beat, the tension slips into comfort. You're releasing all over his cock, splashing on his and your thighs, a bit on the floor too. This time, you were knocked out for good; this orgasm was far more intense than the last one, far more overpowering too. You're mumbling his name like a chant, while he lets a laugh rumble in his chest.

"Fuck, my princess really made a mess on my cock, and everywhere else." he adds, "now, be a good little whore and help me cum too."

Without any warning, he goes even harder and faster than before, causing your body to convulse to his relentless thrusts. His untamed desire was evident in the way his fingers were bruising your skin, how tightly he was groping your thighs to stable himself from his ever increasing pace of his thrusts. He could go for long, and he does; your brain is turned to a mush in regard to the time or energy—his cock keeps hitting your folds, and the tip keeps abusing your clit.

You were past the point of sanity, breaking apart at the seams with your foul mouth screaming out his name and moaning it as if he was your god—technically, he was starting to show you stars, galaxies and miracles behind your shut eyes. All this from only rubbing himself between your thighs; it makes you wonder how much wilder the sex would get once you get to move in with him. Those ideas are for later, right now, you were vicious with his cock.

"Princess, I'm close. Don't worry—fuck—squeeze them tighter, for me—fucking please," he babbles out in despair, and you clasp your thighs even tighter on his cock.

"Fucking perfect."

He words out in a heavy breath, bucking his hips in your thighs as the tip of his cock remains close by your slit; heaving out, the warmth of his cum coats your folds and your slit. Gradually, he starts pulling back, still letting his cum sputter on your skin before he releases all of him on your ass and back. A few of it streaks down your butt-crack, eventually seeping down your butthole. You're groaning out in pleasure and possibly due to overstimulation. Nonetheless, you were satisfied, more than satisfied to know he had painted your back with his cum.

You're both breathless when he leans away from your shoulder and steps back; his small laugh resonates around you before dissipating into a soft titter.

"Princess, you just fucking know how to take a cock, don't you?" he mumbles in his post-orgasm daze, while grabbing his trousers to pull out his handkerchief. "Well, let's get you cleaned and then we'll take a shower together. We are both...sticky."

"Sounds good to me," you manage to gibber, not sure if it was audible or not. "I could use a hot shower and thorough cleaning after this."

"Hmm, I'll gladly help you clean."

You're too weak to turn around, so he helps you swivel on your feet while he holds your body close to his for support. Lethargic and drained, your eyes were closing themselves involuntarily. It was the lack of sleep—the sleep deprivation was slowly catching up with you.

"Keep your eyes open, princess. I need you here with me, okay?" his voice soothes a nerve in your mind, and you nod, opening your eyes. "Guess I'll have to be quick."

"Of course."

The rest of the evening, basically half-evening-half-night goes by smoothly. You both did take a shower together without engaging in anything and got rid of the sweat and stench of sex—but unfortunately, your room still reeked of sex, sweat and cum. You didn't care. Not particularly when you were dragged out of your dorm room by Yunho, after getting dressed in fresh clothes. You wore a long and oversized hoodie, shaded black and didn't bother wearing shorts or pants underneath as it covered most of your skin. To your surprise, as soon as you had your lip gloss on (because you liked lip gloss more than lipsticks), he had your hands intertwined and he was pulling you out of the door. He was eager for you, and the seemingly harmless arrangement you were about to propose to Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

You would've never guessed that this man drives a red corvette stingray if you hadn't been strapped in the passenger's seat of his car. An innocent looking man like him, driving such a flashy sports car, was indeed a shock to you. Looks can be deceiving, so who really cares? Everything passes by you in a blur when he speeds down the road; eventually, the city lights turn into streaks of neon haze and starbursts, until you're by the complex where his loft was located. He parks his car, and helps you out. Your hand in his, he guides you in and takes you to the loft.

Your heart is in your throat, not because you were back to this place with Yunho by your side but because you were too scared to anticipate Hongjoong's and Seonghwa's judgment on your proposition. This has to go well, and it will. Right? You have Yunho with you. What could possibly go wrong?

Yunho unlocks the door and pushes it to usher you inside. His hand never leaves yours; his grip doesn't loosen up for even a second as his pulling you further up to the living room. You and he had taken off your shoes in a haste and did not bother slipping into the house slippers. However, the commotion of your footsteps and Yunho's constant murmurs of 'it'll be okay', 'they won't bite you' and 'just relax' had gotten certain attention from the people sitting on couch.

You're soon greeted with San and Jongho, especially Jongho who has a twinkling and excited smile carved on his face. Both of them were seated on the couch, San having a laptop perched on his lap while Jongho made his observations on the screen—they were clad in their night clothes, San wearing a pair of black pajamas with white cats all over it and Jongho, a pastel blue pajama set with brown bears on it.

"Angel!!" he glees, catching your glimpse next to Yunho, "what brings you here so late at night?" his tone simmers down to being confused.

San adds, "yeah, it's not our game night tonight."

"Guys, stop pestering her, okay?" Yunho groans, looking around, "where are Hongjoong and Seonghwa?"

"Seonghwa's in the kitchen—"

"What is it Jongho...oh hey, Angel!" Seonghwa interrupts Jongho and quickly turns it into an elated greeting. "Should I be concerned for you to make your appearance this late into the night—can't ignore the fact that Yunho's here too. Are you two eloping?"

He's walking out of the kitchen, draped in a variedly stained apron and a wooden spatula in his hand. He looks gorgeous as usual, covering his white turtleneck and black trousers with a grunge red apron—not only his outfit made you quiver, but his hair was also pushed back and tied in a small ponytail behind. If he looked this alluring even when you move in, then you don't think you'd be able to resist the urge to suck him off every time he appeared in front of you.

Yunho clears his throat, aggressively and it becomes a series of wretched coughs till he's gasping for air. "Don't go too hard on me, Hwa. You know how I am."

"Fuck your preferences, Yun," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, "what is the point in bringing Angel here?"

"Well, I'll let her explain it," Yunho sighs, giving you a nudge of his head.

"Uhh, yeah, I need to talk," you mumble, scratching the back of your neck with your other hand.

Your words alert Jongho and San, and they're saturated completely on you, regardless of a certain video playing on San's laptop. Seonghwa hums along, encouraging you with a nod of his head while biting his lower lip. Yunho only stares at you, keeping a frail smile on his face.

"So, go on."

A coarse yet pitched voice booms through the room, followed by nifty footsteps of the man you had been waiting to come. You assumed he was in his room or something, but not thinking he could be at work. Hongjoong strides in, running one of his hands through his hair and other stuffed in the pocket of his jogger shorts. You watch him adorning a black tank top over his toned chest and nothing else; his complexion was striking but wasn't as pale as Yunho. A pop of melatonin makes his skin a little tanned.

"I suppose, Yunho bringing you here is rather crucial for you." He says, walking over to sit next to Jongho. Spreading his legs apart and relaxing back on the couch, he repeats, "go on, Angel."

You clear your throat, "I—I actually—I actually need a place to stay. My parents—"

"—she's in no condition to pay for her university accommodation, so she's looking for a new place to stay. I asked her to come with me since we have a room to spare," Yunho interjects, his eyes trailing over at Jongho, "you'll have to move back in with Mingi, baby bear. You're understanding enough, right?"

Jongho ponders for a minute before silently nodding, "sure. I don't mind. Angel needs it more than me."

You can't help but crack a smile at him, heart palpitating faster in your chest. Yunho could hear your heartbeat, and he squeezes your hand to ease you out. Seonghwa notices it and smiles to himself, shaking his head at the two of you before excusing himself from the living room and going back into the kitchen.

Hongjoong finds it amusing, his lips twisting in a knowing smirk before he asks you, "that's not the issue, Angel. What I need to know from you is—rather what I'm aching to hear from you is, your riposte to my proposed idea of you..."

"I agree to it," you're too quick to reply, taking the man off guard and others too.

San remains confused because he had no clue what you were talking about. Now that he is here, does it mean he'll also be involved in this reverse harem thing you have going on with others? If San gets involved then would the others be involved too? Of course you're thinking about Wooyoung and Mingi, one is a reputed manwhore and other is a man who resents you. That too for no apparent reason—or for something you don't know.

"You do?" Jongho squeals, questioning you.

"Yeah, I don't mind being your..." you trail off, glazing your eyes over at San.

From the kitchen, you hear thudding of metal dishes and spoons, soon Seonghwa comes rushing out with his wooden spatula.

"She agrees?" he asks, and Yunho nods, "she said she'd need more time to think about it, but I guess..."

"Are you agreeing to it because of your living conditions, Angel?"

There it was, Hongjoong comes straight to point. Even his stare was detrimental for you, and how insanely intense it was to pierce through yours. Hongjoong clearly liked to dominate submissive women like you—he has how own share of kinks and customs he likes to follow in the bedroom. And some of them, might seem too unconventional. You didn't want your mind to stray too far off, but he seemed like the type who definitely delighted himself in playing with chains and cuffs.

"I'm not!" you retort, explaining yourself further, "I gave it some thought and I don't think it's a bad idea."

Your pout melts through the stubborn and ice cold heart of Hongjoong's—for a man with domineering aura, he sure is letting himself submit to you. He doesn't let his stoicism waver on his face, rather his purses his lips together and spreads his legs apart further.

"Don't think it's a bad idea?" he repeats your words in coherence to your judgement, "Angel, we don't want you doing anything you are uncomfortable with. Your consent means a lot to us."

"And you have it," your pout grows, and you vaguely point at Seonghwa and Yunho, "I've already gone to the extreme with him and him."

Hongjoong chuckles, and keeping his lips parted, his canines rest against his lower lip, "we'll add it to the very list of your sex chronicles with us."

Your face heats up and turns red, before you could open your mouth to retaliate, San pipes in, "so, you've discussed this before? She's our new...fucktoy?" he cringes thereafter, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his face in disgust, "with all due respect, let me rephrase, you are our new arrangement to satisfy our sexual desires?"

You nod, your heart hammering in your chest. "Yeah, one and only."

"Are you really sure, Angel?" Jongho wants a confirmation from you and smile at him, wide and bright, wanting to erase his doubts. "Then I guess we no longer have to wait for your answer."

Seonghwa chimes in, "so, when are you moving in?"

"Oh, once this month gets over. There's only a week left anyway," you shrug, smiling a little, "I'll start packing right away."

Yunho hugs you from behind, kissing your neck; first you're caught off guard, second, he's doing this right in front of everyone and third, his scent was driving you crazy.

"I'll help you." He mumbles against your skin.

"Yunho, you know the ground rules," Hongjoong threatens and the man who was sticking to you like glue before, now detaches himself from you in an instant. "So, less P-D-A."

"Ugh, ground rules," Yunho whines, but steals a kiss from your cheek. "I'll go get changed and you are staying over tonight. Let's have dinner together, shall we?"

"Of course!" San sings, "we'll get to know you better too. I bet Wooyoung would be pretty excited to know more about you."

"Speaking of him, where is he?" Hongjoong inquires and Jongho answers, "it's the peak hour, where else would he be?"

Hongjoong nods, getting his answer and Seonghwa sprints back into the kitchen not long before announcing, "we've got enough food for you too, so you're staying here."

You quietly agree to him and swallow thickly, striding over to sit on the lone chair adjacent to the couch. That's when Mingi comes into the room from upstairs, his hair tousled and messy, wearing grey sweatpants and a grunge green graphic sweatshirt. He eyes you as he crosses the living room, glaring at you to set his point through. He didn't want you here. But, he couldn't go against Hongjoong's or Seonghwa's wishes.

"Look who's finally out of their room!" Jongho cheers, laughing and joking around before clearing his throat and informing Mingi, "oh well, guess what, Mingi. I'm shifting myself back into your room. Angel's moving in with us and taking over the spare room."

"What?" Mingi grunts, burning his eyes on you, through you, in all hating your presence in the room altogether.

"Y'all really addicted to this whore's cunt, aren't ya? Keep me out of your fucking deal. I ain't getting involved." 

And that fucking hurt your soul. But you keep quiet and while you're at it, Yunho walks in the heated room—Hongjoong and the others are about to defend you when Yunho does it himself. He adorns a conceited smirk and folds his arms over his chest, they bulge out through his grey hoodie somehow, but your eyes travel down to somewhere where they shouldn't have. His jogger shorts are too thin to show off the outline of his cock, he wasn't hard, but he was huge. Why are you drooling on his cock when you're having trouble in paradise? Not that you hadn't seen his cock before. And you are his damsel in distress.

"That's more for us then, Min." Yunho steps closer to him and gets all in his face,

"If you're not involved in this with us, then it's one less person we'll have to share her with."

M.list ┃ Previous ┃ Next

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Maggie interview with Murray Scougall for The Sunday Post, 10.7.2023

Having played a small role in the first season, she made such an impression on Gaiman, whose other work includes The Sandman and Coraline, that he wrote a new, bigger part for her.

“In the middle of lockdown, in the bleakest period when I couldn’t envisage a time when the creative arts would exist again, I received an email from Neil informing me he was writing season two, and that he was writing a part for me and she would be called Maggie, so that there would be no confusion in casting.

“He asked if it was something I would be interested in, and once I stopped crying, I emailed back and said, yes please!”

“The first series was Neil writing a love letter to his pal Terry, and I thought it was finished with after season one since we’d done the book. But he could write whatever he wanted for season two since it was all in his head, and he decided to bring back the people he liked to work with. He said I’d brought joy to the set during the first season.”

Maggie was involved with Good Omens from its inception. Invited to a script read-through for Gaiman and the TV executives during pre-production, she made such a good impression that she was cast as demonic nun, Sister Theresa Garrulous. When she was killed off, Maggie thought it was the end of the adventure, but instead it was only the beginning.

“In the first season, I had no scenes with David or Michael, so to work with their characters in the second season felt like an out-of-body experience. It’s extraordinary what they bring to the parts. And the green room was ridiculous – some days I was looking around, thinking I was the only person there I hadn’t heard of!

“We filmed in Bathgate, where they turned the studio into the streets of Soho. It was incredible. We had electric cars, 350 supporting actors, and every corner, brick and poster on the walls looked phenomenal.”

She hopes her role in Good Omens 2 proves to be a pivotal moment in her career. “I have a beautiful character arc this season and there are some pretty boss moments, which are divine,” she said. “This does feel like a significant moment in my career. Because I’ve never been here before, it’s difficult to see into the future of what it might be, but to get a story arc like this and to do things I’ve never had a chance to do on screen before will, I hope, shift things, because I love working and hope to do more.

“This feels like a weird time because it’s been nearly two years since we received the scripts for the new series and it’s been our little secret, now it’s about to go out and it’s quite a cool moment to see it go free.

“I’m hopeful that people who haven’t seen me before will see me in this. Whatever happens, I’ll keep saying yes to things and try to bring joy wherever I can.”

[tanuki-kimono]

I've been trying to write something about the Meiji era with a young woman who (EXTREMELY anachronistically I know) is a note-taker in a court of law. I cannot for the life of me figure out what a woman would wear in that situation. What are your thoughts?

Hi! As you said, the situation you describe is quite an anachronism ^^; I am not familiar with Meiji law system, but I highly doubt a woman, especially a young one, who'd have been allowed in such official position (TBH, I am not even sure "court" as you envisage it was truly a thing before very late Meiji/Taisho).

With that said, it depends of the exact time + the means of your character;

in early Meiji, go for kimono without a doubt, more or less fancy is up to you but court would be quite a formal setting.

In late Meiji, you can get a bit more leeway and add Westernized elements (but please note that full Western dress was only a thing for rich women). If you go a tad informal, go for the trademark "working" look of kimono+hakama which was very popular for girls/young women

Mitate+ has a good overiew of the period (text in French but lot of pics!) => Meiji / Taisho

I don't know if it's your reference, but maybe have a look at characters in the games of the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles serie - the Meiji era inspiration in veeery loose ;)

[y2klostandfound]

Sony Aibo on Science et Vie Micro Issue 179 (02-2000)

Translation in English:

Japanese convergence

Twice this year, Sony has marketed its robotic Aibo, a luxurious toy for spoiled children. But the beast could soon change its vocation.

In two, even three years, Aibo, man's best cybernetic friend, could make friends with the Playstation 2! If, currently, the Aibo mainly resembles a gadget for privileged wealthy people, and which we tire of relatively quickly, Sony has other ambitions for future models. His project, in addition to a more affordable price, aims to develop an interface that would allow you to connect your Aibo to another of its great successes: its Playstation game console. Rather clever: with nearly 40% of Sony's profits in 1998 coming from the division which takes care of the video games activity (SCE), the Playstation has become a major business for the Japanese electronics giant.

Aibo on Playstation The Playstation 2 is announced commercially in Japan from March. This new version of the first game console is already making many people dream: not only does it have exceptional computing power, but it is also equipped with sophisticated connectivity. The public's reception promises to be enthusiastic, so this should make it the ideal platform for the Aibo! The latter currently uses an 8 or 32 MB Memory Stick to store its programmed behaviors. Thanks to a remote control which emits sound signals, it is possible to transmit a few simple orders. The next generations should of course go further. Among other things, it would be possible to download a program or a series of instructions created on Playstation 2 directly into the beast.

A multitude of possible applications can be envisaged. For example, an introduction to programming, inspired by the Logo language for children: but instead of moving a "turtle" in the two-dimensional space of a computer screen, it would be the robot that would follow the programmed path.

Another possible application: a "player" could program a route or a mission (forbidding "intruders" from his room, checking the presence in a given place of a person whose "visual signature" or "voice print" the Aibo knows), or even a joust with a friend's Aibo (race, jumping competition or other free figures…). All this could even be accomplished via a virtual Aibo that you move around with the joystick like in some kind of video game, rather than entering lines of code or macros. Once the room had been simply modeled in 3D using primitives (cubes, cylinders, etc.), the virtual robot would then have to be moved around this 3D world, an exact copy of the house, before the Aibo could actually perform the maneuver.

Meet with aibo on: www.world.sony.com/aibo/index.html

[thorin-baggins]

Ok I have a theory and it’s that whenever someone tries to paint a single character in the LotR trilogy (book or film) as THE hero they’re all wrong. I don’t think there is A singular hero in the entire series. To me Tolkien envisaged the LotR trilogy to be some sort of parable about how when multiple people choose to do the right thing evil can be overcome and, at least in my opinion, putting all the heroics on one character is missing the point of the series. Others have probably said this better lol but 🤷‍♂️

[kwebtv]

TV Guide -  May 16 - 22, 1964

Sir Alfred Joseph Hitchcock, KBE, (13 August 1899 – 29 April 1980) Film director and producer, at times referred to as “The Master of Suspense”. He pioneered many elements of the suspense and psychological thriller genres. He had a successful career in British cinema with both silent films and early talkies and became renowned as England’s best director. Hitchcock moved to Hollywood in 1939 and became a US citizen in 1955.

Along with Walt Disney, Hitchcock was among the first prominent film producers to fully envisage just how popular the medium of television would become. From 1955 to 1965, Hitchcock was the host of the television series titled Alfred Hitchcock Presents. While his films had made Hitchcock’s name strongly associated with suspense, the TV series made Hitchcock a celebrity himself. His irony-tinged voice and signature droll delivery, gallows humour, iconic image and mannerisms became instantly recognizable and were often the subject of parody. (Wikipedia)

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 4: Maybe We're Not So Crazy

Raining Hellfire Series | Season One

Word Count: 7,926 words. (I swear this is short for me)

Warnings: swearing, flashbacks to past trauma, mentions of stalking, Barb missing

[A/N: yet again, this is me attempting to add both reader and eddie to the storyline. This one is rushed so I'm sure I've made many mistakes oops. also justice for karen wheeler in this story she's adorable]

Maybe We're Not So Crazy

“Miss, do you know why we have brought you here?”

“...Yes.”

“So you remember what happened?”

“Yes.”

“So you know who died?”

“…”

“Y/n? Do you remember who died?”

You woke up with a silent scream.

You didn’t even realise you had fallen asleep. You sat up from your mess of blankets on the floor, looking to your bed. El was still asleep. Peaceful.

After regaining your focus, you made your way to the living room to find a much different sight. Dustin and Lucas had, at some point, created forts for themselves out of the blankets and various chairs in the space. And they were now throwing pillows at eachother.

“Hey!” You raised your voice and they jumped, throwing both their pillows at you instead. You caught them easily.

“Woah. Killer reflexes.” Dustin gawked.

“This isn’t… what it looks like?” Lucas shrugged awkwardly. There was no hiding this mess.

“What is going on? Why are you doing this?” Their friend had just been found dead in a quarry and they were acting like it was just another normal thing.

Both of them brought their gaze to the floor, clearly hearing the disappointment in your words.

“We just needed a distraction.” Dustin finally spoke, his words barely a whisper and you knew you messed up.

“Hey, hey, come here.” You said as they both walked into your embrace. You held them tightly.

“I get it, I was just… worried you might wake up El. That’s all.”

“Right. El.” Lucas mumbled, but the grip of his hug didn’t loosen.

“Okay, we need to get you ready to get home to your parents.” You pulled away from them with a small smile. “How about you clean this up, I’ll make waffles and we'll just deal with the day one step at a time?”

“Okay.” They both said, cheering up slightly at the mention of food.

To experience the death of someone close to you, especially at their age, had to be confusing and infuriating. They were old enough to understand and grieve. However, losing someone when you’re still so young… it was something you knew all too well.

You left them to clear up their pillow monstrosity and made the waffles. Once they were done, you saw Lucas and Dustin still clearing and conversing. You took the opportunity to fill a plate and walk to your bedroom, greeting the young girl with much needed food.

“Thank you.” She said, a small smile on her face when she realised the plate held waffles.

“Hey, El?”

“Hm.” She was eating as if it had been days. In all fairness, you had no idea if Mike had actually managed to give her proper meals.

“Last night… did something happen? When we were here?” Your mind led you back to the faceless monster scratching at your door. Was that all just a dream?

She just stared at you blankly.

“Right, no, of course not. It’s just been a scary few days.” Imagining monsters. That wasn’t concerning at all.

After sitting with the girl for a while, you made sure the boys ate and then took them all to the house next door. Before you even knocked on the door, Dustin and Lucas were headed to their bikes. Clearly, they had other plans.

“Hey! Where are you guys going?”

“Home.” Lucas said, a note of anger in his voice. He then rode off, without a second glance.

“He just needs some time.” Dustin paused for a moment, looking at your uncle's house, envisaging the girl that sat patiently in your room. “We all do.”

And with that, he mounted his bike and took off after his friend.

“We’re so sorry. Yes. Yes, we handled it. I promise. Yes. Yes, we will. I promise you, you won’t.” Your mother was stood in the hall, clinging into the phone as if it might slip out of her hands. You knew exactly who she was talking to.

You just sat on the floor of your living room, the cream-coloured rug providing little comfort. Your sister was sat beside you, head on your shoulder. She was too young to understand what was going on. At least that’s what your mother told you. You on the other hand, chose not to underestimate your sister. She was much smarter than anyone gave her credit for.

“Thank you. Good bye.” She hung up the phone, sighing. Disappointment. She made her way to the living room and stood in front of you both.

“Come with me, sweetheart.” She said, reaching out a hand to your sister.

“I want to stay with Y/n.” The girl was clinging onto your arm now. She absolutely knew what was happening.

“Just come with me.” Your mother kept pleading. She didn’t want to tear her away.

“No!” Your sister screamed. You looked into her big blue eyes, silently begging her to go. You couldn’t bare having to say goodbye.

“NOW!” The booming voice of your father practically bounced off the walls. Everyone froze. Whatever he says, goes.

You risked a glance to him, seeing him hold a suitcase in his right hand. It definitely wasn’t yours.

The blue eyed girl began crying, hugging you tightly. Your mother stepped back. Your father stepped forward.

“Let go of your sister, she has somewhere to be. Let’s just try our best to move on from this.” He sighed. He whispered something to your mother now stood just by the door. She nodded and he left. You heard the front door slam and you knew. You might be the one leaving, but he was the one that wasn’t going to come back.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” You looked back at your sister, her teary eyes closed.

“It’s my fault. I should have told you to stay with me instead of going to that stupid party.” She sobbed, remembering your last conversation you had before the incident.

“Hey, look at me.” You cupped her chin, bringing her doe eyes to meet yours. “None, and I mean none, of this is your fault. Don’t you ever think that. It was all me. Just me.”

She just continued to cry, your words barely making an affect.

“I might be leaving, but I’d never leave you. You understand? I’ll find a way. When I’m old enough, I’ll come back for you.”

“Promise?” She choked down her sobs, holding your hands.

“I promise.” You said, a tear forming a path down your left cheek. “You are so, so strong. And smart. Smarter than me. Smarter than mom and dad. Smarter than anyone I know. No matter what happens, you can do this on your own. Promise me you won’t ever give up. Promise me.”

“I promise.” She whispered. You kissed her forehead, holding onto her one last time. You were going to find your way back. In 4 years, you’ll be 18. In 4 years, you were going to find her and take her away from this hell.

There was a loud knock at the door. Your sister looked at you. She leaned in and whispered 3 words. But not the ones you’d expect.

Reluctantly, you let go of the only person in this world that you ever truly loved, and walked to the door. Your mother avoided you in every possible way, not even bringing herself to look at you. You resisted the urge to look back at the house that was never your home. You took each step forward with your heart slowly aching. This was just the beginning.

You were escorted to Hawkins, away from the city that hated you. All that replayed were the 3 words your sister had whispered.

“Give. Them. Hell.”

El wasn't there when you went back into the house.

You had searched everywhere, even visiting the Wheeler house to have a sneak at the basement but only came across Mike, who confirmed your suspicions that she hadn't come back. You didn't know where she was, but you hoped she was safe and smart enough to find you later.

Karen had offered to give you a lift into school and whilst you had politely declined, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not since they found Will’s body.

So, you took the backseat and were sat next to the youngest Wheeler, Holly. She rarely spoke to you, mostly never even realised you existed. You didn’t really care though, you weren’t sure you could even have a liberating conversation with a 3 year old.

Nancy was sat in the front with her mother. Neither of you had spoken a word to eachother in a while. You didn’t have anything to say, you knew that the bond between you two was breaking. It hurt, knowing you were going to lose a friend. But rather than reconcile your friendship, your plan was unchangeable today; find Barb. Since Will was found, your mind has locked onto Barb, praying she was okay. You didn’t want another body found in that quarry.

Karen pulled up to the school, telling you both to have a good day. As you stepped out onto the pavement, you doubted that it would even be an adequate day.

And you were absolutely right.

After your first lesson, you needed a break. Your breathing was becoming questionable and you knew you’d be having a panic attack sooner or later. You walked to the football field, leaning on a wall and focused on the practice that was currently in place. Each breath finally slowed and you felt better. You were glad that you didn’t have to focus on that boring display of testosterone anymore.

Instead, you took in your surroundings, eyes landing on something that made you smile without thinking.

“I think you two would be great together.” Nancy said, leaning towards you with a small smile. You weren’t sure how long she’d been there for.

“Really?” You replied quietly, your eyes still fixated on the boy who was telling a captivating story to group of friends.

“Yeah, why not? You clearly like eachother.” She smiled, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m not so sure about that.” You wanted to believe he liked you, truly. But you weren’t someone that boys liked. You were just… Y/n. Nothing special, definitely not girlfriend material.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Y/n.”

You turned to Nancy, giving her a shy smile. There was something about talking to her again that made you feel… relaxed?

“Hey, um, I know we haven’t really talked since the party.” She began, lowering her eyes to the floor, “I’m really sorry that I left you and Barb alone. I know I said I was going to stay with you guys and I really was planning to but-”

“It’s fine, Nance.” You put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at you, smiling at her nickname.

“Speaking of Barb, have you seen her?” She asked quietly, her head turning to the spot where you would usually meet before school.

“I called but her mom said she hadn’t been home since the party. I know she wouldn’t run away, that’s not Barb, but I haven’t seen her car so-”

“It’s still where she left it at the party.” Nancy interrupted. She saw your confused expression and continued. “I… I was worried. So I went back there and it’s just sat there. My sweatshirt is still on the seat where I left it. It hasn’t been touched.”

“Wait, so she’s… missing?” The last word cracked your voice slightly. You took her to the side

“I can’t find her.” Nancy walked near the wall, hugging herself.

“Can’t find who?” Steve walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He looked at you with a grin and when he saw that you didn’t do your usual eye roll, his eyebrows furrowed. “Okay something’s wrong.”

“We can’t find Barb. She isn’t at home and her car is basically deserted.” You finally spoke when Nancy didn’t.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Steve looked as if he didn’t even believe himself.

“No. She’s not. Something is definitely wrong. I went to look for her, at your house, and nothing. Nothing! She’s just disappeared and now they’ve found Will’s body so now I’m panicking. I think… I saw someone out there, in those woods. They- they didn’t even have… a face.” Nancy said. Your breath hitched and she turned to you, raising a brow. Before she could ask, Steve was already talking.

“So, wait a sec. I don’t understand. You went to my house?” He let go of her so he could move around to face her. His shoulder brushed yours slightly but he didn’t seem to notice.

“To look for Barb.”

“Yeah, okay, but why didn’t you just talk to me? That’s crazy.”

“I don’t know, I… I was scared.”

“You seriously think you saw a guy in a mask just hanging out in my yard?”

“I don’t think it was a mask.”

“But he had no face?”

“I don’t know!” Nancy began shaking her head, “I don’t know, I just… I have a terrible feeling about this.”

You slumped against the wall. Was the faceless creature real? It can’t be a coincidence that you both imagined the same thing.

“Me too.” You finally spoke, sending Nancy a nod while Steve looked at you. His expression changed when he saw how serious you were.

“Oh, this is bad. This is really bad.” Steve paced before walking to the wall and leaning just a few inches next to you.

“What?” You asked and Nancy took a step closer to you both. “Do you know something?”

“The cops…” He said. Nancy looked at you with a similar expression.

“What about them?” You asked, your little patience slowly beginning to show. It was only a matter of time since you were in proximity of Steve Harrington.

“They’re gonna want to talk to all of us now. Tommy, Carol, everybody who was at the party?”

“So?” You and Nancy both asked. Her voice was a little softer than yours since yours was laced with irritation now.

“My parents are gonna murder me!” He said, looking at you. It meant that you could see the hint of fear in his eyes. You’ve met Steve’s parents. He had every right to be terrified of those child neglecters.

“Are you serious right now?” Nancy didn’t know Steve’s parents well.

“You don’t understand. My dad’s a grade-A asshole.” He said, stuffing his hands back in his pockets.

“Barb is missing! And you’re worried about your dad?” She raised her voice, startling you and Steve.

“Okay, let’s calm down. Nance, we’ll talk to the cops, try and find Barb. Steve, we’ll figure out a way to stop your dad from murdering you. Cool?” You attempted to diffuse the situation. Nancy looked somewhat calmer and you thought it worked until Steve had to open his mouth again.

“Okay, just… when you talk to the cops, just…” He moved closer to Nancy, “don’t mention the beers.”

Nancy raised her head, her eyebrows scrunching together. Oh, you knew that face. It wasn’t a nice face.

“Yep, you’ve done it now, Hairy.” You mumbled over his shoulder as you retreated back to the wall and grabbed your bag. You were going to need to move quickly.

“What?” Steve asked, confused by your statement. “It’s just gonna get us three in trouble, and Barbara’s got nothing to do with it, okay?”

“I can’t believe you right now.” Nancy scoffed, her voice a little too calm.

“Cool. Time to go.” You muttered, adjusting the strap on your bag and looking at Nancy. She chose to avoid Steve’s eyes. He was going to regret that later.

“I can’t believe you.” She repeated, marching past Steve and waving him away with her hand. She was definitely mad.

“Nancy.” He tried to grab her but she moved quicker than he expected. “Nancy, wait.”

She just continued to walk away, her feet treading through the pebbled floor.

“Nancy!” He called out again but it was no use. She was already rounding the corner and gone.

“That went well.” You said, starting your voyage away from Steve.

“What did I say?” He asked, exasperated.

“Okay, listen up because I’m only saying this once and I’m sure you’re gonna make some lame joke about me not being equipped to give relationship advice.” You turned to him, looking up at him through hooded eyes.

“I-”

“Nope. Shut up. Shh.” You waved a hand in his face, miming at him to be quiet as you brought your hand to your lips.

When he finally sighed, you took it as a chance to speak.

“I know you think you’re great with the ladies. Sure, you’ve had practice. But Nancy isn’t like those other girls.”

“I know-”

“Hey! What did I say about talking?”

“Sorry.” He muttered, raising his hands in defeat.

“Nancy doesn’t need a boyfriend. She can easily take care of herself. She’s smart. You, less so.” You pushed out your hand again when he tried to protest. “She needs someone that can understand what she’s talking about, what she’s thinking about. Not someone who can only think of themselves in times when she needs them. I understand how much of an asshole your dad is, remember? But Nancy needs you right now. She’s scared, she’s panicking. She doesn’t care about the consequences of underage drinking, she cares about Barb, her best friend who is now missing. Just like how Will was missing.

So get your ego in check, because she needs someone who can calm her down and actually help her when she needs it. I genuinely believe that you can do that for her if you just tried to see this situation from her perspective. Understand?”

“… Yeah. Yeah.” He cleared his throat, nodding frantically. He was giving you a weird look. Not a bad one but it was weird enough for you to be done with the conversation.

“Good. Now be better.” You finalised, turning back around and following Nancy’s path.

I can’t believe I just tried to fix Nancy and Steve’s relationship you thought, shuddering, won’t be doing that again.

After catching up with Nancy, you consoled her, letting her know where you’d be if you needed to talk.

“You think the police will look into Barb’s disappearance?” She looked at you. Her eyes glinted with tears.

“Yes. And we’ll wait for them to speak with us. We’ll tell them the truth, Nance. The whole truth.”

You both parted ways and went to your respective lessons. You were a few minutes late but your teacher didn’t seem to care as he went back to pointing out places on the world map. You had already learnt this module so you took your seat in the back and tried to relax yourself. You wondered how long the police would take to start investigating.

“Queen of the demogorgons. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You quickly straightened in your seat, turning your head to the right to see Eddie sat at the desk next to yours. Since when did you have classes together?

“I could say the same.” You said, smiling at him. "Wait, have we been in the same class this whole time and never spoken to eachother?”

“Probably.” He shrugged, casting a glance at your teacher before moving closer to you. “I’m usually sat in the back wall corner but someone beat me to my seat today.” He rolled his eyes and tilted his head in the direction of the desk.

You peered over and saw the one and only Harrington. You knew you had this class with him but this is the first time he’s actually shown up to it in about a year.

“I’m not complaining.” He whispered and you flashed him a genuine smile.

“I should hope not. Unless you want to exchange hair products with him.” You chuckled and he clutched both hands to his heart, mocking offence.

“I have never been more offended in my life.”

“Shh!” The girl in front of you spun around, finger to her lips. You mimed zipping your mouth shut which earned you a glare before she focused back on the teacher.

“Always a troublemaker.” Eddie said, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in you.

“You still free after school?” You blurted. After the way things were going lately, you didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see him more.

“Yeah! I mean, uh, yes. Yes, I am.” He cleared his throat, resting his chin of his hand as he tried to appear relaxed.

“Good. I’ll meet you at the benches.” You smiled to yourself and opened up your textbook as you also tried to fake being calm about the situation. As you began writing down a few notes, you caught Eddie smiling into his hand as he scribbled down whatever your teacher was droning on about.

The door to the classroom swung open and someone stood just outside, peering in with her hand still on the handle. She swept the room with her eyes until they landed on the corner by the window. You.

“Sorry to disturb your lesson but I need Y/n to come with me.” She said authoritatively. And just like that, all eyes were on you.

You glanced around the room and your teacher started to stutter some sort of acceptance (not that his permission was needed) and you locked eyes with Steve. You both knew why you were wanted. Then you looked at Eddie.

He stared at you with his big brown eyes. It wasn’t quite confusion that he was sending your way, more like curiosity. He was trying to figure you out. Before you got yourself too nervous in front of him, you walked over to your principal and let her guide you down the hall.

So now, you were sat next to Nancy and Karen. Talking to the police.

“This argument you and Barbara had? What exactly was it about?” Officer Powell directed his question to Nancy. She had just explained the last time she saw Barb.

“It wasn’t really an argument. Barb just wanted to leave. I didn’t, so, I… I told her to just go home.”

“Then what?”

“Then I went upstairs to put on some dry clothes.” Nancy looked nervous. Not in a guilty way, more like in an ‘if my mom finds out Steve and I did, she might kill me’ kind of way.

“And the next day, you went back and… saw a bear, you’re thinking?”

A bear. Right.

“I don’t know what it was, but… I think… I think maybe it took Barb.” Nancy’s voice cracked a bit. You were certain she was imagining the faceless creature, the same way you were. It made you want to shiver.

“You need to check behind Steve’s house-”

“We did. There’s nothing there.” Officer Callahan interrupted, shaking his head.

“What?” Your head whipped up in surprise.

“There’s no sign of a bear.”

“And no car.”

“What?” Nancy repeated you. You both gave eachother a quick look before turning back to the officers.

“Look. We figure that Barbara came back last night and then she took off, went somewhere else.”

“Has she ever talked to either of you about running off? Leaving town, maybe?” Officer Powell looked at you both, setting his sight on you for a moment longer than you would have liked. He was clearly suspicious of you.

“No.” You replied anyway, “Barb loves Hawkins.”

“No. No, Barb wouldn’t do that, ever.” Nancy confirmed.

“She wasn’t maybe upset about the fact that you were spending time with this boy? Uh,” He looked down at his notes, “Steve Harrington?”

You saw Karen take a deep breath at the mention of Steve.

“What? No!” Nancy protested. You knew the truth, Barb was pretty upset that Nancy was neglecting you both that night. But you kept your mouth shut.

“Maybe she was jealous because she saw you go up to Steve’s room?”

Karen turned her full attention to Nancy. Well, shit, you thought, very happy to not be Nancy Wheeler right now.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Like what?” Callahan provoked, leaning in slightly.

“Steve and me, we’re… we’re just friends. We… we just talked.” Nancy Wheeler was exceptional at most things. Except lying. You lowered your head as your friend dug herself a deeper hole.

“Now was this before or after you changed out of your clothes?”

The room fell silent. Karen was practically staring daggers into Nancy. Your friend leant back into her chair with a sigh. She had given up.

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with Barb.” You spoke up, everyone now focused on you. Nancy thanked you with her eyes and Officer Callahan, who you were slowly growing to dislike, leant towards you.

“Where were you? When all of this happened?” He asked.

“I had already left.” You said. You knew that you would tell them as much of the truth as you could, but you would definitely leave out Jonathan. He was already dealing with enough.

“Why?” He questioned.

“Because… I just-” You looked at Nancy before tearing your eyes away and looking at the desk. “I just couldn’t be there anymore.”

“Did something happen?” Powell asked you. He had a gentler touch to speaking to people than his partner did.

You took a deep breath, mentally apologising to Nancy for what you were about to say.

“I didn’t want to go in the first place. I wasn’t in a party mood, for my own... personal reasons. And the people there, they’re not exactly people I hang around with, or, even want to be around. I was only there because Nancy wanted me to be. But, if Barb wasn’t there… I wouldn’t have shown up.” You admitted. A terrible thought crossed your mind as you spoke; if you had refused to go, like you wanted to in the first place, then maybe Barb would be okay. She only went because of you.

“So you left before the argument?”

“Yes. Last thing I saw was everyone in the pool. Barb… I left her a note, saying I was leaving.”

“And the reason why you left? The… personal reason.” Callahan glanced down at some notes he had brought with him and you gulped. “Did it have anything to do with what happened 3 years ago?”

You could have sworn your heart stopped for a minute. You didn’t breathe, your mind clouded with trauma.

“3 years ago?” Nancy asked, searching your face for some kind of answer.

“I don’t want to talk about that, but yes. And what does any of that have to do with Barb?” You raised your voice, panicking.

“Calm down, I was just wondering. But considering past events…” He looked at Powell who gave him a slight nod, “We will need to talk to you a little more about this party.”

They thought you did something. It was written on their faces. They thought that you were capable of hurting Barb. And it hurt.

“If she says she doesn’t want to talk about it, then she will not talk about it. Not today.” Karen’s voice suddenly sounded, “Do you have the information you need? These girls have been through a lot this week.”

“Uh, yes. I suppose so.” Powell nodded at Mrs Wheeler, his partner looking at him in protest. “But we will need to continue our investigation.”

They both stood, collecting their notes before Officer Powell turned to you.

“I understand that this must be difficult for you to talk about. But we will need to see you soon for further questioning.”

He waited until you gave an understanding nod before they thanked you for your time and left the room, leaving you and the Wheelers to sit in silence.

“I think that’s been enough for one day. I’ll drive you girls home.” Karen finally broke the silence, standing and walking out of the door without a second glance at either of you. Wordlessly, you both followed. You both still had a few more classes until the end of the day but you didn’t want to argue.

You didn’t have it in you anymore.

“I think it would be best if you moved her out of town for a while.” The officer was speaking to your mother in the kitchen. She was gripping onto her cup like it would jump out of her hands and make a run for it.

“I… I don’t know where-”

“Do you have family nearby? Someone she could stay with? Just until we can safely manage the riots.”

You looked to the closed window of your living room. The curtains were drawn but you didn’t need to see outside to know that there was a crowd of angry people outside. And they all blamed you.

“The only family I have is my brother.” Your mother spoke quietly, you weren’t sure if it was because she didn’t want you to overhear or because she could barely get the words out, “But he lives in Indiana.”

“Well it is your choice. You can let her stay here but I can’t promise that those people outside won’t try anything.”

You heard your mother take a deep breath. Before she could speak, the loud thud of the front door hitting the wall shook the house. Your father was home.

He walked into the living room to see you sat on the floor just outside of the kitchen. When he looked through the slightly open door, his face moulded into a stern expression. Without so much as looking your way, he stepped past the kitchen door and slammed it shut. All you could hear now was muffled voices. It was no longer clear enough to make out. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what was happening.

They were sending you away to Indiana. And you knew that they weren’t going to take you back.

“You lied to the police!”

“I didn’t lie!”

Karen and Nancy were currently shouting at eachother, the mother slamming the door shut as you all entered the building. You weren’t a part of the argument, not really. But Karen refused to let you go. Mostly because she didn’t want you to be alone after what happened. You didn’t want to lie to her about why the police wanted to question you more than anyone else. But you were terrified of her knowing. It would change the way she viewed you. And you couldn’t lose another mother.

“How naive do you think I am?” Karen marched towards Nancy who was currently trying to escape to her room. “You and Steve were just talking?”

Nancy spun around, fury in her eyes. This was going well. You stopped just a few centimetres from them, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

“We slept together! Is that what you want to know? It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter!”

“No! It is all bullshit! It has nothing to do with Barb and she’s missing. And something terrible happened to her. I know it. I know it!” Tears were beginning to fall from Nancy’s eyes, her hand shaking. Her mother kept quiet. You couldn’t see her expression from where you were stood but her posture was telling you she was caught by surprise.

“And no one is listening to me!” Nancy screamed, quickly turning away.

“Sweetie, sweetie, I’m listening.” Karen soothed, attempting to hold her daughter.

“No! You’re not!” She pushed her away and ran up the stairs as Karen called after her. She didn’t try to follow.

“Just leave me alone!” That was the last you heard before Nancy slammed her door shut. Karen just stood motionless for a second, a deep sigh leaving her body. She looked exhausted.

“She’s just scared.” You said, looking at her with a sympathetic smile.

“I know. I just… I don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me anymore.” She responded quietly, biting her lip as she looked up the stairs longingly, as if Nancy might reappear.

“She’s a teenage girl.”

That earned you a soft chuckle and she turned her full attention to you.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“What was happening back there? Do the police know something that we don’t?” She asked. The ‘we’ in question was directed toward herself and Nancy.

“It, uh…” Your mind was blank, no lies came to save you. So you looked down and let out a shaky sigh. Before you knew it, tears started to fall. Karen immediately rushed over, throwing her arms around you. It only made you cry more.

“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”

She took you to the living room, sitting you down before running out to grab you something hot to drink to calm your nerves. You managed to steady yourself a bit, holding onto the mug she gave you like it was your only source of comfort.

“Mrs Wheeler…” You were staring at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.

“Karen, sweetheart. You can always call me Karen.” She smiled at you. Her kindness only made you want to cry more.

“Something happened. A long time ago. And… and it was bad. Really bad. It’s why my parents sent me here.” Saying even that much out loud caused your heart to jack-hammer in your chest.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.”

You looked up at her through your teary, blurred vision.

“I don’t? But I thought-”

“Y/n. Your past doesn’t define you. It doesn’t change the fact that the girl I know, the girl that is sitting right in front of me, is the sweetest girl I know. Whatever you may have done, it doesn’t matter. Because I know you, Y/n. This is the real you. And I’m proud to say that she is a part of my family.”

And suddenly, you were crying for a whole new reason.

“You can’t avoid talking to the police but I will be there if you need me. Or I’ll be just outside if you need that. I don’t think you need to be alone during this. And neither does Nancy. I just hope you both know that.” She sighed after you had slowed your tears.

“She knows it. She may not appreciate you like she should, but she loves you. She needs time.” You give her a small smile and she hugs you. And you had to admit, it felt nice to be loved.

Your moment was interrupted by Nancy’s shoes rapidly storming down the stairs. She had a determined look on her face as she strode toward the door, ignoring her mother’s protests. The door slam shut before you could even react.

“I’ll go after her.” You assured Karen, grabbing your bag and rushing to follow Nancy.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m okay.” You smiled as she let out a satisfied sigh. She still sported a worried look but let you go regardless.

Nancy was already half way down the street when you caught up to her.

“Nance-” You were breathing heavily. You desperately needed to exercise more.

“I need to talk to Jonathan.” She threw a glance your way before picking up her stride.

“Okay, wait. Slow down!” You grabbed onto her shoulder and she slowed her movements. “Do you even know where he is?”

“Uh… no.” She stopped walking and you silently thanked the lord. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I need to talk to him?”

“Nance. It’s you. I don’t need to question your every move. This is to do with Barb, right?”

“Here.” She rummaged through her bag before pulling out two pieces of a familiar photo.

“Jonathan’s photo?” You shook your head, trying to make sense of what she was implying.

“Look closer.” She held up a specific piece. The image was dark, you could barely make out that it was the pool.

“Oh shit.” You breathed as you saw the figure that currently haunted your dreams, just lurking in the corner. “Is that…”

“The faceless man.” Nancy was quiet. She shoved the images back into her bag. “I’m going to head to his house, see if he’s there. Are you coming?”

“Ye- Wait no. I can’t.” You saw the time on her watch and remembered the plans you had made earlier. You really needed to get your watch back from El. Oh the kids! You thought. The amount of things you were forgetting was concerning.

“Why?”

“I have plans.”

“With who?” “Look it’s not important. How about you find Jonathan and see if you can get him to come to the school. I’ll be there and we can see if he has any other photos of that… thing.”

“Okay.” She nodded, in too much of a hurry to argue. She headed towards the Byers’ house and you set off toward the school.

You didn’t want to stand up the only other person at Hawkins High who actually liked you.

You headed to the back of the building, making your way through a few of the surrounding trees until you had a clear view of the benches. Turning right, you headed to your favourite ones and there was Eddie, led on the bench, staring at the sky.

“I heard clouds really put on a show sometimes.” You laughed, his head turning to you before he slowly sat up.

“And she arrives! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” He hides his face behind his hands and pretends to cry, making you swat his hand away and reveal his grin.

“Yeah, sorry about that, it’s been a really weird day.” Weird, awful, terrifying.

“Did old Princi try to lock you up?” He laughed but you could tell he was concerned.

“Actually the police did.” You said with such seriousness that his face dropped and you swear he stopped breathing. “I’m kidding.”

“Damn, you’re really good at that.” He laughed nervously, shaking his head. “So no cops?”

“Oh, no, there were cops. They were asking Nancy and I about Barb…” Your voice trailed off. Saying her name out loud made your stomach twist, like deep down you knew you’d never see your friend again.

“I heard about that.” He gave you a sympathetic nod, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay but I’m okay. I think. I don’t know, can we talk about something else?” You rushed your sentences before sighing.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh…” He stood up quickly, looking around as if a new topic would appear. “So… the weather, huh? Crazy stuff.”

You burst out into laughter. Eddie’s amused and confused face only making you laugh harder until he joined in.

“What?” He was sat on the grass now, holding his stomach.

“The weather?” You could barely get the words out.

“Well, I don’t know! You put me on the spot.” He laughed, laying down and looking at the sky, “I’m not wrong, just look at it! I swear those clouds are looking at me, it’s crazy stuff!”

When you finally came to the end of your laughing fit, you clutched your stomach that hurt from the joy. It had been a while since you laughed like that.

“Okay, I have a good topic change.” You chuckled.

“I don’t know how you can beat clouds but go ahead.”

You unzipped your bag, reaching down for the small cases you had made sure to pick up earlier in the day. You grabbed them, placed your bag back on the bench and walked to sit next to Eddie, crossing your legs and holding out your gifts.

“Cassette tapes?” He observed, reaching out for them. When he took the tapes, your hands brushed against eachother. And neither of you tried to avoid it.

“Yeah, uh… I remember that you said I should recommend you some tapes and I think you’d love them. I mean, obviously you know Metallica but Iron Maiden has some pretty great stuff. Like ‘Number of The Beast’ has their popular stuff on that they play like all the time but ‘Piece of Mind’ has some of the best songs. I can’t really listen to them at my house since my uncle claims ‘it’s not music’ but it’s so good.”

When you finished your little rant and looked at him you saw him admiring you. The way you spoke about metal clearly interested him. But, being the self-sabotage type of girl, you assumed he thought you were crazy.

“But you don’t have to listen to them, it’s stupid.” You went to collect the tapes back until he trapped them in his hands and held it to his chest.

“Woah, no way! They sound awesome.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! If you’re not careful I’ll end up stealing them from you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You laughed, leaning back on your elbows.

“I’ll listen to them as soon as I... fix my tape player.” He looked down at the tapes as if you might snatch them away.

“You don’t have anything to listen to them on?”

“No. My tape player’s been broken for a while. Slowly building up the money for a new one, though.” His gaze still on the tapes you gave him.

“Well that won’t do.” You stand suddenly, jogging to your bag before bringing it back to Eddie. You pulled out your Walkman, carefully wrapping the headphones around the base.

“Here.” You placed the Walkman on his lap and he replied with a surprised look.

“I can’t-”

“Yes. You can. Until you can afford a new player. I have an old one at home anyway so I can just use that.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like you didn’t care about the Walkman.

Truthfully, you loved it. It was in a box of your aunt’s old stuff when you moved into your uncle’s spare room. He told you to take whatever you wanted. You were rifling through a box of jumpers when you found it wrapped in an old red sweater. Since then, you’ve always had it on you.

And now you were giving it away for a few days. Maybe weeks or months. But it didn’t upset you knowing that Eddie would be the one to take care of it.

“Thanks.” He smiled, tilting his head, scanning you slightly.

“What?” You giggled anxiously.

“I’m… I’m just very glad we met Y/n no last name.”

Your face dropped and it scared him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” “No! No! It’s not you! It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” You looked at him with a smile, shaking off one of the last things Barb had said to you. “I’m very glad we met too.”

“You know,” Eddie said after a while of silence, “these benches are great and all but I know a better place.”

“Oh, really?” You challenged.

“You’ll be kicking yourself for not finding it sooner.” He leaned in and your heart skipped a beat.

You were both holding your breath, anticipating. You ignored your nerves and leant further in, ready to make the first move.

“Y/n! There you are!”

Damn. You were so close.

You and Eddie moved away from eachother as Nancy and Jonathan rounded the corner. Both of their eyes widened as they realised what they had interrupted.

“Oh. Um, hi.” She said as Jonathan gave an awkward wave from behind her.

“Hi.” Eddie said back, an amused grin on his face.

“We’ll… wait over… here.” Nancy pointed vaguely in a direction and shoved Jonathan along with her. You amended her for trying but the moment was ruined.

“I assume you know Nancy.” You laughed back the nerves.

“Yeah, she’s dating Harrington, right?”

“Don’t let that define her character. I genuinely have no idea why those two are dating.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to keep Wheeler waiting much longer so I should go.” He stood up, holding onto your Walkman and tapes. “Thank you for these.”

“Just make sure to take care of my Walkman. She’s basically my baby.” You laughed, swinging your bag onto your shoulder.

“I shall protect her with my life.” He crossed his heart and saluted. Which resulted in him almost dropping everything and you both burst out in laughter.

“I’ll see you soon.” You said, turning away.

“Oh yeah?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Duh. I’m dying to know what bench could possibly be better than mine.” You looked back at his signature grin and walked away, smiling to yourself.

There wasn’t much time to be happy though. You saw Nancy and Jonathan talking to eachother in hushed whispers. Nancy looked worried. And everything suddenly became very real.

“And you’re…”

“Brightening. Enlarging.”

“Hmm.”

Nancy looked down in boredom. She never really latched onto photography like you and Jonathan did. She thought the whole process of developing photos was dull but you always found it quite therapeutic. Being isolated in the dark room while creating little pieces of art was something that calmed you.

“Did your mom say anything else? Like, um, where it might have gone to, or…” Nancy straightened herself, turning her head to Jonathan. You were sure that she was talking about a conversation they had earlier.

“No, just that it came out of the wall.” He responded. You immediately pushed off of the wall you were using as support.

“Something came out of a wall?” You asked, wanting to know if it was the same creature you and Nancy had seen.

“That’s what my mom claims.” He sighs as the machine dings, and he moved onto the next phase of development, “She’s just… stressed.”

You say nothing. You believed Joyce. Jonathan had told you that she was trying to convince everyone that Will was still alive, and you believed her. There was an undeniable feeling that you just couldn’t shake. You couldn’t explain it… but Joyce was right.

“How long does this take?” Nancy changed the topic after Jonathan put the image into the tray. There was something about the way she was looking at him.

“Not long.” You and Jonathan both spoke, causing you to turn to eachother and smile. You noticed Nancy shift uncomfortably but chose to ignore it.

“Have you been… doing this a while?” Her attention was fully on Jonathan. You leant against a desk, feeling like you weren’t wanted. She has never asked you about photography.

“What?” Jonathan’s attention, however, was focused onto the image. You could tell he was a little nervous. And you knew it wasn’t about the photo.

“Photography?”

“Yeah. I guess I’d rather observe people than, you know…”

“Talk to them.” Nancy smiled.

“I know. It’s weird.”

“No-”

“No, it is.” He stammered. It was becoming more and more of a private conversation and you wished you could just leave. But opening the door would let in light and ruin your chances of finding out what took Barb. You couldn’t risk it.

“It’s just, sometimes… people don’t really say what they’re really thinking. But you capture the right moment… it says more.” He admitted. You nodded to yourself, silently agreeing with his words.

“What was I saying?”

“What?”

“When you took my picture.”

You gulped. You were wondering when that topic would make an appearance.

“I shouldn’t have taken that. I should have listened to Y/n.”

Nancy glances over to you, confused. She doesn’t know about the night in the forest.

“I’m uh…” Jonathan continued, making eye contact with her, “I’m sorry. It’s just-”

“That’s it.” Nancy interrupted, staring at the photo. “That’s what I saw. Y/n?”

You looked over Jonathan’s shoulder and your breathing stopped. It was real.

“I thought I… imagined it.” You breathed, you and Jonathan exchanging glances. He saw the look on your face as you thought that, even in the red light, you could see the colour drain from his face.

“My mom…” Jonathan moved away from the photo slightly. “I thought she was crazy ‘cause she said… that’s not Will’s body. That he’s alive.”

“And if he’s alive-” Nancy looked at you.

“Barbara.” You gasped.

Maybe, just maybe, there was hope.

Chapter 5: Part 1: The Vale Of Shadows ->

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[transingthoseformers]

since you mentioned angsty just-post-Council TFP MegOP...

this is canon-adjacent at best, but it sticks in my head and I thought of you.

Envisage a TFP-ish universe in which spark-bonded Prime/Protector dyads are a thing, and in which M/OP are more-or-less secretly bonded before the Council appearance (the worst-kept secret in the newly-formed Decepticons but entirely unperceived by the powers that be? The sort of thing that Soundwave is keeping very firmly quiet about? An impulsive decision just before they head out to the session?)

And, because of course, M is carrying at the point when they go to the Council and OP doesn't know.

So... disastrous session more-or-less as per canon; OP retrieves/is given the Matrix and is transformed/upgraded. Then the Council say cheerily that now they must find him a suitable sparkmate. To which OP, naturally, points out that he already has one of those... consternation all round, as this is something without historical precedent (also suitability is also a bit of an issue, from the Council's pov).

OP - worried about what might have happened to M, because the primacy has after all given *him* an unexpected and painful set of upgrades, sneaks out at night to try to make up/strategise/just check on M.

What he finds is, well, a mess, because M's frame is also trying to transform and self-upgrade and M is desperately trying to prevent it from doing so & rejecting the sparkling (as an aside, are the Ds as a collective supportive/defensive? Split? Carrying on the revolution under Starscream's leadership, with M left in a back room somewhere to sort himself out? In some sort of holding pattern while all this resolves? I have no idea...)

So OP - entirely reasonably - rushes in to protect/reassure/touch/comfort and that (his touch with the Matrix installed, maybe) tips the balance.

And now he (and the Council, in whatever machinations they thought they were going for) are faced with a newly-upgraded Protector who is not just Unsuitable (tm) but very much inclined to blame his Prime for a devastating loss; the impact of that loss on him personally; and a political situation that's even less predictable than it might have been before...

(am I supposed to do this on anon? Not sure. Oh, well...)

Oooo so the proto-decepticons know, but they're (or at least Soundwave is) helping make sure it's just them that know

Mmhm of course Megs is pregnant and Optimus doesn't know of course of course

Then: okay time to find you a consort!

Optimus: but what about my husband

Ohh Megatronus... oh megatronus.

Considering what I know, Soundwave's probably doing what he and Starscream did in tfp canon while Megatron was out of the picture pre-series: on the down low and slow, but still operating (possibly under Starscream's leadership). After all, Soundwave's worried so worried about Megatronus and Orion

Oh no. Ohhh no... Yeah no Megatron will not be happy. Very not happy. The new High Lord Protector is going to flip shit on the new Prime, and I'm getting the vibe the start of the war in this is going to be so damn rough

[mywingsareonwheels]

Obscure fandoms mashing up in my head again: Jordan L Hawk's Hexworld universe would fit so beautifully with the morseverse. I mean one is a series of turn-of-the-20th-century m/m fantasy romance novels set in New York and the other is... not, but you have:-

some unrealistically good/anti-bigotry police detectives[1], but they are dealing with horrible amounts of corruption higher up.

general tackling of issues of discrimination but also ferocious loyalties

and a main character who keeps being very underestimated by the powers that be but whose colleagues really learn to adore them (even when they're an awkward git)

So I'm now envisaging Morse being a Familiar (cat, hedgehog, squirrel, something like that) and Thursday being his Witch (and things proceed more happily from there than in the show because Dammit). Morse becomes very much part of the Thursday family thanks to this, one way or another. And them both dealing with the discrimination Morse faces, but goodness would it work well. Jakes is an unbonded dog Familiar (and the boys at Blenheim Vale all were Familiars...); Hope his Witch but like Thursday she turns out to be an awesome one. Max could be a forensic hexman as well as a pathologist; at some point he ends up bonding with Dorothea (some form of bird Familiar?) with their relationship being platonic but utterly beautiful. :) Bright a Witch who starts out carrying the usual prejudices but unpacks them massively and then ends up bonding with a tiger Familiar (naturally). I'm not sure which way round Trewlove and Fancy are, but they had been wondering about bonding but hadn't actually done it by the end of series 5. *sobs a bit*

[1] Yes I *do* most emphatically include all of the main character detectives in Endeavour in that.

[snowdice]

New Couch; Old Habits (Part of the Envisage Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Roman & Logan, Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Patton/Logan (background)

Characters: Roman, Logan, Virgil, Patton

Summary: Virgil's parents come to visit him in his new apartment.

Notes: Leg Injury, very brief allusions to torture, Superhero AU

This takes place after Best Laid Plans and is part of the Labeled Universe.

Roman couldn’t help but fidget on the landing between the second and third floor of his new apartment building. “Are you sure you don’t want…”

 “Attempt to carry me one more time Mr. Silvia, and I will throw you out of a window,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said. His tone was without heat, but Roman was certain he was serious. His body may not have fully recovered from being captured, but his powers certainly had. Roman was not interested in having a thrown down with Bluebird even on a day where Bluebird had his leg in a cast and was wobbling on crutches. Roman would probably still lose.

He had to restrain himself from reaching for the man as he teetered dangerously on his crutches while tackling the next step.

Mr. Dr. Sanders was not used to going up stairs with his crutches. Sure, he’d been taught how to do so in physical therapy and his and Dr. Patton’s house had a staircase, but Roman doubted he every actually walked up them. Today, however, they were in a semi-public place, so the man did not want to glide up the stairs like Dracula. He also wasn’t confident in using his powers in a non-obvious way to steady himself yet, so normal plebeian stair climbing with crutches was the only option. Or at least, it was the only option Mr. Dr. Sanders’ pride would let him take.

Roman swore he had heart palpitations every time Mr. Dr. Sander’s good leg left solid ground so he could swing forward supported only by the crutches.

Roman heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him and winced, worried he was about to awkwardly meet one of his new neighbors, but when he glanced back, it was just Dr. Patton. Dr. Patton had gone to park the car and grab something for them all to eat for dinner. It had taken him a bit as the apartment was downtown with little parking, and he’d likely had to park the car on the university campus. Two bulging plastic bags swung on his arms as he came to a stop a few steps below them.

He seemed surprised to see them still on the stairs, but then shook his head with an eyeroll. “Sweetie,” he said. “I didn’t ask Roman to meet us downstairs so you could make him watch you climb two flights of stairs yourself.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders pursed his lips. He did not turn to look at Dr. Patton as he was too focused on the next step he needed to take. “I am perfectly capable of going up stairs on my own.”

As though to demonstrate, he swung for the next step, perhaps too quickly. He made it, but it was a close thing. Dr. Patton made a sound between a tsk and a scoff but didn’t argue seeing as he was only three stairs away from the top. He and Roman lingered on the stairs below Mr. Dr. Sanders as he finished proving himself.

“Alright,” Mr. Dr. Sanders said once firmly on the third floor. “Which is your apartment?”

“This way,” Roman said, walking around the man towards his apartment with his keys in hand. Virgil always insisted that Roman lock the door behind him even if one of them was still in the apartment or he only planned to be out for a moment. (He always said stepping out for a moment can end up lasting longer than expected and Roman hated that Virgil’s dad had just proven him correct.)

It took Roman a few tries to get the key to work as the lock stuck a bit, and he wasn’t used to opening it. By the time he managed to get the door open, Mr. and Dr. Sanders were beside him.

“What kind of surprise takes you half an hour to get it from downstairs?” Virgil asked as Roman swung open the door.

“A stubborn one,” Roman replied dryly, walking into their apartment.

Virgil looked up from his place on one of their two armchairs with a confused pinch to his brow, but then he saw his parents in the doorway. He blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and Roman knew it was not directed at Dr. Patton considering Dr. Patton had been here 5 days in the past week.

“While I fully acknowledge I was incapable of helping you move in last week, I still wished to see your new apartment,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied. “We brought dinner, and Roman suggested we could watch a movie this evening.”

“He probably just wants to make sure we didn’t put our canned vegetables in the wrong cabinet,” Roman stage whispered with an eyeroll.

“I trust Virgil to know the correct way to organize,” Mr. Dr. Sanders replied, “so, if they do happen to be in the wrong places, I will know who is to blame.”

The small bit of banter gave Virgil time to collect himself from the surprise. “Uh,” he said, getting to his feet. “Come in, please. You should, er, sit, especially you.”

Mr. Dr. Sanders didn’t argue (he had to be exhausted at this point). He allowed Virgil to lead him by the arm to their couch.

Dr. Patton, meanwhile, did not sit. He set the bags of food down on the coffee table and made a beeline to the kitchen to grab plates and silverware.

“What’s this?” Virgil asked, glancing at the bags after plopping down on the couch next to Mr. Dr. Sanders.

“It’s from that pasta place we saw just opened down the street while moving you two in. I thought we could try it out and see if it’s your new favorite,” Dr. Patton answered from the kitchen.

“Do they have chicken parmesan?” Virgil asked. He’d already leaned forward to open one of the bags.

“Yes,” Dr. Patton said, amused as he re-entered the living room. “They do have chicken parmesan. It’s in the container at the bottom of that bag.”

“I’ll get drinks,” Roman offered. “We have a 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and the juice Dr. Patton brought. I’ll bring those and some cups.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Dr. Patton said with a smile.

Virgil was busy dishing out a plate of ravioli and breadsticks for Mr. Dr. Sanders when Roman returned. Roman could tell by Mr. Dr. Sanders’ face that he wasn’t enthused about not being trusted to make his own plate, but he was indulging Virgil by allowing this anyway.

Dr. Patton had gotten double the amount of food needed for the 4 of them even considering Roman’s need for extra calories and Virgil’s willingness to gorge himself on pasta. So, there were a lot of leftovers to be packed away into Roman’s refrigerator once they were finished. Roman and Dr. Patton handled clean-up while Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders argued good naturedly over the movie choice.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Dr. Patton said in a low voice that was almost drowned out by the water he was running to rinse the plates. “I think it’s doing them both some good. More than you two coming over to see us even.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. That’s all they spoke about it, turning to lighter subjects like Roman’s classes and Dr. Patton’s latest read.

Virgil and Mr. Dr. Sanders managed to settle on the movie Back to the Future eventually. Virgil had stacked pillows on the coffee table so Mr. Dr. Sanders could more comfortably sit with his leg elevated.

Only 10 minutes into the movie, Virgil had already fallen asleep against Mr. Dr. Sander’s shoulder. It was only 7:30pm (and Virgil usually stayed up past midnight), but it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Roman had found that man sleeping in much weirder places at much weirder times and they’d only lived together for a week.

What was surprising was when Roman glanced over near the end of the movie and found that Mr. Dr. Sanders had fallen asleep as well.

Roman and Dr. Patton discussed it in the kitchen about an hour after the movie had ended, and eventually decided to let them sleep. Dr. Patton had to go home and let Missy out but told Roman to call him if at any point Mr. Dr. Sanders woke up and needed to come home.

Before he left, he grabbed the purple blanket Virgil always favored and threw it over both of them.

Virgil and his father slept through the night like that until Dr. Patton arrived back at the apartment with breakfast and coffee the next morning.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[imaginedanvrs]

so tempted to write a darker version of the 'my demon gave me everything' series. the things I'm envisaging are definetly too much to put out there though :/

[lemonhemlock]

i saw that you are a dark!dany believer. i'm not really a fan of daenerys but i don't think she'll go mad or whatever. but i'm interested to hear your points about why do you support this theory...

listen so i haven't read the books in a while because i have an academic paper i actually need to be finishing so i don't have exact quotes on hand but

you will find in dany's pov that sometimes she will start spewing mad shit like I AM DAENERYS STORMBORN DESCENDANT OF MAEGOR THE CRUEL BLOOD OF THE DRAGON I WILL RAZE CITIES TO THE GROUND AND MY ENEMIES WILL DIE SCREAMING

i was reading AGOT like a normal person and just, you know, found it strange she's having these intrusive violent thoughts ever since the first book (and i quite sympathized with daenerys in the first book)

but she never quit it with this unhinged shit and it just got worse as the series progressed. her entire shtick is having dragons and using them to burn stuff to the ground, conquering places, not knowing how to rule them, inadvertently making things worse and then leaving, only her ultimate plan is to do the same to westeros

and she is so delusional when talking abt westeros, too, no critical thinking abt rhaegar or aerys or how the rebellion was justified, robert is always "the usurper" (it's never "aerys was a tyrant and deserved to be deposed"), the starks and the lannisters are exactly the same, the people will welcome her with open arms.....

like i genuinely don't understand how people are so convinced and fanatical about this girl being a hero and about targ restoration being a good thing. you don't need a phd or to make up a complicated house-of-cards theory to see how she's a ticking bomb waiting to go off 🤷‍♀️

and i say this as a cersei stan bc it can be mad entertaining to root for a sassy bonkers queen but it's absolutely wild to me how people hate cersei so much for being a ~villain yet fall for dany's pov trap every time

i'm not even getting into her white saviour complex and how her quest for violent revolution is repeatedly thwarted by the realities that people cannot live in your glorious utopia if you do not properly envisage a system to replace the one you just tore down & make space for them in that brave new world where they can actually thrive, instead of being worse off than before

dany is basically an incompetent politician, a terrible visionary and an awful queen. and, worst off all, she is blinded by her own delusions that she is a Good, Moral Person so when she will inevitably be faced with the reality that the people of westeros do not want her or she is not the rightful queen (bc of either jon or fAegon - take ur pick, whichever theory you like best)..... i think she's gonna snap

i have no idea how that will go down, though, since it's only natural that she be involved in the fight against the others, too, somehow

[mirai-desu]

Bonus » Series 3, Episode 6

“Eliza. I assume she is the reason you're late.” “She... she was working the same case as me, yes, but that's no--” “William, you talk of her incessantly. The things she says and does, her triumphs and disasters. Of course you claim she vexes you so and causes you nothing but trouble, but the truth is there for all to see.” “My relationship with Eliza is purely one of friendship.” “You are in love with her. ... Unless you can convince me otherwise. ... Well, I wish you luck. You will need it.” “Arabella--” “And I say this out of friendship, not malice. Eliza's ambition will outweigh everything, even her feelings for you. Nothing will ever be enough for her. Certainly not the future you envisage. You can see yourself out.”

[the-hopefulpenguin]

Commentary on this exchange from The Isoru Airlift?

Excerpt from Princess Ursa’s Remarks to Republic City Press Corps:

“We stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the United Republic in opposing abuses of human dignity and defending the rights of citizens, wherever they may be. But we cannot send Fire Army troops into the Earth Kingdom. To do so would revive the memory of the Hundred Year War, fuel the grievances which empower warlords and genocidaires, and undermine any hope of a lasting peace.”

—

Republic City Gazette: Fire Nation Refuses Military Support to Isoru Evacuation, Citing Escalation Risk

Yue Bay Times: BETRAYAL! Fire Nation Princess Stabs Brother in Back

Star of Teyana: FINE, WE’LL DO IT OURSELVES: Sixteen retired officers make the case for the war, exclusive on page 3.

The Times of Caldera: United Republic, Fire Nation, “Shoulder-to-Shoulder” for International Peace, Says Princess Ursa

Equality Now: Arrogant Fire Nation Once Again Abandons United Republic

—

Iroh,

You won’t be surprised to hear I’ve been following the news closely. I think I can help.

A. Sato.

Isoru! The fic I really ought to get back to and a setting I am keen to talk about, so thank you for the ask! There’s a few different components in this, so apologies if the reply rambles a little.

First, ref: Ursa’s remarks, I think there’s some commentary on both the context of including it, and the content too. On context, I wrote this with a bit of an eye towards the sort of role a member of the Fire Nation royal family might have in a crisis situation. My sense was that while Ursa is not a professional diplomat, as a very visible symbolic representative of her country, she has particular utility in public diplomatic efforts (this leaves aside the liaison value-add of her brother being the UF military C-in-C, of course). Hence, it felt appropriate to have a major intervention in the narrative come via comments to press.

Regarding the context of her remarks, the language is quite modern/real world in some respects (“We therefore, here in Britain, stand shoulder to shoulder with our American friends” to quote Tony Blair), but the sentiment is linked into the LOK world-state. I think the Fire Nation, while far from abandoning the military instrument of national power, has huge sensitivities regarding deployment of ground troops into the Earth Kingdom. This is both a cultural piece, but also political; leaving aside the textual comments Ursa makes about their reception in the EK, there are likely domestic revanchists in the Fire Nation who would be emboldened.

Also – the reference to abuses of human dignity is a stealthy shout-out to the Conventions on the Protection of Innocents and Respect for the Dignity of the Human Person (also known as the Cranefish Conventions), from another one of my fics.

Second, the newspaper headlines; I love newspapers very much! The thinking here is to represent a spectrum of opinion – of course The Times of Caldera dodges the whole issue and notes only the joint resolve of the two nations, while the Gazette is an even-handed broadsheet. Equality Now is particularly interesting (I think, anyway) because it references a broader headcanon I have that the Equalist movement had strong nationalist shades, focusing its ire on foreign benders. And Star of Teyana being militaristic is a reference to some of my thinking on the United Forces’; Teyana is a major base for them.

Last, with Asami! So the Airlift was initially envisaged as part of a series of stories called ‘Sato’s War’ which was predicated on the assumption of Asami Sato becoming heavily enmeshed within the United Forces’ and Kuvira’s efforts to manage conflict in the Earth Kingdom* - with all the moral peril and interesting high-tech shenanigans involved. In general, I think she is the sort of woman who wants to solve problems, particularly technical ones, and whether one is an Irohsami shipper or not, she definitely has a working relationship with Iroh in any event.

*Chapter 3 of the story would feature Asami flying on a secret diplomatic mission to Kuvira to request her army supports United Forces troops cut off in Isoru; in my notes, I have a line from Iroh where he muses that Asami “has a face which could launch a thousand ships; no doubt her words could re-route an armoured brigade.” On a less self-indulgent note, I think there is some rich story-telling material in the connection between Kuvira and the United Forces during the timeskip which would be great to unpick.

Thank you again for the ask!