#points to her for knowing herself well enough to identify her musical tastes at a young age

[deadmomjokes]

Yesterday I was flipping radio stations while waiting at a red light when I hear a deeply offended gasp from the back seat.

"No, don't switch it!! Turn it up!"

I do, in fact, turn it up, only to learn via the radio display that it's a song by Rage Against the Machine. (Note: I know exactly no songs by Rage Against the Machine, they're just not my cup of tea.) And my child-- my four year old child who, by her own choice that day, was wearing a fluffy pink flower skirt and sparkly cowboy boots-- takes in the screamy, guitar-smashy chaos, gives the most contented sigh of approval, and says,

"Awwww yeah, I LIKE this one!"

And starts head banging in her car seat.

[mylittlegemlins]

Nimona Review part 2 (english)

Some of the transitions are pretty cool, the scene where Ballister leaves the house and goes straight to jail seemed perfect to me, but I see complaints about the closet scene as they go from arguing very intensely in a dark place to a scene where they don't there is more noise than that of Nimona coming out like a rhinoceros with a blow to a lighted room. Some of it doesn't feel right.

Turning to the characters, Nimona is the protagonist and she is someone who is easy to get attached to, her redesign is beautiful, her comedy, her expressions of fury are funny and her drawings are something I want to hang on my wall, but she is also someone who She has been through a lot of pain, and they are open with her boss about how she feels about it, her eyes full of disappointment in the strong scenes make me want to hug her.

When she shows herself as a villain she gives me vibes that she could perfectly well be the daughter of Dementia and Black Hat, since it is capable of generating a massacre in an epic sequence of one minute, I have never seen someone kick so many people in the form of an ostrich, it is impressive, Balliste has puppy eyes that make him adorable, but In addition to this, he is the father you always wanted, and the only one with enough patience to put up with Nimona, I feel that Golden did not shine much in this movie, but I like him much better than in the novel, the scene in which he yells at him queen that cutting arms is not a show of love, is the perfect representation of when you want to shout everything you think but you choose to fit into society.

However, when it seems like he's showing Ballister that he's being manipulated while watching the director's video only to finish it off with Nimona being the one manipulating him, it's a little disappointing but it shows you how much brainwashing there is in the institute, and How much trust there is between these characters, Balliste trusts Golden but also Nimona and Golden trusts the director despite being in conflict with her boyfriend. This is how perfect the relationship between the characters is built, the relationship between Nimona and Ballister fills me with tenderness. Nimona is the one who puts all the initiative to be able to be friends with Blackheart, she is the one who rescues him from prison and offers him her support, in addition to telling him directly that if everyone hates him, it is the same as her, as if he had no choice but to be their friend since they are all they have, not only is Nimona ready to make friends after 1000 years of being alone, but she wants to be with someone she admires because she identifies with him, starting from that point, the moments they have to Getting to know each other happens very quickly, one day they destroy the institute, in the afternoon they destroy the market, and it seems that at night they interview the guard who recorded the video, but I love that Nimona is willing to talk, she never reveals exactly what it is, but yes who come up and take the time to play monopoly and dance to celebrate. Those scenes fill me with tenderness, The scene where Nimona is having a nightmare and her paternal/boss/figure tucks them in and tells them that they are is home…. God I'm dying of love.

The movie slaps Disney in the face showing a clear romance from the first minute, and a kiss to end pride month with a flourish, I adore you Noelle. The fact that they premiered it at pride fits like a glove considering the problems they had producing this movie after Blue Sky closed, and yet they still put references to the studio in the movie! Stay to appreciate the credits for a moment because the song is gold, and me and my brother were dancing to the soundtrack, this girl has good taste in music, the song is called T-rex by K. Flay.

Overall it's a very funny movie. I also loved the world building. Something that goes against "Elements" that shows you almost nothing about the cloud people and the earth people, while in this movie the townspeople interact with the protagonists and with the press all the time, they show you what kind of world medieval futuristic is the one you find yourself in, they tell you about the wall of what was outside, the hatred towards the show and the devotion towards Gloreth that people had for generations, how advanced are their flying cars and their screens that put out the news live, contrasting with the army of knights and the statues of hundreds of years, and more importantly, it shows you a world where society is as classist and prejudiced as in reality, who prefer to leave a helpless baby as long as they avoid problems, that they do not respect the opinions of their own queen and that they believe the director's defense despite the fact that it took up to days in saying it. Of course, it has many exaggerations with the purpose of entertaining, but who has not seen the effect of certain societies such as the Asian one that does not dare to touch a colleague who faints just so that someone else takes the drama or even the medical expenses?

There are moments where you can see the 20% that surely they had to do fast, because I feel the scene of the demon baby is too bright Although there are many differences with the graphic novel, the message is the same, an allegory to the social rejection suffered by queer people, and they do not bother in the slightest to hide their hints (we can talk about "you're gonna die in the closet" lmao)

Nimona is obviously gender fluid, I love that they're so much more open and complains that they're the monster. Because both in the novel and in the movie, Nimona was not a serial killer when they started calling her a monster, but she became the """""monster""""" that the institute wanted her to be so that they would destroy her and remain like the heroes of his story.

By the way, the scenes in the previews in which Nimona is drawn as a bird or when he tells Balliste how to like the videos don't appear in the movie, so I'm happy they bothered to animate content to promote it. In this version there is no indication that GoldenLion has sliced off the arm of her boyfriend on purpose, something that seemed very accurate to me because it does sound toxic to go out with someone who disabled you. By the way, what the heck with the arrow scene, Nimona admits that it hurts her but she doesn't scream at her pain like a human being.

I like the ending. Far from saying goodbye, Nimona greets Balliste as soon as she manages to recover her form. I would qualify the film as +7 just because they kept 2 drops of blood. I am proud of Nate, I already admired her work on Netflix because of the She-ra reboot, it took her two studios to get her work recognized on Netflix even though she started as a simple graduation project. Now the whole world will be able to know your girl. Nimona.

spanish version: https://www.tumblr.com/mylittlegemlins/721658744305516544/nimona-review-spanish?source=share

part1: https://www.tumblr.com/mylittlegemlins/721661075018350592/nimona-review-english?source=share

[lizzygrantarchives]

The Sunday Times, October 2, 2011

The mysterious Lana Del Rey is behind the song of the year, Video Games. Does it matter who pulls her strings?

Even by the breakneck standards of the digital world, Lana Del Rey’s year has been a fast one. The 24-year-old New Yorker, real name Lizzy Grant, started generating interest in Britain in the spring, when her song Video Games and, more important, the video for it that she subsequently posted on YouTube began to create a stir. In the five months that have followed, Grant’s pseudonym has been dropped so many times, and the hype/mythology machine stoked so vigorously, that, inevitably, a backlash has begun. So far, so virally predictable. What is refreshing — or plain insane, depending on your viewpoint — is that a backlash against the original backlash is now rapidly gaining support. And what is easy to forget, amid all the hubbub, is that Video Games is quite simply the song of the year. Yes, it’s that good.

Back to the chatter, though, for it is deafening. Every constituency involved is manning the barricades. Fans acclaim Grant as one of the best new singers of her generation. Detractors, meanwhile, post poison about her rich dad, self-mythologising back story, mysteriously deleted debut album and suspiciously voluptuous lips, the last presumed by the doubters to be surgically enhanced. (Grant has, surely unwisely, entered the debate herself, responding on one website: “Right — I didnt get surgery whoever the f*** u are — i didnt even have a house to live in let alone $ to f*** w my face.”) Behind the scenes are management, label executives and publicists whose air of micromanaging secrecy communicates not confidence, but anxiety. That’s a pretty rich, not to say putrid, brew. 'I haven’t listened to anything new for 10 years, because, you know, I like what I like'

Yet, and it is important to remember this, the main bullet points of the marketing plot are working with a smoothness beyond the wildest dreams of any team tasked with launching a new artist. Radio is hugely supportive (Video Games is predicted to rise to the Radio 1 A-list this week); other influential tastemakers are jumping on board. What this at once ideal and fractious scenario says about the new lines of communication between artist and fan, and the obstacles that — the democracy and egalitarianism of the web notwithstanding — are placed in the way of them, is about much more than Video Games or Lizzy Grant.

She just happens to be the most recent and glaring example of this new commercial culture. She also happens to be very pretty. Does that make her a fair target? Well, let’s ask her.

Sitting in a London hotel room, her fake-nailed fingers clamping a succession of cigarettes, the singer is easily identifiable as the retro femme fatale who stares expressionlessly at the camera in Video Games, yet utterly different: one minute hard-eyed and verbally robotic (ending some answers with an abrupt, and terminating, “Um, yeah”), the next seemingly unsure of herself, inarticulate or unedited. Some of her replies are so hair-raisingly, well, wrong, almost Miss World-like, you wonder why she was ever let loose with an interviewer.

Talking about the failure of her debut album, and her musical influences, she says: “When I started listening to people I consider to be musical icons, my tastes were sort of confirmed in my own mind. And that’s why, you know, even though nothing good ever happened, I was deterred from trying to be a noteworthy artist. But I wasn’t deterred from making things that I thought were beautiful. In fact, I haven’t listened to anything new for 10 years, because, you know, I like what I like. I mean, sometimes I find things that strike me, but in general I have names — I like, you know, Jeff Buckley, he was a show stopper. When I see footage of him live, I just think, ‘He’s unbeatable.’ Kurt Cobain, just his face alone was, like, enough. He didn’t even have to sing, his presence was scary, sick. Elvis, Frank — and Bob Dylan.”

Then there are glimpses of another, much clearer and less bewildered or regal person, as when she returns, again, to the shelving of her first album. Overseen by the Paul McCartney and Regina Spektor producer David Kahne, and either self-titled or called Nevada (the internet is unclear on this), the album was preceded by a well-received EP in late 2008. A few tracks can still be found online, and songs such as Kill Kill, Kinda Outta Luck and, especially, the blowsy, strings-drenched pop-noir of Yayo are audibly the work of the same artist you hear on Video Games and its double A-side, Blue Jeans: woozy, nostalgic odes to glamour with a murky underside, to love on the wrong side of the tracks, and as visually evocative as anything seen on Grant’s own videos, which feature grainy Super 8 footage spliced with television news snippets, the Stars and Stripes swaying in the wind, and the singer herself, dressed in vintage clothes. If these songs are anything to go by, it must have been a remarkable record. So, presumably, the shelving of the project (and Grant’s management seem determined to sit on it, preferring to big up her new material) must have been devastating. And have made her wary?

“Oh, I’m wary,” Grant agrees. “Incredibly wary. But I’m not jaded. I’m nervous, definitely — probably more than most people you might meet this year. I don’t think I’ve really left anything [behind], stylistically; my new songs are still autobiographical and cinematic. Having the record just shelved for two years, that’s difficult for anyone, especially when you’re younger and you make it with a famous producer, which David was.

“It was an exciting time and, making the record I thought... it’s not that I wanted anything to be larger than life, I just thought, ‘Well, here I am, I’m on my way to not having to do anything else in life.’

And to have absolutely no reaction, and no recognition, and no nothing, after you make a record that you think is perfect, you definitely start to think, ‘Well, good try, but you’d better go find something else to do that works.’ Because, if you keep chasing something that isn’t working, you’ll drive yourself insane.”

The precise reason the album was shelved is as much a mystery as why anybody around Grant felt it was okay for her to enter the publicity fray with stories such as her time spent living in a New Jersey trailer park (albeit, apparently, an unusually bohemian one). Her father is a multi­millionaire domain-name entrepreneur and philanthropist. Then there is the effort to market her as an indie artist — her new releases are coming out on a small label, Stranger Records — when even cursory research reveals that she has major-label dollars behind her, and that she is working with a small army of the usual bespoke-songwriter suspects.

Such nervousness and sleight-of-hand tactics are baffling — who cares if she’s not totally “authentic” (whatever that means) or bears traces of manufacture? Yet neither Grant nor her handlers are forthcoming about details they consider awkward — and they are a little too energetic with the opposite, with results that are what would be politely described as bearing signs of embellishment. (I’d say enhancement, but let’s not go there.)

Her team cannot, however, be solely blamed for such distractions, although these seem at best unnecessary and at worst counterproductive. We are all culpable, and perhaps need to refocus on what really matters — and, for starters, ignore the dafter end of the hype and airbrushing. You sense that Grant is becoming aware of the pitfalls of her current situation. Talking about some of the comments posted beneath her videos, she says: “Obviously, you’re not going to enjoy ones like ‘Oh, look at the hype’ and ‘This will all be over before it begins’.” Then, forlornly, she adds: “If I could do it over, I think I would just post the song.” Ah, “just” the song.

Well, perhaps that’s the point. Listen to Video Games’s incredible bridge, on which, as harp and piano ascend, the singer captures the rapture/wistfulness one-two of love, singing, almost sighing, “It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you”, then tell me you’re still bothered by her lips or her parentage. It will say far more about you than about Lizzy Grant if you are.

Originally published on thetimes.co.uk with the headline Who’s in the driving seat?, and in the October 2, 2011 print edition of The Sunday Times.

[expectingtofly]

Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day

2k

this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!

*****

How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?

Well.

Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.

And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.

So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).

“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.

“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.

“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.

“It’s the pride flag.”

Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).

Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.

“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”

Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.

Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”

Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”

Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.

“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.

At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...

Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.

“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.

Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.

Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.

When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.

“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.

“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”

“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.

“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.

“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.

“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.

“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”

“Have fun!” Cas called.

“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.

As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.

Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.

“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”

“Ti-ce-a-tops?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”

“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.

“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”

Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.

“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.

“I don’t know if they have those.”

As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.

“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.

“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.

“Yeah, actually.”

Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?

“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,

“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”

“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.

Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”

“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”

“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.

“Just looking,” Dean told them.

“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.

“Thanks.”

“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”

The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”

Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”

The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.

“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.

“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.

Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”

Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.

“Do you want one, Dee?”

“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”

“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.

Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.

“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.

“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.

“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.

“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.

“I’m like you!”

Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”

Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”

She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”

Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”

“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.

“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”

“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?

They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”

“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.

“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.

“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,

“I don’t want, we’re not—“

“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,

“We're never bringing you shopping again!”

Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Dear 'Anime Bad' Anon: I Want To Help I pity your situation, so please have a list of weebshit that isn't moeified, or wherein the cutesy art-style serves a greater purpose. (Note: though they won't be soft marshmallow uguuuu, they may still have issues in other ways. Some may have aged badly with regards to how society views or portrays groups or beliefs, some may have upsetting content and dark themes, and some may simply not be to your taste. Note: Anime is a genre, not a monolith, and the disparaging stereotype that it's all cute girls uwuing over their brother s-s-senpai!!! is as much of a disservice as saying all western movies are just vapid cash grab superhero movie sequels with no inegrity or thought put into them. There are indeed a lot of superhero movies, but they're not all identical schlock (megamind vs venom vs kick-ass),  but even more than that, there is a wealth of creative endeavor just beyond the veil of Marvel's cape: just as there are plenty of good anime if you dig past the isekai high school harem wish fulfillment genre that no one wants to keep making but people keep making because it prints money to a very small demographic of the animation equivalent of a mobile game whale thereby allowing this frankly quite-small industry to work on engaging and worthwhile series where the budget permits, Regardless,)

Mushi-shi: -Pros: gorgeous animation, tranquil vibes, episodic stories so you can cram in an episode between classes or on your lunch break. highly recommended by the literal-who typing this out. -Cons: some themes or stories may cause emotional distress, learning to tell apart Urushibara Yuki's characters is a learning curve.

Baccano-Pros: meticulously-researched 20s-and-30s-era mafia violence with a hint of the supernatural, as a treat, told anachronistically with flair and jazz music. practically made to be binge-watched. the novels are finally getting translated into english as well. -Cons: lots of characters to keep track of, fair bit of blood and violence, some scenes or themes may be upsetting, lots of jumping around between different time periods. See Also: Durarara, another series by Ryōgo Narita with a ton of characters and a plot with more threads an overpriced sheet.

Cowboy Bebop-Pros: incredibly well-regarded, space bounty hunters are cool, episodic series that slowly takes on a plot towards the end, fantastic animation, scoring, and even dub work.  -Cons: some scenes or themes may be uncomfortable, some parts have not aged quite so well, the smart doll version of the main character is ugly, you're gonna carry that weight.

Trigun-Pros: starts lighthearted, develops an increasingly investing plot as the series goes along. fictional westerns are cool. this world is made of love and peace -Cons: some scenes or themes may be upsetting, and probably will be. gun violence is naturally present, but that ain't all of it.

Hellsing (standard or Ultimate. or Abridged)Pros: vampires killing nazis. the original adaptation isn't bad, the second adaptation (ultimate) is generally viewed as an improvement. abridged is a youtube parody version that was so popular the voice actors reference it in convention interviews.Cons: a Lot of violence, even trending to the gorey side of things. Uncomfortable Themes Everywhere, but it's a horror-tinged action series about killing nazis, so that's to be expected. 

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood-Pros: while the original anime was quite good, the second iteration is a large improvement. does to alchemy what naruto does to ninjas: It's Basically Battle Magic. the plot starts on a strong note and doesn't let up from there. -Cons: there are distressing scenes and themes that may or may not be tolerable to the viewer. there are moments of cheesecake and even an occasional joke or a moeblob here and there, and it's not all doom and all gloom all the time, but this doesn't detract from the abject horror-despair that comes to permeate this series as it progresses. finally understand why people on the internet respond so negatively to the name 'nina'! 

[Mod: many more recs/reviews under the break, worth reading for those who like more obscure anime and animation]

Grave of the Fireflies-Pros: you will remember how to cry. it's a good reminder that one country's 'triumphs' often come at the expense of another country's people.  -Cons: this movie is incredibly dark, do not watch if you are in a bad headspace. see also: Barefoot Gen, a similar tale but this time from the perspective of an actual survivor from Hiroshima.

Michiko to Hatchin-Pros: an actually diverse cast of characters tangled up in a messy and very humanizing story, interspersed with Shinichiro Watanabe's particular flare for adventure. -Cons: some scenes or themes are very likely to be distressing. can be tricky to find, too.

Mo no no Ke (not the ghibli movie, though it is also quite good.) -Pros: incredibly unique art style and pacing that draws heavily from japanese theatre traditions, every screenshot is wallpaper-worthy. -Cons: may cause motion sickness. it is a psychological horror series, and one that does not need blood, nor gore, to cause visceral emotional response in the viewer. scenes and themes will be distressing- as really, that's the point.

Tokyo Godfathers-Pros: a transwoman, a (self-identified) homeless bum, and a runaway teen girl find a newborn in the baby on christmas. incredibly wholesome, somehow, and grounded in reality, with wonderful animation from the tragically late satoshi kon. -Cons: it is grounded in realism, and sometimes, people are dicks. mild transphobia warning, too, but in-universe- the transwoman herself is portrayed with kindness and allowed to be her own (wonderful!!!) person. still, viewer be mindful.

Kino no Tabi (the first series is my preferred, the second is shinier but lacks emotional impact- in my onion.) -Pros: mostly episodic, very unique series that can be gritty where it counts and kind where it matters. -Cons: some scenes or themes might be disturbing. finding it's not easy, either, and unfortunately, i don't think the novels are being translated right now, either.

Spice and Wolf-Pros: it's mostly about economics. there are shenanigans, a harvest god, and a slowly burgeoning romance, sure, but it's still mostly about economics. -Cons: there are moments of cheesecake and comedy, and moments that may cause distress to the viewer. it may or may not be to your taste.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica-Cons: yeah i know, it's moeblobs.  -Pros: you're gonna watch 'em die, though, in case that may interest you. it's quite a good subversion of the magical girl genre overall. somehow volks hasn't made an MDD of anyone from the series and i will never understand how that didn't happen.

Wolf Children: Ame to Yuki-Pros: watch a family grow together as a newly-single mother does her best to raise her twin children after the tragic loss of their father.  -Cons: keep tissues handy. certain scenes or themes may be uncomfortable.

Lupin III (Red Jacket, Ghibli, and the new 3D animation are all A+) pros: heist comedy elevated to an art form before half (or more!) of the people reading this were born. the english dubbed series that used to air on adult swim is a treat. cons: this franchise started in THE SIXTIES, so naturally, some shit has not aged well. certain series (fujiko mine) are darker than others in themes and material. the 3d movie that released recently is an excellent starting point.

Samurai Champloo-Pros: breakdancing samurai, a fascinating roster of characters, and a superb soundtrack by the tragically passed Nujabes. -Cons: it was made in the weird era of the transition from analog to digital animation and so the /series master/ was animated at a painfully low resolution, so even if there's a bluray out there (I haven't looked,) it will be an upscale, which doesn't always look the best. as well, there are scenes and themes that may make the viewer uncomfortable here and there.

The Works of Studio Ghibli Oh, I'm sorry, Ponyo too suffused with childhood wonder for you? My Neighbor Totoro not depressing enough?  In addition to the infamous Grave of the Fireflies, Studio Ghibli has made a wealth of movies that aren't aimed squarely at the kodomo (children's) sector. -Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind: climate change existential dread, the movie -Castle in the Sky: government obsession with obtaining weapons of mass destruction destroys everything beautiful, the movie -Pom Poko: human-caused deforestation and urbanization is destroying the natural world and all that live in it, the movie -Princess Mononoke: industrialization will be the death of everything beautiful in the world, the movie, with a side of sometimes everyone (and no one) is the villain when everyone is simply trying to survive -Howl's Moving Castle: The Physical Manifestation of Depression is a Liquid Ooze, the Movie, also War Is Bad It's not all depressing, but let it never be said that Hayao Miyazaki was subtle. Whisper of the Heart is a good coming-of-age story, Kiki's Delivery Service is a classic, Tales from Earthsea is divisive among fans of Ursula K. Le Guin but I personally liked it. From one studio alone there is a wealth of opportunities.

And that's really the point. These are just some from the top of my head. There are so very many options outside of the cute-girls-doing-cute-things genre that I couldn't list them all if I was here for a week. Or as Madoka Magica so ruthlessly showcases, even series that appear a certain way on the surface might not be what you bargained for once you look into them! These are all (I think) mostly older, mainstream-appeal series that should be easy to track down, too -- there are all kinds of singular animations like The Diary of Tortov Roddle, crowdfunded experiments like KICK-HEART, Masterpiece World Theatre renditions of classic (western) novels that never get talked about, films like A Silent Voice that confront social issues- and of course, series like Rozen Maiden that helped popularize this very hobby!

There is literally an ocean of content to explore from Japanese creators alone, and it opens up even more if you look into works from other parts of Asia- just look at how popular manwha have become, or Chinese animations like Leafie, a Hen Into the Wild! It's a genre unto itself, with all the breadth of content and inter-industry problems that come with it, and without any of the respect that similar art forms have been granted over the years. The way an entire culture's art form is often disparaged, disregarded, and belittled- and by extension, the way most of Asia's animated endeavors are often rolled up into that reductive dismissal along with anime and manga- is honestly Not Great, and there is absolutely a thread of xenophobia that runs through it. The industry has so very many problems (low wages, poor training, overwork of everyone ever, archaic financial modules, the exclusivity and breadth of merchandising necessary to turn a profit and how it leads to consumer burnout and disconnection over time, and yes, the way minors are portrayed not just in anime, but in Japanese media in general- and how much of that is actually bad (some of it is indeed,) and how much if it is cultural difference (I've heard people call the scene where the family in Totoro bathe together problematic because of the nudity, but I've also only heard people say that from the West)

-- none of the actual problems affecting the people who produce this medium are gonna improve when the general response to "animators frequently have to live at home to survive" is "that's what happens when you're a weeb."  It's 5am and I'm gonna point out the problems in the narrative around how we discuss this genre of entertainment because it's important, damn you! Regardless, thank you for coming to my unasked for and overlong TED talk about animation on a doll collecting drama blog, feel free to call me a pathetic weeb etcetera on your way out- but while you do so, might I suggest you also go watch a choice animated series! My current go-to is Bofuri, which is a cute-girls-doing-cute-things moefied isekai series that I refuse to apologize for watching. Be free. (The battle scenes are great and it captures the feeling of learning to play a new MMO with your friends better than most video-game-based anime I've seen in a long, long time. does anyone even still remember .hack? how about serial experiments lain...?)

~Anonymous

[arahul-abyssia]

Festive

Writing number 4 for Nintember (@starprincesshlc , @jklantern )! To hopefully escape the pit of Emotions™ that was the first three stories, here's some hopefully much much much lighter, more slice-of-life-ish fare.

This does correspond to prompts 16-20, but I got caught up in Real Life for a while, so it's going up mega-late, and also it's kinda... abridged from its original concept, and less polished. 'Tis the way the cookie hath crumbled this year...

~~ Horse, Color, Hats, World, Music ~~

Layna awoke to a loud and repetitive hooting in her ear. She blearily turned her head to the side to find a pair of black-framed bright red eyes staring at her with interest. It took several moments of staring before she was mentally present enough to avert her gaze, sit up, and look out the window at the horizon. As she had expected, the sun had only barely risen fully above it.

She turned back to her greeter. “Relos! How many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up?”

Relos merely, and quite literally, hooted with laughter and flew off out of her room. Layna knew it was futile to keep telling him not to wake her, not because of any obligation or the masterful internal clock of his, but because he knew she didn’t like it and he was a mischief-mongering imp.

Normally, she’d roll over and try to get a few more minutes of sleep, but that day was the first of one of the best weeks of the entire year, and she didn’t want to miss a single moment. She quickly pulled herself from her bed, cleaned and dressed herself, grabbed the pack she had prepared the night before, and hurried downstairs, hoping to get through the delightfully aromatic kitchen and out the door before--

“Aaaalwaaaalrwaaa!”

Standing between Layna and the door was the soft pink-and-cream form of Infra, who was gazing up at her with strikingly accusatory eyes, her hands on her hips.

“Yes, Infra, I know I haven’t eaten.”

“Laaalruuwaar!”

“It’s the first day of the festival and I want to do as much as I can! I’ll get something from one of the vendors.”

“Luulrwarraalyaaa!”

“Ugh…! Fine, if it’ll make you happy.”

Begrudgingly, she returned to the kitchen and sat at the table, as Infra went to the stove, gingerly placed an assortment of breakfast foods onto a plate, and set it before Layna, smiling at her with fairy-pink eyes that had nary a semblance of her previous visage. Unlike the rest of Pokémon in her family’s home, who were all quite content to leave the human part of the family to do as they pleased, the Audino practically operated like another mother to her, as if she needed a third one on top of her human two (who also were often subject to Infra’s mothering). Somehow, she had learned how to do a whole plethora of human home tasks and chores, and she never let Layna leave home in the morning without ensuring that she’d eaten. An outside observer might wonder why a Pokémon was apparently her morning caretaker, and not either or both of her mothers, but with both of them having jobs that began long before dawn, it was simply how things were in their house.

She had to admit that Infra was a surprisingly good cook. This evaluation, however, was not based upon the food that she was at that moment rapidly stuffing into her mouth, but rather upon the numerous meals from days where she wasn’t dead-set on going elsewhere as soon as possible. That morning’s breakfast, while certainly of Infra’s normal calibre, was given no time to rest upon Layna’s taste buds, and may as well have been tasteless for all she cared.

As soon as the last bite of egg left her fork, she jumped to her feet, practically threw the plate and silverware into the sink, and darted for the door, calling out as she left, “‘Kthankyoubyyyyeeeeee!”

Infra was not impressed with her, as projectile kitchenware was dangerous and eating that quickly would likely give her a stomachache, but she’d have time later to worry about such things. Her next task was to prepare food for the rest of the Pokémon scattered about the house, who all were beginning to come to consciousness, probably due to the clatter of cutlery, and she set about with the same dutifulness and joy she always did.

Layna, of course, hadn’t even a single neuron focused upon Infra’s judgment, as she was far more concerned with sprinting down a steep road with wanton abandon, the countless colors and lights and tents and tarps of the festival visible in the distance. It had already entered full swing, always beginning with the dawn, and she wanted to explore as much as she could. She had considered bringing along some of the Pokémon, but not long later decided to bring them along later in the day instead. She did not know why she made this decision, nor did she care.

The streets that had been blocked off for the festival were already bustling with people and Pokémon alike, almost each and every one nearly as energized as Layna was. She promptly began to wander the streets, turning and spinning and looking about enough that she ought to have made herself sick, but this had not lasted for even five minutes before she was drawn to a larger vendor stall by an overpowering floral and fruity aroma.

As should be expected, an impossibly wide variety of flowers and fruits were on display, some having been made presentory and others still being attached to their plants, with countless more options upon the boards hanging from the awning.

“Well, hello there, young miss!” said one of the farmers behind the stand. “How can we help ya?”

“Oh, I’m just looking right now, sir.” She paused a moment, then was overtaken by a rather sudden curiosity. “There are so many flowers and berries here, how do you manage to pick and move them all?”

The farmer chuckled. “We have a lot of help, ‘specially around this time of year. Lot of it comes from extra hands, but it would still be impossible without the help of all our Pokémon, like ol’ Sitrus here.”

At this, he gestured to a Mudsdale beside him, which Layna had somehow managed to miss entirely.

“She’s lovely! And so… big…! I’ll bet she must be really strong, too!”

“More ‘n any of us could’ve expected! And she’s friendly, too; wanna pet her?”

Layna’s eyes immediately lit up. “Would I?!! I mean, uh, if she’ll let me…!”

The farmer laughed and brought the horse forward, and Layna tentatively reached up and placed a hand on her face. Sitrus took a moment to consider her latest contact, then, judging her satisfactory in that esoteric way few can ever decipher, leaned in to her touch. She giggled and stroked her a few times more, noting her fur’s strange combination of roughness and softness, before pulling her hand away. Sitrus, in turn, snorted a puff of hot air at Layna’s face before backing into the shade again.

“Aw, that means she likes you! Well, let me or any one of us know if ya want anything.”

“Will do, thank you!” Layna had no intention to buy anything at that time, not when there were countless other things to do and find and see at the festival. She proceeded to bury her face in several of the flowers around the stall, enveloping herself in their different, yet undeniably pleasant, scents, before scampering off to find some other point of interest.

She could have easily checked the maps of the festival area, which were scattered on boards and holographic signs all about the city and even available online, but this sounded boring and unfun, so she did not. Upon her winding, meandering, unfocused path through the streets were innumerable stalls and stands and attractions to take note of--more fruits and vegetables, tickets to special shows on later days, a ferris wheel to ride with someone else later, foreign cuisine and sweets--but it was not until she overheard the faint but unmistakable sound of music that she was drawn in once again.

Upon the boardwalk was a small stage with a frighteningly energetic group of musicians, surrounded by an even more enthusiastic crowd. They seemed to be in the middle of a rendition of a song Layna heard on the radio nearly every day, an anthem for Trainers detailing their goal to “Catch ‘em All.” She never saw the appeal--both of the song and of the objective--but it apparently spoke quite well to most others.

As they finished their performance--and on a much more somber note than the original song did--their main singer pulled the microphone from its stand and began pacing the stage. “I hope you folks are enjoying the show! Now, however, I’d like to take a break from the hype, and sing something a bit slower, something that’s… rather close to my heart.”

Layna watched as a Toxtricity--which had evidently been playing with the rest of the band, but which, just like the Mudsdale, she had failed at first to notice--stepped forward and began playing a slow guitar piece. The lead singer waited a moment, then began to sing a ballad in a tongue Layna could not understand. It was one she was certain she had heard before, but could not manage to identify it any way beyond that it was not the common tongue known by almost everyone across the world.

She tried to stay and listen, but immediately found that, beautiful though his singing was, she was not in the mood for slow music. Along with a small chunk of the band’s crowd, she turned and left, and returned to her aimless wandering and exploration.

Eventually, she found herself in a quarter rife with food vendors, most of whom had one or two individuals calling out and offering free samples. By the smells and descriptions alone, she was greatly tempted to take every single one she could. Of course, her mothers would likely have tried to limit how many she took so that she wouldn’t spoil her appetite for lunch, and Infra would surely have balked at the notion for the same reasons; also, most of the food in the area was rather far from being healthy. Indeed, she had significant reason to not do what she wanted to do.

However, none of those individuals were here to remind her, and as it turned out, the aromas were very persuasive. Layna marched forward and nabbed every sample in sight, only barely stopping to enjoy them before moving on to the next, and only doing so because of the crowds and lines slowing her down.

Her frenzy ended not fifteen minutes later, and as she looked about to find her next target of interest, she realized she had wound up on the very same street she had started on. Obviously, this would not do, as there were so many other, more interesting circles to walk in the festival’s streets.

However, with home being so near once again, she had half a mind to return to grab something to combat the rapidly rising sun, whose rays were just beginning to take too much precedence over the comfortable morning breeze…

“Twee-tweeoo-twrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

Or maybe I won’t have to after all!

A black-and-brown blur was barrelling toward her from the sky, making a frankly obscene level of noise. She stood firm and faced it, staring unblinking at the rapidly encroaching avian, before ducking at a perfect, precise, and repeatedly practiced moment. Like clockwork, Layna’s vision was shaded by an off-kilter hat (which she quickly adjusted), and the feathery form of a Taillow alighted upon her shoulder, whose face she began to delicately stroke.

“Thank you for bringing me my hat, Lond! Wherever would I be without you?”

“Twrrrt-t-twiii!”

“Wait, no, don’t tell me: Infra wanted me to not burn in the sun and you wanted to not be stuck inside with Relos.”

“Twrr-twrr-twrr!”

“I thought so… well, now that you’re here, how about sticking with me for a bit of exploration? I’m sure there'll be plenty of stuff to try!”

Lond pretended to think for a moment, then gave another enthusiastic chirp.

Layna giggled. “In that case, we mustn’t waste any more time! Onward!”

And with no decay to her exuberance, she sprinted off into the festival once more.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 6

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

The team takes on trivia. Emily strips in front of JJ. It's quite an evening for all.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come on, Jayje,” Penelope whined. “It’ll be good for you to go out.” 

“I’m sick,” JJ said, fake coughing. “And I need to get a head start on my project for my new media course. It’s worth forty percent.”

“Bullshit.” Penelope said, “I know for a fact that that isn’t due for two weeks. Tonight is NOT the make or break point in that assignment for you.” 

JJ sighed. 

“You need to get out. See the world. Do more than just play soccer, work out and do homework. You’ve been hiding since your break up. It’s not healthy.”

She had told herself she would stop avoiding Emily after she had figured out what her feelings were. Despite JJ’s realization that it was a genuine crush, that JJ truly liked Emily, JJ needed to also be sure that she wasn’t simply rebounding onto someone nearby. 

Someone pretty and smart and kind and who lived right across the hall.

“It’s trivia night JJ,” Penelope said, “and we have Spencer on our team it’ll be fun.” 

JJ sighed, looked up from where she lay on her bed. 

“Fine.”

“Make yourself pretty, you know who will be there,” Penelope replied, turning back to her make-up mirror to finish applying her purple lipstick. 

“Yeah thanks for that,” JJ said sarcastically, “I saw what you did there.”

“Who, me?” she feigned innocence. 

JJ changed from a plain t-shirt to a tighter, low cut long sleeved blue shirt. She then took her hair out of a ponytail, brushing it out before tucking it carefully behind her ears. On principle, she huffed the entire time, so that Penelope would know that she wasn’t happy about the situation, despite the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing Emily again. 

She took care to apply some eyeshadow, some blush and a pink lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There was something intimidating about Emily. She looked so… put together. With Will, he never really noticed, or cared, if she wore makeup, but Emily definitely would. 

God. This was stressful. Is this what liking girls was like? If it was, JJ was not sure she was cut out for it. 

At least she was going to be on home territory, as trivia was their thing, something that Penelope and JJ had been doing since their floor was forced into going back in first year.  

JJ was working hard at learning to relax a bit. Between maintaining her grades, soccer, and her new job editing press releases for the student government, she was already being pulled in multiple directions. A night out would be fun, she reminded herself. 

She tried to quell her nerves at going out with Emily. It wasn’t a date or anything. Just friends hanging out. JJ’s friends and Emily’s friends. Penelope’s meddling was further tying her to the girl across the hall by blending their friend groups. 

While half of her mind wanted this to happen, wanted to see Emily all the time and have an excuse to see her, smell her, hear her laugh…. JJ frowned as she realized that her crush complicated everything. Emily was already across the hall, and if she admitted her feelings, and they weren’t reciprocated, she would run into her all the time. Now, with Derek Morgan befriending Penelope and Spencer, and all of them going out together, JJ’s silly crush could send ripples across more than just her own life. 

JJ ran her hands through her hair, worrying about the possible ways she could fuck this up. She did not entertain the possibility that Emily could possibly like her back. First of all, she had no idea if she was straight or not. JJ didn’t even know how to tell. 

JJ glanced over to Penelope, who was finishing up her makeup sitting at her desk, looking into a small mirror on the desk. JJ knew Penelope was queer, as her roommate was not shy about it whatsoever. In her mug full of pens was a pride flag from last year’s pride parade. It was in June, so JJ had been back in Pennsylvania then, but she remembered seeing the joy on Penelope’s face in the photos she posted on Instagram. Penelope wasn’t the person she knew that identified as queer. In fact, Spence had recently told them that he was bi. It wasn’t like JJ was not aware of the community, she thought she was just supporting LGBT+ issues on principal, and for her friends. 

She hadn’t considered that when, in her politics class in high school, she was viciously debating on gay marriage for someone like herself. The topics always felt distant. Like something that affected someone else. She was so certain in her heterosexuality that she had joked about it to Penelope earlier in their friendship. 

The token straight friend, she had said. So much for that. 

“Pen,” JJ said, trying to force a neutral tone to her voice, and failing. “How did you know you weren’t straight?”

Penelope turned and simply stared at her for a long moment before giggling and saying: “Are you finally realizing you have a crush on Emily Prentiss?” 

JJ sat up in her chair. 

“What?” 

“Aw darlin’,” Penelope said to her, tilting her head, ”You barely talked about your break up. You were too busy literally running from your feelings for her ever since you ran into her at the library. I had to finally ask her out for you.”

“I–” JJ stuttered. “I talked about my break up.”

“So to answer your question,” Penelope said, matter-of-factly, “I realized when I had my first crush on a girl, just like you’re doing now. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

JJ’s jaw had dropped. 

“Babe, you came home one night babbling about how she taught you French,” Penelope giggled, “You might as well have held up a sign.”

JJ buried her face in her hands. 

“Oh god,” JJ said. “Am I gay? What am I?”

Penelope walked over and tossed her arm around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. 

“Aww baby’s first girl crush,” she cooed, “So happy to witness it first hand. You might be gay! Or bi, or something else. Don’t worry too much about the terminology right now.”

Unfortunately, JJ was worrying too much. About not just the terminology. 

Even if Emily was gay, or bi or whatever, she wouldn’t like someone like JJ. She was always a bit of a tomboy, barely knowing how to do make up and dressing like she was going to practise most days. JJ always felt a bit awkward when she dressed up, feeling most at home in joggers and a hoodie. 

Emily, on the other hand, was all elegant with her pretty black hair, her perfect eyeliner and the way she always looked out together when she went out. Moreover, Emily was cool. She listened to music on vinyl and her bookshelf was filled with classic novels and smoked cigarettes. She lived in multiple countries, spoke more languages than JJ hoped to ever learn.

Emily’s mom was an ambassador. She had a nanny growing up. She had a single room and was paying out-of-state tuition. Well, her mom was probably paying her tuition. 

JJ could only afford to be here because she was on a soccer scholarship, and barely had enough money to cover her caffeine addiction. The surprise small stipend from her new student government job was probably the thing keeping JJ from applying for a job off campus. 

Emily would never like someone like JJ, she thought. 

After checking herself in the mirror one final time, she looked at the time. 6:54. Emily and her friends would be there soon, and if JJ knew Spencer well, he would be showing up in just under a minute. 

There was a knock at the door. She was right. 

“Hi guys!” He said, entering their dorm room and taking his customary seat on the very edge of JJ’s bed. “Am I dressed properly? I wasn’t sure what to wear to a bar.”

He was wearing a button up, with a beige sweater vest over top, with slacks and converse to complete the outfit. 

“Aw Spence,” JJ said. “You look great, I promise.”

“Remind me to take you to the mall to get some party clothes,” Penelope quipped. 

“Those were two contradicting statements,” he complained. 

Once Penelope had finished adding rhinestones to her makeup look, they opened the door to find Emily flanked by two boys, waiting in the hall. 

Derek Morgan, JJ recognized, but the other one JJ hadn’t met before. 

“Hello all!” Penelope called out from inside their room. 

“Hi Derek, Emily,” JJ said politely, “I’m not sure we’ve met–“

She reached her hand out to shake the new boy’s hand. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and a serious expression on his face. 

“I’m Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.”

“Nice to meet you,” the boy said with a small—almost non-existent—smile, shaking her hand with a firm, confident grip. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“His friends call him Hotch,” Derek piped up punching his shoulder in a friendly way. 

“He’s pre-law,” Emily informed her, “we have a bunch of classes together.”

“I do not have that much experience with trivia,” Aaron admits, rubbing his shoulder and feigning injury. 

“No need!” Penelope says, rounding up on the group, “Spencer here is basically a genius. You’re just a warm body.”

“I just have an eidetic memory!” He said, piping up from in the room. 

With introductions complete, they headed to the small pub just off campus. It was a squat brick building tucked between a restaurant and an old book store. It had a nice back patio in the warmer months, and each Monday was trivia night. 

Just inside, the bouncer drew big xs on their hands to indicate that they were underage, which were all promptly wiped off once they were inside and found a table. The atmosphere inside was relaxed, the staff not really caring if people were drinking underage on a Monday night if they didn’t cause trouble.

JJ loved this bar. It was old, with exposed brick walls and large wooden rafters over their heads. The ceilings were low and the bar was packed and loud, making the place feel cozy, yet not quite claustrophobic. On weekdays, it was mostly locals or upper year students, as their peers were more likely to try to drink underage on the weekends. The crowd was quite a few younger adults, with the occasional older couple or group of middle aged women having a girls night. 

They found a table big enough for their group by just to the right of the bar, tucked out of sight, far from the bouncers. The six of them squeezing tight onto the rustic booth and shrugging off their coats.  

Trivia started at 7:30 pm, so they still had time to get settled and acquire some drinks. JJ was squished between Penelope and Emily’s friend Aaron, who was explaining that he played forward on the men’s hockey team. JJ knew he seemed familiar, realizing that she and he had probably crossed paths at athletics functions. 

“Did you guys rub the marker off your hand?” Spencer asked, too loudly, receiving a chorus of shushing in response.

“Dude,” Derek laughed, “Not so loud you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

“What do you mean?” He asked, the classic Reid obliviousness shining through. 

Emily tossed a casual arm around his shoulders. 

“You see,” she said, “we would like to drink this thing called alcohol tonight. If we have an x on our hands, we don’t get served.”

She pointed to the x on his hand. 

“Speaking of which,” Aaron said, standing up, “I’m grabbing a beer, who’s with me?” 

“Me!” Emily jumped up, with Derek on her heels, “What are you guys drinking? This rounds on me!”

JJ balked, drinks here were expensive. Did Emily actually want to buy them drinks? Or was she simply being nice. JJ should say no. 

“Vodka cran, por favour!” Penelope responded before JJ could politely decline. “JJ drinks beer, and Reid will take a soda.”

“What kind of beer?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” JJ said sheepishly, feeling guilty about someone spending money on her. At the same time, with JJ’s baby face, there was little chance the bartender would buy that she was already 21.

“Root beer please!” Spencer called out after her, though Emily had already turned around, following the boys over to lean against the bar. 

The bartender, a gorgeous young woman with shoulder length brown hair was serving Emily, leaning over the bar. Her eyes were rapt with attention as Emily ordered, even giving her a once over before she left to make their drinks. 

Emily seemed to flirt back, but JJ could not hear what she said, the two women going back and forth for a few moments, their attention hardly broken by the other patrons. 

JJ felt jealousy flare in her stomach. 

As Emily’s fingers grasped the glass, the other girl’s hands lingered, and JJ watched the bartender wink at Emily before turning towards the other patrons. Emily had a cropped tank top, with a plaid shirt on top. Her tight jeans gripped her long legs, and her heeled boots gave an extra inch or so to her already impressive height. She looked hot. The bartender clearly saw it too.

She tried to push back that jealousy. She had no right to be possessive, Emily and she weren’t dating, or anything, they were friends. New friends.   

“Your girlfriend is so good to us!” Penelope cooed, breaking JJ out of her thoughts. 

JJ felt a blush spread across her face. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” she sputtered. 

“Have you told her you like her yet?” Spencer asked. 

“Guys,” JJ exclaimed, “this is not the time. She’s right there.”

“She has not,” Penelope replied. “Even though it’s so obvious that Emily likes her back.”

“Pen!” JJ said as she buried her face in her hands. 

“Spencer you wouldn’t believe it!” she continued, unheeded, “Emily brought her cookies to the game!”

“She was just being nice!” JJ said, peeking out from between her fingers. 

“She didn’t give me any cookies,” Spencer pointed out. “And we spent almost three hours in class together.”

As he said that, Derek, Aaron and Emily returned with not only alcohol, but also nachos and fries for the table. JJ, too polite to protest when being offered food, and who had the appetite of an athlete, dug in. She took a guilty sip of her beer, and felt Emily’s eyes on her. 

Did Emily like her back? That couldn’t be true. JJ was just… Jennifer. JJ. No one special. Not like Emily. JJ decided not to linger on that thought, it wasn’t like JJ would risk their friendship by admitting she had feelings anyways. 

“You know,” Spencer said between mouthfuls, “I’ve never done trivia before, but I’ve been told I’d be good at it.

“No shit, kid,” Derek replied, talking through a mouthful of nachos, “You talk like a textbook.”

Spencer looked like he was unsure whether or not to take that as a compliment. 

“What are the topics?” Emily asked. 

“They don’t tell you until you get here,” Penelope replied, “Someone should be by with papers and pencils. 

As if summoned, a tall girl with short black hair came by, dropping off a pencil and a paper, split into four quadrants with ten blanks on each page. 

“Who wants to write?” JJ asked, looking around the table. 

Hotch was busy scanning the page for the topics: science, television, sports and music, and he didn’t realize the activity going on around him. Everyone, including Reid somehow, (Derek helped him) had stuck their finger to the tip of their nose, the official sign for ‘not it.’

He looked up, seeing the fingers and without comment he grabed the pencil.

“It’s for the best,” Emily said, “My handwriting is illegible.”

“Can vouch for that,” Derek laughed, “It’s like half cursive half something inhuman.”

Emily punched his shoulder and took another drink. 

“So how does this normally work?” Hotch asked, gesturing towards her paper with the pencil.

“Question, two minutes to write down your answer, no phones,” Penelope replied, “Then we swap with a nearby team to mark it! And so on for four rounds.”

“There’s prizes,” JJ added. “Whoever gets the most right in the end wins, we hand in the sheets to the MC to enter.”

“Sweet,” Derek said. 

“We need a name,” JJ said, looking up. 

“The twinkies,” Emily blurted. 

“The… twinkies?” Hotch repeated, incredulously. 

“I don’t know,” Emily muttered, “I panicked.”

The group burst into laughter, which Emily laughed along with. She was a good sport. 

“Let’s get Quizzical,” Penelope offered. 

“I don’t get it,” Spencer said. 

“Quiz me, daddy,” Penelope tried again, winking at Derek. 

“Settle down now, little lady,” Derek said, laughing. 

“We’re not doing that,” JJ laughed. 

She wasn’t sure who looked more horrified at the idea, Spencer or Hotch. 

“Counter intelligence,” Derek proposed instead, it has a nice ring to it and works with the trivia premise. 

“That’s funny,” Penelope said. “And seems ok for the prudish ones amongst us.”

Hotch wrote that down on their page. 

“Hello everyone,” the MC said through a microphone as the music quieted, a hush fell over the bar, with everyone listening to the women speak. “My name is Tara and I’ll be your MC tonight.”

Tara was beautiful, with curled hair tucked behind her ears and a friendly smile, she was tall, wearing high heels making her stand tall over the seated audience. JJ thought she might be a student, as she looked a bit familiar. 

“Hi Tara!” Someone yelled out from the other side of the bar. 

Tara chucked, “Hello Dave. Welcome all to Trivia Night at O’Keefe’s, we have brand-new questions and prizes for you. Are you excited?”

The audience whooped, Hotch pulled the paper close to him and readied his writing hand, taking a quick swig of his beer to prepare himself. 

“We’re going to start off with some science questions,” the MC said.

The group looked expectantly at Spencer, who looked slightly nervous. 

“First question,” Tara announced, “We’ll start by looking outside of our planet, at the others in our solar system. Scientists have long been able to calculate the masses of most planets, including Earth. It has taken longer to measure the masses of Venus and Mercury, primarily because these two planets lack what?”

“Moons, obviously,” Spencer said, too loudly. Other groups clearly overheard, writing the answer down on their cards.

“Reid,” Penelope scolded, “You’re on our team. Whisper please.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, taking a sip of his soda through a small straw. 

“Question two: of what material is a rhinoceros horn made?”

“Bone?” Derek whispered to them, “They look boney.”

“That’s actually a common misconception,” Reid replied, “They’re actually composed of keratin, which is essentially hair.”

“Huh,” Derek tilted his beer in acknowledgement. Hotch wrote that down. 

“How many hearts do octopuses have?”

“Three!” Emily hisses, before Spencer has the chance.

“Nice one,” Hotch murmured back to her.

“I like cephalopods,” Emily said, as explanation. 

JJ desperately wanted to comment on that, but the game moved too quickly. 

The next few questions were rapid fire, covering everything from the speed of a sneeze, to the surface area of the lungs, to the oxygen in the atmosphere, to which letters from the alphabet were missing from the periodic table (the answer was J and Q.)

JJ perked up when she heard the last question: “What are people who study or collect butterflies called?”

“Lepidopterists!” She said, triumphantly before the MC even listed the options.

Everyone looked at her, surprised about her beating even Reid to the punch.

“I- uh,” JJ stammered, “I collected butterflies as a kid.”

JJ caught Emily smiling at that. She looked away, embarrassed. 

Next was music, which, between Hotch and his impressive understanding of dad rock and Penelope’s encyclopedic knowledge of current pop music, and Derek’s well-rounded passion for all genres, they did fine. Reid pouted, as his eidetic memory doesn’t quite work for things he hasn’t read. 

JJ, unfortunately, was not any help. JJ liked music, but she did not bother memorizing facts about writers or sampling or anything like that. She just liked listening to it. 

After that was sports, and that topic went by quickly with JJ, Derek and Hotch answering the questions with a high degree of confidence. 

Hotch, who was already writing aggressively and getting into it, wrote more and more excitedly, and on the second to last sports question—about the composition of a baseball—he snapped the lead off the pencil right off. 

This caused sheer chaos. 

With no writing utensil, one more answer to write down, they scrambled. JJ shrugged helplessly, typically known as the mom friend in her group, she felt bad that she had nothing to offer. After a moment, Penelope discovered a fluffy pink gel pen she found at the bottom of her purse. 

“Is the ink pink, too?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He tried writing. The ink was pink and sparkly. 

“Yes, sir,” Penelope replied. 

“Did you just call me ‘sir’?”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

During the brief intermission between Sports and Television, somehow the Salem witch trials came up in conversation. (It was actually because Penelope had mentioned the Blair Witch Project and Spencer misheard, but that’s neither here nor there). 

“She was four?” JJ demanded, “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh I read about this,” Penelope said, “Dorothy something, she was accused of witchcraft alongside her mother.”

“Dorothy Good, also referred to as Dorcas Good, was only four years old when she was arrested in 1692. According to her accusers, she had allegedly bitten them on their arms. She was actually placed in jail and interrogated by Salem officials where they took the fact that she had a pet snake as proof that she was a witch, as the snake would serve the role of her animal familiar.”

“She was a child,” JJ said, horrified.

“Yup,” Spencer replied, unfazed. JJ frowned but continued writing. 

The last one was television, which was very clearly Penelope’s favourite. 

“Friends ended in May 2004 after how many seasons?”

“Oh I know that one,” Hotch said, “Seven.”

Hotch wrote that down in pink ink, the fuzzy pom-pom danced as he wrote.  

“Amy Poehler, Rob Lowe and Chris Pratt worked together on which US comedy series?”

“Parks and Rec,” Penelope said, “Parks and Recreation, God, I should rewatch that. Such amazing girl-power vibes in that one.”

“What were the names of the two government agents played by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson in the 1993-2002 series X-Files?”

“Special Agent Fox Mulder and Dr. Dana Scully,” Emily said with a smile. 

“Wait, you too Prentiss?” Derek said. “Nerding out with Reid tonight.”

“Guilty as charged,” Emily said, “What can I say, I’m a sucker for Gillian Anderson.”

JJ’s mind stuck on that comment. Was she simply a fan of the acting? Or was she implying some sort of attraction to the actress. JJ did not ask. Her mind was wandering for too long, all while looking at Emily, that she missed the next question. 

Whatever it was, Hotch was informing her that the answer was ‘72 survivors’. 

Questions about Saturday Night Live, The Office, Scooby-Doo and a few old-timey shows that they didn’t recognize followed. 

“The last question for the night!” Tara announced, “It’s been lovely being your MC for tonight. I hope you all had as much fun as I did. You ready?”

The crowd cheered.

“Ok this one’s for all the nerds out there: what sci-fi series premiered in 1966?”

“Star Trek: The Original Series,” Reid hissed, struggling to keep his voice down. “Which was the beginning of a franchise that has now lasted over fifty years, spanning nine television series, thirteen films and assorted shorts, video games and novels.”

“Ok Mr. Spock,” Emily laughed, “Thank you for your brain.”

“Spock’s Brain is actually one of the best episodes in the Original Series,” he replied, JJ couldn’t tell if he had made a joke or was simply spouting another fact. 

As trivia wrapped up, and the scores were being tallied, the bar roared back to life, with music booming and the attendees milling about near the bar, back at the darts and grouping around the tables.

She found herself chatting with Hotch and Penelope, about some question they were unsure about, but her eyes were fixed on Emily and Derek. Derek had a hand in the small of Emily’s back, guiding her past the crowd near the bar. 

JJ wondered if there was really something more there, despite Penelope’s encouragement of her crush on Emily. Maybe she was already into Derek? He was very affectionate with all of his friends, especially Penelope, so maybe it was nothing. But still, Emily seemed to be reciprocating. 

But the hand didn’t leave, it held her close, almost protectively, something a boyfriend would do. 

JJ turned away, pushing the thoughts away and slamming the last of her third beer, scanning for where Spencer had run off to after the game wrapped up. He was seated with two other people at a table near the back, talking excitedly at them while they looked at him with rapt attention. Out of curiosity, she wandered over.

Maybe she can hang out with Spence as she banished the strange feelings of jealousy burning in her chest.  

“Return to tomorrow?” the girl asked Spencer, leaning over the table in excitement.  

“Return to tomorrow, season two, production number fifty-one,” Reid replied, “An alien named Sargon takes over Kirk’s body while two others take over Spock and Dr. Mulhall.”

JJ frowned, she had no idea what he was talking about, but recognized that it seemed like the plot of an episode of Star Trek.

“Alien races appearing?”

“Trick question, a race is never identified. Sargon is a disembodied mind?”

“Dr. McCoy quote?”

He looked stumped for a moment. 

“Five, four, three, two-”

“I will not peddle flesh, I’m a physician!” He concludes enthusiastically. 

This all appeared to be an extension of his trivia game. JJ was happy that he was making friends, despite him worrying that he wouldn’t fit in at a bar, he seemed to have found his people. 

JJ gave him an affectionate pat on his shoulder before passing, on her way to the dart board. With Reid occupied, Derek and Emily flirting at the bar and Hotch and Penelope hitting it off, JJ decided to show some random boys up.

It would make her feel better.

There was a pair already at the board, tossing the darts fairly inaccurately. JJ asked if she could join, batting her eyelashes in a way she knew would grab their attention quickly. 

They immediately welcomed her in, handing her some darts. She hit the nineteen, twenty and dead centre in quick succession. The rush of the game kept away her earlier feelings of jealousy, centering her in the moment and her goal.

The boys were floored. JJ was good at darts. 

She played three rounds, slamming them each time easily. Amateurs. They were drunk, aggressive with their throwing, all force no finesse. Typical men.

After the third round, they left for the bar, offering to grab her a drink to celebrate her win, she followed close by, knowing better than to leave a drink unattended, but also not passing up the opportunity to drink for free when it was a silly boy paying. 

Maybe she should rebound after her break up and sleep with a random man. She looked at the man in front of her, he was tall, with dark hair and hazel eyes, wearing a tight fitting white shirt. His companion had sandy brown hair and dark eyes, but neither of them were stirring anything in JJ’s heart. Both were objectively attractive, but neither were the beautiful brunette that lived across the hall. 

JJ accepted her drink graciously, knowing she had to fill another few minutes of small talk before it was appropriate for her to rejoin her friends. 

The one boy was telling her about darts, in detail, despite the fact that she had informed him that she did know how to play, and had just beat him at the game. 

“Can I steal JJ from you guys for a sec?” She felt a hand on her bicep and Emily’s sweet voice in her ear.

JJ turned and the taller girl was next to her, her hand resting lightly on her bare arm, feeling electricity where their skin touched. 

“Uh, yeah,” the brown haired boy said, JJ didn’t remember his name, “Of course.”

JJ smiled apologetically before allowing herself to be led away.

“Thought you could use an out,” Emily whispered in her ear, “You looked bored.”

“Thank you,” JJ replied. “I was.”

They stopped further down the bar, standing close, with Emily looking down at her, their hips brushing each other. JJ could smell her perfume over the ambient smell of alcohol, bar food and the old building. 

“Men,” Emily laughed, “Am I right?”

They laughed. JJ wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but she thought she got the gist. JJ gulped down a sip of her drink, a vodka soda that the boy had chosen for her. 

“Speaking of, are you and Derek, uh,” JJ asked, nervously, “A thing?”

Emily’s eyes widened, and her lips tugged into a smile, she began to laugh. 

“Derek Morgan?” She guffawed, “Absolutely not, that boy is like my brother. Oh my god, JJ you thought we were together?”

JJ felt herself sigh a breath of relief, hoping that it was not visible on her face.

“I just saw how he was at the bar,” JJ explained, “I just assumed.”

“Oh that,” Emily smiled, “I asked him to basically pretend to be my boyfriend, a beard if you will. Keeps guys hands from wandering.”

JJ frowned, that she could empathize with. 

“But no, we’re very much just friends.”

JJ looked over to their table: Derek, Hotch and Penelope were currently playing a game that seemed to consist of tossing coins into Reid’s empty soda can. 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, both girls listened to the music, standing closely, closer than they needed to. 

Emily ordered them another round, and by that point JJ had given up protesting, realizing that this is just what Emily did. 

Grabbing their drinks, Emily handed JJ’s to her. They smiled and raised their glasses in cheers. 

“To new and old friends,” Emily said, “and to us winning at trivia!”

“I can drink to that!” 

Both accidentally raised their arms too enthusiastically, their glasses crashed together. Emily’s grip slipped and the glass went tumbling out of her hand, right onto JJ. She was suddenly damp and sticky, the liquid soaking through JJ’s thin shirt. 

“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shit,” JJ gasped, putting her own drink down onto the bar and stepping back. “It’s ok, it was both of our faults.” 

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Emily said, with a hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar. As an afterthought, Emily grabbed JJ’s drink and carried it with them.

A few people gave her concerned glances, one patron offering her a small napkin that did basically nothing. JJ wasn’t mad, it was fully an accident, but now she was just desperate to dry off. 

Now, JJ was acutely aware of Emily’s hand on her lower back. Warm and firm, it guided her into the bathroom. 

As soon as the door shut, the silence made JJ’s ears ring. Emily had turned to the paper towel dispenser, yanking probably four feet of it off and bunching it up before handing it to JJ.

It was a small bathroom basically just the room, one sink and no hand dryer, much to JJ’s sadness.

JJ hoisted herself up onto the counter, taking the paper towel from Emily, patting her shirt hopelessly. The alcohol soaking into the cotton and leaving the shirt a noticeably darker blue. JJ sighed. 

“I’m such a klutz,” Emily said apologetically. “My mom always was on my case for it.”

“It’s not your fault, Em,” JJ said, “it was an accident.”

Emily grabbed more paper towels, moving closer and helping her, patting on the shirt, over her stomach. 

JJ held her breath, realizing that Emily was so close. JJ could look up, see Emily’s face, looking concentrated, with her perfect red lips right there. Her strong hands were carefully dabbing at her shirt, fussing over JJ in a way that made her heart skip a beat. Emily’s collarbones led down to her chest, visible with her low cut chest. JJ felt herself blush, looking up to the ceiling, feeling embarrassed at these thoughts. 

JJ’s top hadn’t changed much, besides it feeling a bit less damp, it still showed the liquid clear as day. 

“This is doing just about nothing,” JJ sighed, clearing her throat. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s getting late anyways.”

“Nonsense,” Emily said. “You can wear this.”

JJ’s jaw dropped as Emily shrugged her plaid shirt off her shoulders, revealing her tank top underneath and handed it to her. JJ took it, dumbly, closing her mouth but saying nothing. 

Emily turned around, clicking the lock on the door, and leaning her shoulder against it, just in case. She took a sip out of JJ’s glass, casually, as if JJ was not about to take her shirt off behind her. 

Emily’s back was to her, but JJ sat, frozen, holding this new shirt in her hand. JJ pulled her wet shirt off, very aware of being naked in front of Emily. Well, shirtless, with her white bra visible, but still feeling incredibly naked. 

She quickly buttoned up the plaid shirt, it was oversized and a warm grey with hints of green and navy, feeling very incredibly soft. 

Warm and dry, JJ felt the shirt envelop her in what felt like a hug. A hug from Emily. 

JJ hopped off the counter and smoothed out her new shirt, Emily’s shirt. JJ folded up her wet shirt and held it in her left hand. The other girl turned and looked JJ up and down, with an unreadable expression on her face. 

“You look good,” Emily commented. 

“Thank you,” JJ managed. 

They stared at each other, for a moment, the room filling with a tension that made her shiver. The music thumped from the other room, but JJ’s heartbeat was deafening. She had accidentally stripped a layer off of Emily, and desperately wanted to take more off of her. Emily’s black tank was riding up, revealing a small strip of her stomach above her high waisted jeans. Emily’s face was flushed from the alcohol, her pale skin becoming pink on her cheeks and nose. JJ thought back to that morning when she had caught Emily in her PJs, of what she knew was under her shirt. This too hugged her curves, revealing hints about what lay beneath. 

“We better get back,” JJ found herself whispering. 

The bathroom was small, so the two of them were packed together in the tiny space. Emily suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them, reaching her hands out towards JJ. 

JJ’s heart raced, unsure what to expect. Was Emily going to kiss her? No. Why would she? Oh my god what if she was? 

Emily’s hand carefully fixed her collar, tugging on it slightly. 

“There,” Emily whispered, “you’re perfect.”  

JJ closed her eyes at the feeling of Emily’s hands on her. Sighing slightly. 

She chastised herself for being silly. Emily was just fixing her collar. Being a good friend. 

“Let’s get back,” JJ said. 

“If we have to,” Emily replied. JJ tried not to read into that too much.  

They returned to their table, squeezing back in tightly with their overcrowded group of friends. They were in a heated debate about the Zodiac killer. Neither girl knew how the conversation got there, but Emily immediately joined the conversation. 

After a few minutes, and after quite a few sly looks from Penelope, the MC tapped on the mic, gaining the audience's attention. 

“We officially have a winner!” Tara announced, “With 36 points, it’s Counter Intelligence!”

Their table erupted in cheers. They had won! There were a flurry of high fives, hugs and fist bumps in their celebration. 

Tara, the MC came over to their table to congratulate them. She told them that they had beat out the second place by one point. 

“Impressive work everyone,” Tara said, “that’s close to a high score, and these were hard questions.”

“We have a great team,” Penelope said with a grin. 

“I can tell,” Tara replied. “Are you all going to come back next week? It’s Halloween themed!”

They looked at each other, then nodded at her. It was a plan. 

“See you then!” Tara said. 

She gave them their prizes, which were mugs with the bars logo printed in white on the green mugs. She would treasure it. 

JJ finds herself yawning, catching the eye of Emily, who said: “we better get JJ to bed, looks like she’s fading.”

Please, JJ thought sleepily, resting her drunk head on her hand, take me to bed.

Sitting down, JJ’s five or so drinks had hit her hard, and she dreaded standing up and risking stumbling. She was drunk. JJ wasn’t a light weight, but over their time at the bar, she had gotten quite a bit of alcohol into her system. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” JJ could feel Penelope grab her arm and hoist her up. JJ leaned on her, feeling a warm affection for her friend in the moment. 

Together, they walked home in the cold night air. Laughing, chatting and walking together amicably, all holding their prizes in hand. JJ leaned into Penelope’s side, feeling warm despite the chill of the air. Something felt incredibly right about that moment, those people. 

She didn’t want it to end. 

They went their separate ways from Hotch once they got to campus, bidding him farewell, not before Penelope added him to a group chat titled “The Team 🕺” in reference to their trivia playing. Hotch promised he’d join them all again next week. 

Once they climbed the stairs to their floor, Reid continued up to his room and the four of them found themselves trying to quietly return to their rooms without getting caught by the RA. 

Despite being served for the entire night, if they got caught drinking underage they would get in a lot of shit, especially Derek and JJ on their athletic scholarships. 

Muffled whispers and giggling filled the air as they walked through the common room.

Derek hugged them all goodbye—he seemed to be a hugger JJ surmised—and went to his room down the hall. 

“Oh!” JJ said, spinning to face Emily in the hall. Penelope had already entered their dorm, with the door closing behind her. “I can give your shirt back tomorrow! I can… er… wash it for you. It probably smells like beer now.”

Emily gazed at her, from over her shoulder as she unlocked her door, looking JJ up and down.

“Keep it,” she said. “It looks good on you.”

JJ would swear she saw Emily wink at her, but couldn’t be sure. 

Emily disappeared into her dorm room, and JJ went into hers. 

She slept with the shirt folded neatly next to her pillow, the smell of Emily’s perfume filling her senses as she dreamt. 

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 10

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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TW: non-con, although nothing explicit

[Hermione]

Hermione leans on the bar table for support, one hand clutching her drink and the other rubbing at her temple. The room is spinning, and she's dizzy, nauseous, and unable to focus her eyes on anything.

With one blinding exception, of course. In her peripheral vision, she can see the security guard dragging Ron Weasley from the venue, his arms flailing as he stumbles alongside. Against all odds, his vibrant red hair always draws her attention, even when it's entirely inappropriate.

"Can you believe him?" growls Cormac, massaging his eye. "Bartender, ice."

The bartender abruptly stops wiping down the table to stare back at Cormac, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "Bartender?"

"Yeah. Ice."

Hermione takes a long swig through her straw and glances between Cormac and the bartender, who seem to be sizing each other up.

The bartender flashes her name card at Cormac and offers a smile that looks more fake than genuine. "Sure, you can have some ice," she says sweetly. "But for next time, my name is Rosmerta."

Rosmerta turns away from the bar, muttering something about rude tourists. Hermione makes a mental note to leave her a good tip at the end of the night.

Once Rosmerta's out of earshot, Cormac turns to Hermione. "Why is everyone being so rude to me today? First your ex-boyfriend, now that old broad?"

His comment, and more specifically, the way he says it feels slimy to Hermione, as if his 'woe is me' attitude is nothing more than an effort to rack up pity points.

"Aww, you're almost done with your drink," he says, right as Rosmerta returns with a pack of ice. He snatches the ice from her hands and demands, "Another for the lady."

Hermione's cheeks heat up in embarrassment. No 'thank you' for the ice, no 'please' for the drink — what does she see in this guy? Other than the fact that he's conveniently interested in her, and he's not Ron, of course. Hermione mouths an apology to Rosmerta when the bartender saunters off to refill Hermione's glass.

"Rosmerta has been lovely to us. She's not an old broad," says Hermione to Cormac, who's now pressing the packet of ice to his bruised eye. "And he's not my ex-boyfriend."

Cormac chuckles. "It sure looks like something happened between you and ginger. By the way you dumped ice water on him, you'd think he cheated on you or something."

Hermione stiffens at the reminder of Lavender's mischievous look as she buttoned her blouse in the hallway, followed by the nonchalant way Ron waltzed up to her just now, as if nothing had happened between them. She covers up her shaky hand with another drawn-out sip of her strong drink, forcing down the bitter taste with a grimace.

"I'm glad you never dated the ginger because you can do so much better. Like me, for instance." Cormac motions to himself, a smug smile on his face.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione puts the straw back to her lips — she really should have asked Rosmerta to hold the straw, but thanks to Cormac, they were already the most demanding couple at the bar, and she didn't want to put any more stress on the poor woman.

She glances over to her companion. So far he's been quite rude — embarrassingly so — and has only talked about himself. He spotted her on the dance floor a short while before and seemed kind enough, so she'd agreed to get a drink with him. She hadn't let herself get a good look at him earlier, so her eyes trace over Cormac's body now, his biceps bulging from his too-tight polo, his chiseled jawline. Underneath the bruise, his eyes are nice. They're not impossibly blue, like tropical seas she can get lost in, but they're not bad.

He's actually quite good-looking, but he'd be even easier on the eyes if he didn't know it. Pompousness is not a trait Hermione looks for in a man.

But she's not looking for anything serious with Cormac, so maybe she can turn the other cheek to some of his more unpleasant qualities. A bit more alcohol might help. She's just here to have fun, after all. Cormac seems to be an appropriate option for that.

As if reading her mind, Cormac leans over to her and whispers, "What do you say? Want to get out of here?"

It's the memory of Lavender fastening her blouse, her smug 'Give him a chance to get dressed first' that gives her response all the permission needed to slip from her lips.

"I guess."

"I'll take that as a yes," says Cormac, rising to his feet and tugging at Hermione's arm.

She stumbles out of her chair, somewhat surprised by his constricting grip on her wrist. It almost cuts off her circulation and would feel unnecessary in any other circumstance.

But she also stood up too quickly and is momentarily flustered and dizzy, so maybe she has his support to thank for not falling down.

"Oh my god, I'm drunk, aren't I?"

Cormac scoffs, sliding his arm around her waist to support her. His hand lands a little too low on her hips for comfort. It doesn't feel anything like Ron's did — caring, gentle, and responsive to communication. Yet, she's hesitant to say anything and bring his attention to what lies beneath his fingers, just in case his hand placement isn't intentional. She might ruin something innocent. That, or he might read too much into her taking notice. She's unsure which is more likely.

"You seem perfectly in control to me," says Cormac.

His softly-spoken comment flushes out some of her self-consciousness — before, she feared that she looked sloppy, messy, unattractive. But it also irritates her, invalidating her difficulty standing and walking in a straight line without the support of his body up against hers. Plus, the fact that it's nearly a whisper, and she can barely hear him suggests that she's not the one he's trying to convince.

Maybe she's reading too much into everything, and it's just the alcohol talking.

They continue across the dance floor and out the doors, his thick hand steady on her hip. When they reach the stairs and the music quiets down, he picks up the conversation again.

"For real. What did that boy do? You said he lied to you?"

Right. Hermione glances at Cormac, who's smirking at her, and decides he doesn't need to know the details.

"Oh, that? It was nothing."

"Nothing gets a drink in the face?" laughs Cormac. "Well, lucky for me, I like them a little feisty."

His words immediately make Hermione uncomfortable. He likes them feisty? How many feisty notches are there on Cormac's bedpost? Is she sensing an attraction to a woman who fights back? Her head spins, and again, she has to remind herself that it's probably just the alcohol talking.

Still, something feels off.

When they make it to the top of the stairs, Hermione places some reluctant trust in her instincts and uses the flat ground as an opportunity to pull away from Cormac. In doing so, she accidentally slides her backside against his hand. As predicted, he interprets her movement incorrectly.

"I see what you're doing, Hermione," he growls. With a hum of appreciation, his fingers clench down through the fabric of her skirt and firmly grip her bum. He turns his body toward her and presses her back to the wall.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak up, but she doesn't know what to communicate. She's not sure if she wants him to stop or if she just wants assurance that he would if she told him to, but her racing mind has no clue how to phrase that request without ruining the possibility of a casual, consensual encounter.

He'd probably prefer the benefit of the doubt, as most men have come to expect it, but then there's the problem that he's nearly twice her height, his hands are as big as her face, and he likes them feisty, which might cause him to interpret dissent as a flirt or a challenge.

Hermione internally chastises herself for wasting time overthinking everything, again, because she instinctively knows that the longer she's quiet, the more her silence will sound like permission. It only takes a few seconds for her to run out of time to decide where she even falls on the spectrum between yes and no before his lips crash roughly into hers.

He presses his hips against her, and she can feel his erection digging into her leg. It's prepped and ready, and she's anything but.

He runs his tongue across her lips, and his grumble of pleasure reverberates into her throat. It takes effort, but she turns her head to the side. As she feared, he interprets this as an invitation to tug at the soft flesh of her neck with his teeth and slide his free hand up her dress until it cups her breast.

"Cormac—"

"Couldn't even wait until you got to my room, could you?" he muses, his lips dragging hungrily along her shoulder. "I could tell you wanted me, but damn."

A storm of anger boils up inside of her — his supposed confidence in feelings she herself has yet to identify is beyond invasive.

She can't get her hand between them for leverage. "Cormac, please—"

"You're welcome," he chuckles back, completely misinterpreting her meaning. Again.

His pinned hand tugs at the fabric of her dress, inching it up and over the curve of her bum and exposing her lacy knickers. "Ahh, you came prepared to fuck, didn't you?"

Another burst of anger and the following rush of adrenaline gives Hermione just enough strength to push him off of her, even if it's only for a second. "Cormac, please get off me."

He removes his mouth from her neck and narrows his eyes at her. "What?"

"I don't want to do this."

He doesn't move. "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," says Hermione, her tone steady and firm.

"You agreed to leave the bar with me. What do you think I meant by that?" Cormac's face is reddening, and Hermione's palms respond by breaking out in a sweat. "Fucking tease."

"Hermione!"

A familiar voice — one that typically irritates her to her core — draws Cormac's attention away from Hermione for a split second, long enough to take a breath.

"We're busy here," he quips but pauses when he sees Lavender Brown, clad in a tight pink skirt and sparkly kitten heels. "Oh, hello there—"

"I can see that," says Lavender, narrowing her eyes at Hermione, who sends her a pleading glance. "But I have to steal Hermione away. It's an emergency."

Hermione's shoulders instantly relax — the irony of this being Lavender's second "emergency" excuse of the day isn't lost on her.

"It's not the best time," says Cormac. "But you're welcome to join us."

"Tempting. What's your room number?" she asks, batting her eyelashes while simultaneously reaching for Hermione's arm. "Maybe we'll meet you there in a bit."

Cormac grins as Hermione slips out from between his body and the wall. "I'm in room 407. I'll be waiting."

"Perfect! See you soon," says Lavender, looping Hermione's arm over her shoulder and turning her down the hall again.

Hermione can hear Cormac's content chuckles as they round the corner. As soon as they're out of his sight, she slips from Lavender's arm, instantly annoyed by her again.

"Why did you do that?" She tries to hide her irritation, but it escapes into her tone.

Lavender raises her eyebrows. "Um, you're welcome."

A tingle of guilt almost causes Hermione to apologize, but the uncomfortable notion of owing Lavender stops her. "I didn't need you to swoop in and save me. I had it under control."

Lavender scowls at her. "Well, from my perspective, it looked like he was going to take advantage of you right there in that hallway, so my instincts kicked in. Next time, I just won't bother."

They slow to a stop at room 210, and Lavender whips out her room key. "You're welcome to come in — I didn't think you'd want him to know where your room was. Especially since it's on the same floor as his."

The floodgates holding back Hemione's guilt break, and she's suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation for the girl holding open the door. She smiles sheepishly at Lavender as she passes her and enters the room.

"Thank you, Lavender. I'm… I'm sorry."

Lavender follows her in and lets the door shut behind her. "It's fine. I know we don't exactly get along, but I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

"I would." This, Hermione is sure of. At least, she thinks she is. If not, she should self-reflect, but that's an ordeal for sobriety.

"I'll make tea," says Lavender.

Hermione takes a seat at the kitchen bar, and silence fills the room. Her head collapses into her hands, and she gets lost in her thoughts while the water boils.

Tonight could have been an utter disaster.

Although thankful for Lavender's intervention — she shouldn't have left the bar with Cormac in the first place — there's a part of her that blames Lavender for it all. It was Hermione's jealousy that drove her to cling to the first guy to show interest tonight. She's hesitant to thank Lavender for fixing a problem she created in the first place.

The tea kettle whistles and jolts Hermione away from her thoughts.

Lavender pours her a cup and slides it over to Hermione, along with a bottle of aspirin.

"That will help you sober up."

"Thanks," grumbles Hermione.

Then Lavender takes a seat next to Hermione and says something that changes everything.

"I didn't have sex with Ron earlier today."

Hermione freezes, her mind overwhelmed with a tidal wave of rioting thoughts that can somehow be stripped down to one single word.

"What?"

Lavender sips her tea, her hand trembling. From nerves? Jealousy? Anger? Hermione doesn't know.

"When I came out of Ron's room and buttoned up my blouse, I was pretending." She glances away as she says it, her cheeks reddening under a blanket of foundation.

Hermione sighs, doing her best to steady her breath as to not give away the sheer amount of emotions Lavender just ignited. "Why… why did you do that?"

Lavender shrugs. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. I went to his room with the intention of flirting with him. We'd just slept together a few days ago, and I thought it would be the same. It wasn't the same."

Hermione's sudden envy doesn't make sense, and she knows that; she had no claim to Ron a few days ago. She has no claim to him now, really, so her relief that they didn't sleep together today has no bearing.

So is the fact that she just poured water over him and paraded around another bloke to 'get back at him' for something he never did. Hermione's stomach bubbles with nausea, and not from the alcohol.

"What happened in his room?" Hermione asks, aiming for a neutral tone.

Lavender sends her a sideways glance before answering, and according to her expression, Hermione's casual questions aren't fooling her at all.

"I saw you two at the bar, and I got jealous. I want him back so badly, and I thought this week in Vegas would finally make it happen. But his eyes have been on you since day one, and I don't understand. You and I are so different."

Different we are, thinks Hermione as she pulls another sip of tea to drown out her sudden self-consciousness.

"I can tell he's interested in you. He's expressed interest in other girls since we've broken up, but they always looked like me, and I would just pretend that was the reason he was looking. I can't do that with you."

Lavender's not straight-up insulting Hermione, but it feels that way, so her defenses start to rise. All Hermione can hear is, 'How can Ron be interested in someone like you?'

She's still avoiding Hermione's eye contact when she continues, "I got so jealous and insecure, and thought, 'why would Ron be interested in me, when he could have someone like Hermione?' Someone smart, successful, someone who doesn't need male attention to feel good about herself."

Hermione nearly drops her tea. She was way off the mark.

"I gave it one last-ditch effort. I followed him to his room, tried to flirt, and he rejected me. It confirmed he was interested in someone else, and he didn't have to tell me who. So when I saw you in the hallway, my instinct was to try and sabotage it."

Lavender finally looks at Hermione, and there are tears glistening in her eyes. Clearly, she feels awful.

She's not the only one.

"When I saw that guy basically forcing himself on you, I felt awful. I knew something bad must have gone down between you and Ron."

Hermione's eyes sting with tears, and Lavender notices. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Lavender smiles and wipes away the remaining tears from her eyes. "Okay, get out."

"What?" says Hermione, affronted, but then looks to see that Lavender's still grinning.

"You seem sober enough now, and we're still not friends. But at least you know that… it's not about you," she laughs, and finally making sense of Lavender's dry humor, Hermione can't help but laugh back.

"Men," says Hermione, and it's all she needs to say for Lavender to snort.

"Are the worst," she continues. "But Ron's a good one. Go find him at the bar. He's probably looking for you."

"About that," says Hermione, and Lavender's eyes narrow in curiosity. "He got kicked out. I splashed water on him, and then he punched Cormac."

Her eyes widen. "Wow."

"Yeah," says Hermione, swirling her tea.

"So he's probably wallowing in his room," she grumbles. "I'd tell you to go there, but seeing as he's my ex-boyfriend and I still want him, it's a conflict of interest."

Hermione gets to her feet. "Then I'll go somewhere else."

"And I don't want to know."

Hermione sends a thankful smile Lavender's way and turns toward the door.

"Lavender?"

"Yeah?"

"I misjudged you. I'm sorry."

Lavender contemplates her for a moment, then nods. "I misjudged you too."

It's enough closure for the pair to part peacefully — no admissions of friendship, but clarity on where they stand. And it's more than Hermione can hope for.

Lavender turns away to wipe a tear, and Hermione smiles again as she passes through the door and into the hall. The pit in her stomach has morphed into something else entirely — empathy, gratitude, and a small nugget of guilt.

As for right now, she only has one pressing matter on her to-do list.

[hoodwinkd1]

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 14

Ch 11-13 here. Ch 15 here.

Chapter 14: you can hear it in the silence

TW for panic attacks, marked at the beginning and end with “XXX”.

Carina Archeron raised one perfect brow as she surveyed the room. Eris held back a sigh at her dramatic entrance and ridiculously poised expression, the entirety of her presence meant to intimidate his guests.

She returned his gaze after a moment with a falsely saccharine smile. “My pleasure.”

Eris waved a hand, gesturing the musicians to start the music back up. He watched as Carina led her mate, a palace guard turned Illyrian ambassador named Bryce, across the floor until they stood a few feet apart.

The eyes of the crowd remained glued to the four of them, but luckily Eris could now place a sound bubble around their little group. “Did you run out of ways to steal attention in the Night Court? Was that entrance some sort of temper tantrum?”

Bryce snorted as Carina let out a low hum. “Maybe. But more importantly, I heard through the grapevine that you have someone to introduce to me.” Eris felt Rhia straighten her posture as the other female turned to face her.

“That would be a prenaturally speedy grapevine,” Eris mused. “Considering we only met several minutes ago.”

Carina ignored him. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said sweetly, extending a hand. “You look more than divine tonight; I can’t wait to find out how much better you are than this prick.”

Rhia accepted it gracefully. “Rhiannon Harmony. I’m glad I’m finally able to put a face to the name?”

Carina giggled. “Finally? I thought this..situation was only a few minutes old?” Her tone made it quite clear that she knew the actual timeline of their relationship, but enjoyed playing all nonetheless.

“Forget him,” Rhia tsked. “You’re somewhat of a celebrity, even in my small town.”

Eris cut in. “Don’t even think about flattering yourself, Carina. We only tolerate your presence because of your parents’ heroic efforts.”

“Rude!” Carina gasped. She poked Bryce’s shoulder. “Do something, defend my honor or whatnot.”

Bryce shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m only with you for your generational wealth.”

Rhia laughed at that, a delightful sound that immediately brought a smile to Eris’ face. Damn him, it was nearly impossible to act as anything but a fool in love next to this female, this goddess in gold. Bryce caught his eye with a sympathetic look, surprisingly fraternal for a male that never seemed to like him all that much.

“If you’ll excuse us, I have political allies to threaten and alcohol to drink,” Carina drawled. She leaned in to kiss Rhia’s cheek, ignoring or delighting in the additional attention the action brought on from the crowd. “I’m sure we’ll have the chance to get to know each other better in a less stressful situation.”

“I’d like that,” Rhia replied with a smile.

She turned to face Eris as the other couple disappeared into the crowd, and he took the opportunity to scan her face for some sort of reaction.

“I find it hard to imagine how you two even became friends,” she teased. “I don’t know if most rooms are large enough to hold both of your egos and snark.”

Eris sighed and pulled her back towards him. “The two of you are a terrible combination for my sanity. I would promise she’s less...everything one-on-one, but she’s basically always like that.”

Rhia pouted. “Poor, sensitive High Lord. I should have guessed you’d find a way to complain about having friends.”

He let out a groan, holding back some choice words about how annoying all his friends tended to be. She looked far too perfect in his arms, in his palace, in this moment to think about anyone else. “I’m considering ending all of my friendships so I can focus only on you instead. Speaking of, will Sofi mind if I don’t give you back tonight.”

“We’ve fulfilled all of her romantic fantasies tonight.” She shot him a wink and Eris almost died. “She can live without me for one night.”

“An entire night?” he asked tentatively, hoping he hadn’t misconstrued her demeanor.

They had somehow migrated to the outer edge of the dancing area, further from the noise of the orchestra. Rhia dropped one of his hands to snatch a glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray.

He watched her take a sip. “Let’s think about this,” she mused. “I could go back to my small, lonely house tonight. Or, I could demand a private tour of the palace and spend the night in the largest, most lavish suite in the entire Court.”

Eris’ mouth suddenly felt a bit dry. “My mother has the largest suite, and I’m not sure you could beat her in a fight for it.” He attempted a sarcastic tone, but his words sounded breathlessly hopeful instead.”

Rhia took another sip. “The second-largest suite, then?”

“Wonderful choice. And I’ve heard that the resident is wonderful, too.” He scanned the room for Gerwin, knowing that the male could help them stage a subtle exit.

---

Rhia shoved her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst. Gerwin had only needed one sentence from Eris to somehow cause a drunken confrontation between two ex-lovers in the front of the room, allowing the two of them to dart out a secret passageway in the back.

Eris strode ahead, never allowing his grip on her hand to falter. He tossed her a smug look over one shoulder, and Rhia was certain no one had ever looked that attractive before.

“I feel like an adolescent again,” he admitted. “I haven’t used this passageway in over a century.”

Rhia scrunched her nose. “Did you have a habit of sneaking females out of parties and into your bedroom?”

Eris snorted. “More like myself. I hate talking to people.”

Her cheeks hurt from grinning at that statement. Something about being his exception, the only new person he had befriended in far too long, warmed her heart. And if she was honest with herself, warmed some other areas of her body too.

“Here we are,” Eris announced, placing one hand on the stone wall. Rhia couldn’t identify a door or any special markings, but the wall caved open at his magic touch. She followed him into a hallway, smaller and cozier than the one she’d entered the ballroom from.

Her last time here had been under duress, and she’d barely noticed any of her surroundings. This time was different. Instead of nerves at their changing relationship or anticipation of what might come next, Rhia felt peace and ease.

The feeling only grew when Eris led her through one of the doorways, pausing just past the threshold. Everything, every piece of artwork and furniture, radiated comfort to her. She dropped his hand and stepped further into the space, taking in every last detail of the gorgeous sitting room. Someone had gotten the blood stains out of the fabric, she noted, well enough that she couldn’t smell the metallic tang.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked softly, running one finger down her neck to the top of her dress.

She shivered automatically, and he pulled his hand away immediately. “Sorry, I should have asked-”

“Shut up.” Rhia spun around and grabbed his chin, pulling his face down so she could silence him with a kiss. She shivered again at the taste of his tongue, and this time, Eris couldn’t possibly misinterpret the motion. He ran the same finger down her back again, while the other hand cupped her cheek. Both of their hearts raced in tandem.

He let out a small gasp when she nipped his bottom lip. Eris responded by tilting her face up and pressing light kisses down her jaw. Rhia slid her grip down to his shoulders and pulled him towards her.

“Is this alright?” he whispered against the skin of her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as she felt his tongue dart out to taste her skin. They hadn’t explored each other beyond this point, with eager kisses and greedy hands over clothing, but the perfection of the evening spurred Rhia on. Maybe, just once, her body and mind could cooperate long enough for--

“Fuck.” She cursed as Eris’ mouth reached the top of her dress, the upper swell of her cleavage erupting in goosebumps.

He raised his head, reaching one hand up to brush her cheek again. “One word, one breath from you, and I’lll--”

She groaned in impatience. “Yes, yes, you’ll stop and we’ll have a lovely evening of riveting conversation.” Stepping away from him took all of her strength, but Rhia pulled herself out of his embrace and began walking backwards towards the door that led to his bedchamber. “But until then, promise that you’ll treat me normally. That we can try and see what happens, rather than treading so delicately we may never see progress.”

The words came out quiet and fierce. She hadn’t even fully realized it herself, how much she needed this, wanted this opportunity to push them both one step closer to intimacy. Even if that step was miniscule and they never took another step after it, Rhia would find comfort in knowing her own limits.

Most importantly, he looked entirely too irresistible tonight, entirely too fuckable, to give up now.

“I can do that.” Eris approached her slowly, not cautiously, but with predatory intent. His eyes took in her disheveled appearance, his mouth forming a broad grin at his own handiwork. He popped open the top button of his tunic.

Rhia frowned. “Stop that.” When he froze in place, she rolled her eyes. “Not everything. Just that.” She pointed at his fingers, locked around the next button. “I want to do it.”

He was on her in an instant, pressing her against the side of the doorway as he kissed her again, tongue sliding in her mouth immediately. Rhia couldn’t stop giggling as her fingers replaced his, gracelessly yanking open the row of golden knobs until she could finally run her hands down his abdomen. They shared a groan at the physical contact, the warmth of two bodies more than ready for each other.

Rhia spun in his arms, placing one of her hands against the wood frame, the other grabbing his and placing it on the back of her dress.

“Untie me,” she demanded.

Eris pressed a light kiss to the top of her spine. “Yes ma’am.”

Rhia almost cheered when her dress hit the ground and she turned back around to face him, clad only in a short, sleeveless slip. He held her hand as they stepped out of their clothing, his shirt similarly discarded.

“Bed?” Rhia inspected the linens with delight; if nothing else, those sheets would be heavenly to sleep on. She’d rather feel them against her naked body as Eris worshipped her body, though.

They shared one more heated, lingering kiss at the foot of the bed, before Eris pulled her down with him onto the duvet. Her heart sped up as her back hit the softness.

(XXX - begin TW)

And kept speeding up as he pulled her into another embrace.

And kept speeding up until her breath came out in shallow pants.

Eris sat up immediately, scooting backwards to create space between them.

“Rhia.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything as she lay there, unmoving except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You’re safe. You’re okay. What should I do?”

She barely heard him. Her vision had started to swim, a sure sign of oxygen deprivation setting in after a full minute of shallow breaths. She slammed her eyes shut and struggled to regain control of her breathing, aiming for deep exhales and slow inhales. Eris somehow caught on to her initial, pathetic attempts and began breathing with her, exaggerating the sound.

Seconds, minutes, or hours later, Rhia opened her eyes and thankfully didn’t see any black spots. She remained silent, quietly taking inventory of her emotions, as she reopened her senses by identifying things she could see, hear, and feel.

The entire time, Eris waited. He also lay on his back, looking straight up at the ceiling and holding his breath steady as he waited for her to come back to her body.

“Okay.” Rhia let the word slip out of her mouth. It didn’t taste like a lie. “I’m okay.”

“Can I get you water? A blanket?” Eris turned his head to face her, but otherwise remained still.

She sat up, pressing her hands against the silk, feeling it slide between her fingers. “Both, I think.” She heard him stand up off the bed and leave the room, keeping her gaze locked on the pattern of the duvet. Were those whirls flowers or flames, or just abstract?

“Here.” Rhia glanced up and saw him standing a few feet away from her, holding a glass of water in his outstretched hand. She hated how much she needed that physical distance between them, and felt nauseous when she had to maneuver her hand around the glass to avoid touching his hand as she took it.

Fucking trauma.

XXX (end TW)

Eris still did not move closer. “I brought this too.” He showed her the long, heavy dressing gown draped over his opposite arm. The fabric would cover her body completely, both physically and visually. She also hated how relieved she was to cover herself up.

“Thank you.” The stiff words did nothing to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for all of it.” Rhia let out a humorless laugh. “You can say I told you so now.”

Eris’ jaw dropped, then tightened. “Rhia. That’s not, I wouldn’t even,” he sputtered, arms crossing his chest. “How can you say that?”

“Because you did tell me so,” she pointed out. “Or at the very least, suggested we should stop. It’s my fault, really, for pushing.” She tried, really tried, to keep her tone as light as her words, but self-doubt crept in nonetheless.

“Can I sit?” She nodded, and he joined her on the bed, careful to keep a safe distance. “You wanted to try. I wanted to give you anything and everything. No one’s at fault.”

Rhia groaned and grabbed a pillow to shove over her face. She was feeling much better, but unfortunately the ebbing panic left more room for frustration. “I was doing fine, everything was just fine, until…”

“Until?” Eris prompted her. “Was it something I did?”

“No,” she replied firmly. “No, I think it was the sheets. Or lying on the bed.” Rhia placed the pillow on her lap. She thought back to the moment before the fear set in, carefully parsing her mind without returning to the actual panic itself. “Something about hitting the bed with my back, definitely.”

“Ok. We won’t do that again.” Eris held his hands up, adding hastily, “not that we have to do anything again, of course, but in case we do find ourselves in a similar situation, then, we’ll try something else.”

Rhia threw the pillow at him. “Don’t go soft on me now. We will be trying again.” He caught the pillow and opened his mouth to reply. “And keep whatever lewd joke you’re about to make about going soft to yourself,” she snapped.

“A High Lord is better than ‘hard’ jokes,” he retorted. “How would you like the rest of the night to go?”

Something about the way he kept asking her questions helped ground her, forcing her to remain in the moment. Rhia considered his words, her options, and answered.

“I fear the night’s come to an end. I’m exhausted.”

Eris magicked a shirt and stood. “There’s a guest suite, then, right through-”

“No. I’d like to stay here.”

She could do that, at least. His bed was enormous and his scent was everywhere, reminding her of safety and comfort and protection. Rhia also had no desire to go to some guest suite, a room that probably held a manner of guests she didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about.

She watched him consider her words, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Obviously, I’m fine with that. How can we set that up properly?”

And so, they fell asleep together, in the same bed for the first time. There had to be a pillow barrier between them and one lantern lit in the corner to keep the room from fully succumbing into darkness, but they did it. Rhia liked that, having this small victory to look back on.

Right as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, she felt something come down the bond. Something shiny, something hopeful, something that told her they’d have endless tomorrows filled with countless small victories.

[obsessedwithbbandsuju]

No Strings Attached

Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were sprawled on the couch of the dressing room in a messy, uncoordinated tangle of limbs. Their bodies were pressed almost unnaturally close to each other, as if trying to meld into one being with all the desperation of burning lovers.

Pairing: Park Jungsoo/Son Taeyeon/Kim Heechul

Warnings: Explicit smut, threesome, two dicks & one body (y’all know where this goes), mentions of parental emotional neglect

___

oppa: a term used by a female to refer to a male, older than her, that she is close to

sshi: a Korean honorific used when the speaker is relatively unfamiliar with the object of their words, usually regardless of age

sunbaenim: a term used by a junior to refer to a senior in the industry

___

She waved goodbye to Yesung-oppa as he got into the van. He responded in kind, a smile flashing across his handsome face before the door slid shut and his manager stepped on the gas. The car pulled away from the driveway, and Taeyeon watched it become smaller and smaller as the distance between it and the building grew.

Minus Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa, the rest of the present members of Super Junior had all left. Taeyeon had a habit of leaving shooting locations late; fitting for her admittedly control freak tendencies, she wanted to make sure everything was in order and the staff were comfortable as they wrapped up the set. It was common for her to leave at least an hour after everyone else, almost to the point that she felt uncomfortable when anyone was left after her.

Now, where were Heechul-oppa and Leeteuk-oppa? The former wasn’t the type to stay later like this, and the latter, though often taking a bit more time to leave, didn’t usually stick around so long, either. The last time Taeyeon had seen them, they’d been getting their makeup cleaned off by their stylists, as Taeyeon had earlier. Maybe they’d already left?

As Taeyeon trudged through the halls, she took advantage of the quiet and time alone to reflect on the filming that had gone on today. It was definitely something she would look back on fondly in the near future – awkward, yes, having to play the titular devil of Super Junior’s song and pinning Yesung-oppa against the hood of a car while whispering in his ear, but she’d become closer to her senior for it. She liked Yesung-oppa; he was patient, funny, professional, and good-natured – the type of person that fit right into the chaotic mess that was Super Junior.

She passed by some of the staff, starting to pack up their equipment, and smiled at them, wishing them a good night. Retracing her steps back to her now-empty dressing room, as she’d earlier told her own stylist Sohee that she could get off early (since her sister, Dakyung, who lived in Japan, was getting married and she had to catch a flight), Taeyeon opened the door and froze. Blinked. Not quite surprised at what she saw, per se, but definitely surprised that it was happening here of all places.

Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were sprawled on the couch of the dressing room in a messy, uncoordinated tangle of limbs. Their bodies were pressed almost unnaturally close to each other, as if trying to meld into one being with all the desperation of burning lovers.

Because that was what they were. Lovers. Their clothes were strewn without rhyme and reason on the ground, expensive costumes scattered about the cold floor like they couldn’t possibly be of less consequence. Jungsoo-oppa was splayed on top of Heechul-oppa, the latter’s legs spread wide for the former, his head thrown back on the pillow in ecstasy and a cock drilling inside him, even as the two men’s gazes found her, still standing frozen at the doorway.

It took less than a second for a countless number of somethings to flash in Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa’s gazes – shock, mortification, shame, defiance, panic, and others that Taeyeon couldn’t identify or flickered too fast for her to comprehend. But glazed over it all, making their eyes glassy and their pupils dilate, was bliss, shining like a beacon in the two men’s eyes.

Bliss.

Bliss.

Heechul-oppa’s eyes slammed shut as he cried out, turning away from Taeyeon to bury his face in the crook between Jungsoo-oppa’s sweaty neck and shoulder. His entire body twitched and spasmed, and she didn’t need to see for herself to know that his insides were clenching around his lover’s cock. Riled by the other man’s orgasm, Jungsoo-oppa let out a sharp, choked moan, shuddering and seizing as the muscles of his pelvis visibly tensed to drive himself into the deepest point of his fellow member. Taeyeon didn’t need anyone to tell her what had happened then, either.

And she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the area between her legs tingle slightly at the sight.

As Jungsoo-oppa collapsed on top of Heechul-oppa, both men heaving as they caught their breath and turned identical stares full of an odd mixture of chagrin and hazy desire at her, she inhaled deeply, not quite certain what she was supposed to do in this situation.

“Taeyeon-sshi?” The voice of the director rang from around the corner. Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa tensed considerably, and Taeyeon practically saw their instinct to jump apart from each other and hide, but that would expose both of them to her eyes completely, and that, well – she could see why it was embarrassing and made them slow to act.

Fortunately for them, she wasn’t. She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, grimacing at the awkward realization that she was about to be alone with two naked men who happened to be two of her closest friends. It wasn’t like she was completely averse to it, because, if she was being honest with herself, she had become attracted to both of them, and she was almost certain that they had both become attracted to her, too. The little glances that flitted between them, the sparks that seemed to fly when their fingers accidentally brushed or their shoulders unintentionally bumped, the sudden and subtle awkwardness with which Jungsoo-oppa acted around her since last month, and the abrupt realization that Heechul-oppa had at some point two months ago begun staring at her with eyes a little too dark to be proper when looking at a friend – they all made words unnecessary.

But did she ever think she’d end up in this situation? No. Taeyeon wasn’t surprised at the fact in itself that Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were also a little more than friends. It was just a little bit less than obvious to her, really, and it surprised her sometimes, how not many other people seemed to see it. The air between them was absolutely charged with tension. The way that they looked at each other – like they were looking at a person whom they were confident as being completely, utterly on their side – that said much more than just simple friends.

No, she wasn’t surprised that they were having sex.

But she was surprised that the first time she’d received visual confirmation of her suspicion, it was taking place in her dressing room, the possibility of being walked in on far too likely for anyone’s taste. Maybe that was part of what got them off, but were they stupid? Didn’t they get the risk of doing this here?

She glared at them as she flicked the lock of the door dismissively with her pinky finger. They met her gaze defiantly, although the shame flashing in their eyes told her that they thought she was glaring at the fact that they were having sex in itself, rather than the utter idiocy of the circumstances behind it.

“Taeyeon-sshi?” The voice was outside the door now. “Taeyeon-sshi, are you in there?”

Taeyeon pressed her index finger to her lips, looking pointedly at Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa. Maybe it was unnecessary, maybe it was only common sense to be quiet in a situation like this, but Taeyeon wasn’t sure how much trust she had left in their intelligence after they decided that fucking in her dressing room was a good idea. She pointedly ignored the vaguely offended expressions floating over their faces at her reminding them something that should be obvious.

But then again, so should the thought that maybe, just maybe, having sex with one of your members in a place where you could be seen was not – just might not be – a good idea.

The three of them remained completely silent until they heard footsteps walking away from the door and down the hall. Taeyeon pressed her ear carefully against the wood, listening to the sound of the producer moving further and further away until she could no longer hear him at all. Then she turned back to the two men, her eyes saying everything she needed to say.

Jungsoo-oppa spoke first. He seemed unsure of what to do; not willing to get off Heechul and flash her with their completely naked bodies, but also not exactly pleased in this compromising situation. The awkward tense of both their muscles let her know that they were both trying hard to prevent certain fluids from staining the furniture.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice raw from all the moaning and groaning that he and Heechul had no doubt been up to. “For that save.”

Heechul-oppa, by far the more shameless of the two, was staring patronizingly right back at Taeyeon, refusing to look away. Still, she knew him well enough by now to know he was embarrassed, just much better at hiding it than Jungsoo-oppa, whose expression was growing more awkward and conflicted by the second.

“I wouldn’t have had to save you if you two weren’t stupider than I can express in words,” Taeyeon said bluntly, deliberately refusing to let her eyes trail down their naked bodies. Those muscled arms, those chiseled backs, those toned legs – she wouldn’t look at them, not without permission. But she wasn’t going to look away from their faces either; the two men were far from off the hook. Their fucking, as passionate and enjoyable as it had seemed from that glimpse she’d gotten, had not impressed her in the slightest with its utter absence of discretion.

After a music video shoot, no less! How could they be so careless?

“You aren’t wrong…” Jungsoo-oppa muttered. At least he had the decency to admit it – Heechul-oppa just stared. Taeyeon met his dark brown eyes, not challengingly, but confidently, letting him know that she wasn’t going to cave until he gave some sign of the shame that she knew he was feeling.

She blinked as the sudden observation that it wasn’t with brazenness that Heechul-oppa was looking at her, not anymore, sunk in. But it wasn’t the first time she’d seen that glint in his gaze before. The opaqueness of his eyes, the hunger in them, as they slid down her body appreciatively, was something she was very familiar with.

She was still in the snug red dress she had been assigned to wear for the last scene they shot today.

A pleasant prickling sensation traveling up her spine at the realization of how little her attire left to the imagination, Taeyeon’s eyes flitted to Jungsoo-oppa. He was staring, too. The desire with which he looked at her wasn’t as overt and shamelessly blatant as the desire with which Heechul-oppa did, but it was definitely there. Just better hidden because Jungsoo-oppa was actually bothering to try to conceal it. But the way his teeth sank almost thoughtfully into his lower lip, the uncharacteristically heated gleam in his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled deeply told her more than words could say.

“We’re going now,” Heechul-oppa declared huskily. He was not looking at her eyes as he made his statement, deliberately, for her viewing pleasure, letting his gaze fall… lower. “Get off me, Jungsoo.”

Jungsoo-oppa glanced at his lover, then back at Taeyeon, then back at his lover, uncertainty merging with the lust in his eyes to form a very odd mixture. Still, Taeyeon couldn’t deny how absolutely hot he looked – how absolutely hot they both looked. She shifted, pressing her thighs together to relieve the pressure gathering between them. Heechul-oppa’s eyes glinted; he had noticed, and she was not complaining that he had.

The self-proclaimed Universe Superstar turned his gaze to Jungsoo. “Come on, get off,” he said. “I’m sure Taeyeon didn’t appreciate the sight of us fucking in her dressing room. Let’s go.” His eyes darted toward her again, as if to ask, Did you?

“Hold on.”

Her order had both men diverting their full attention to her. Heechul-oppa looked like a cat that had gotten the cream; Jungsoo-oppa looked shocked. “Pardon?” His voice was soft.

“I appreciated the sight very much,” Taeyeon admitted quietly, but not shyly. “Enough to want to keep watching, actually.”

The chuckle that left Heechul-oppa’s mouth was dark with promise. “I always knew you were a freak, Taeyeon.”

She shrugged. “Between the two of us, you’re the bigger freak, I bet.” Only then did she realize, concerned, that the other member of Super Junior was not responding. Heechul-oppa seemed more than willing, not that she was surprised, but this wasn’t going to happen if any one of the three of them had any objections. “Jungsoo-oppa…”

Her voice calling his name seemed to startle Super Junior’s leader, because he blinked, expression morphing into faint disbelief as he met her gaze, almost in a daze. “You want to watch us… have sex?” he asked, tentatively, as if speaking the very words was a risk that might send her running. It was cute, honestly. Jungsoo-oppa was cute, even though he was ten years older than her. It might not have been appropriate for the situation, but Taeyeon felt her heart swell slightly with a feeling of affection for the man.

Below his lover, Heechul-oppa rolled his eyes so hard that she was afraid briefly they would get stuck at the back of his skull.

“Yeah,” she answered, “I do. I want to watch you two have sex, and maybe… a little more than that.”

“So you’re proposing voyeurism and now a threesome?” Heechul-oppa summed up for her, his voice lilting with sensual approval. “You really are deep into that stuff, aren’t you?”

Taeyeon didn’t bother replying. He already knew the answer. She kept her eyes on Jungsoo-oppa, who had been silent during the entire exchange, his face growing increasingly surprised by the direction their conversation was going.

“Jungsoo-oppa, is that okay with you?” She addressed Super Junior’s leader carefully, studying his expression. So far, all she could detect was faint bewilderment of the entire situation. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to be so unsurprised by his liaison with Heechul-oppa, much less her willingness to watch and participate rather than trying to dissuade their relationship.

Well, Taeyeon had no interest in doing that. Whatever was between Super Junior’s eldest members was between them, and she really didn’t care what it was. They could be in love or they could be fuck buddies, it was no matter to her. All she knew was that they were both attracted to her, she was attracted to both of them, so if all of them were willing, why not give it a shot?

“Is your place open, Taeyeon?”

Jungsoo-oppa’s forward question caught Taeyeon off guard. Not bothering to hide her surprise, she arched her eyebrows and met the leader’s eyes pointedly. To her delight, there was no sign of unwillingness in Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze. In fact, she noted darkly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t unwilling, it was that he was eager. His pupils had darkened over, his tongue absentmindedly darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he blatantly eyed her body.  

Smirking triumphantly, Taeyeon snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Eyes up here,” she ordered, and Jungsoo-oppa complied immediately, their gazes locking. His obedience sent a shiver of delight up Taeyeon’s spine, imagining all the possibilities of what she could do with it later. But he’d also seemed to enjoy being assertive, if the way he’d been thrusting into Heechul-oppa just minutes prior was any indication. She could make good use of that, too…

“It’s open,” she confirmed, and she didn’t miss the anticipation flashing in his gaze, the deepening of his breath at the things that the three of them could get up to in the privacy of her apartment. Heechul-oppa saw it, too. He laughed breathlessly, running a sultry hand down his fellow member’s bare arm and eliciting a subtle shiver from him. “God, you’re such a slut, Jungsoo.”

“So are you,” came the leader’s soft, throaty reply. “The way you moan when I fuck you says everything that’s needed.”

Heechul-oppa glared, but there was no heat behind it. Taeyeon smiled, amused despite herself; their dynamic hadn’t changed, even with their sexual relationship, and frankly, she wasn’t surprised. She didn’t know of the two men were aware of it, but it was blatant just how much more than physical partners they were to each other. They were still up to the same senseless shenanigans that they always were, the senseless shenanigans that she found charming in both of them.

“Just so you know,” she piped up, changing the subject in favor of giving them a brief scolding – because really, they deserved it. “If you two ever decide that fucking on a music video set location is a good idea again, I won’t bother with saving you twice.”

“We get it, we get it,” Heechul-oppa grumbled, rolling his eyes. He pushed against Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulder impatiently, demanding that the other man get off him.

To Taeyeon’s surprise, the leader didn’t hesitate. If he had had qualms about being naked in front of her before, he didn’t now. He slowly shifted off of Heechul-oppa’s body and stood, leaving them both completely bare before her eyes. Taeyeon’s breath hitched as she drank in the sight of them unashamedly; their long, toned limbs, their graceful, pale throats, their sturdily muscled abdominals, and of course – the deep v shapes that tapered down into their cocks. She licked her lips absentmindedly at the sight, not bothering to hide the surge of desire that arched through her veins.

They were absolutely gorgeous, she thought appreciatively. Watching them fuck each other – it would be a sight to behold, she was sure.

But for now, they had to get off the set location and to the privacy of her apartment. The two men were clearly thinking the same, for they began picking up their clothes from off the ground where they had been so carelessly discarded. Taeyeon helped silently, although on the inside she was still a little bit annoyed at the carelessness they had displayed.

About the pulsing between her legs that was refusing to abate, she said nothing. But from the half-lidded, furtive glances that she, Jungsoo-oppa, and Heechul-oppa shared between each other, it was no secret to any of them.

~

After the two men had gotten dressed and they’d all undergone the long process of makeup removal, impatiently trying to suppress the tingling in their bodies in the climbing of their heart rates, the three of them had bid the remaining staff goodbye and made their way to Taeyeon’s apartment. The car ride had been full of whispered, salacious comments, mischievous touches, lips brushing against skin and fingers seeking sensitive places.

But they were finally in the privacy of her home, and all restraints were torn apart. Heechul-oppa had barely closed the door behind them when Jungsoo-oppa grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him, molding their mouths together with an aggressiveness that she hadn’t expected from such a sweet man. His tongue swept along the seam of her lips, barely giving her time to part them before sliding into her mouth and making contact with hers. Taeyeon moaned, clasping her hands against the nape of his neck and pulling him closer to her. Her entire body was on fire, her nerves thrumming, her skin prickling, her heartbeat thudding. And when she felt Heechul-oppa press against her from behind, grinding his hardening cock against her backside through the suddenly too-stuffy fabric of their clothes, electricity arced through her entire body. She shuddered.

Jungsoo-oppa broke their frenzied mash of lips to trail lower, kissing and sucking his way down her jaw and to the arch of her throat, while Heechul-oppa nipped her earlobe, one of his hands snaking up to her breast and pressing at the nipple through the layers of fabric. Taeyeon gasped, her head falling back against Heechul-oppa’s shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Stop,” she panted out, taking Jungsoo-oppa’s face in her hands and pulling him back up to his full height. Behind her, Heechul-oppa released her earlobe and brought his hand back to himself. “What’s the matter?” he asked, a thrill traveling up her spine at the sound of his hoarse voice so close against the sensitive flesh of her ear. He sounded incredibly sexy, but it was tampered with a tint of concern. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she replied quickly. Why would she want to stop? Never. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is?” This time it was Jungsoo-oppa who spoke, gazing at her attentively. It warmed Taeyeon’s heart to see the sincerity in his eyes, the worry in Heechul-oppa’s voice. In that moment, she trusted them completely to take care of her.

Reaching back, she gently palmed Heechul-oppa’s cock. He hissed sharply, probably not expecting the bold move after she’d made them halt their own ministrations on her. Giving Jungsoo-oppa one more quick but heated kiss and then pulling away, Taeyeon turned to face the other man, younger by nine days, and tugged demandingly at the hem of the T-shirt he wore.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pulled the article of clothing off to reveal his pale, well-muscled upper body. Not wasting a second, Taeyeon ran her arms over the newly revealed flesh, her hands sweeping over his chest and abdominals and eliciting a shaky breath from him. It would have been fun, watching him unravel further beneath her touch, but she was too impatient to wait.

“Lay down on the sofa, oppa,” Taeyeon ordered breathlessly, and was met with a raised eyebrow and a gaze full of curious anticipation. Behind her, Jungsoo-oppa softly laughed. “Listen to the lady, Heechul,” Super Junior’s leader commanded.

Shrugging, Heechul-oppa did, shuffling over to the sofa and laying down on the piece of furniture. He looked delectable, spread out before her like that, his bare chest heaving with his heavy breaths and his thick locks mussed and tousled.

Taking Jungsoo-oppa’s hand, Taeyeon led him to the sofa too. “You can watch if you want, Jungsoo-oppa,” she said. “Or join in. It doesn’t matter.”

“Alright.” The leader’s gaze was somehow both dark and burning at the same time, shifting between Taeyeon herself and Heechul, sprawled shirtless on the couch. He was enjoying this much more than she’d thought he would.

Smiling to herself, Taeyeon climbed onto the sofa, undid the button of Heechul-oppa’s jeans, and slid them off down his legs. A faint, almost indiscernible groan left the man as his cock received some freedom from the confines of his pants, although it was still buried under the fabric of the undergarments that he wore, forming a visible and growing tent. Taeyeon pressed the heel of her palm gently against the tip of the rising lump, and Heechul-oppa twisted, gasping. Beneath her hand, she could feel him hardening further.

It would have been lovely to tease him some more, but Taeyeon wanted to get right to it. She had been patient long enough, and there would be plenty of opportunities later to wear down both Heechul-oppa and Leeteuk-oppa until they were begging her to stop goading.

That sounded a like a wonderful night all on its own. But for another time.

Taeyeon wrapped her fingers around the waistband of Heechul-oppa’s boxers and pulled them down, flinging the undergarments somewhere behind her. She glanced over at Jungsoo-oppa to make sure he was having his fill as well, and those eyes, so saturated with blazing lust as they alternated between herself and his fellow member, assured her that he definitely was.

“Like I said, Jungsoo-oppa,” Taeyeon called, “you can join anytime you want.”

“Wow, I’m getting kind of scared,” Heechul-oppa commented sarcastically. His words were light, even mocking, but everything else was a blatant testament to just how turned on he was. His voice was breathless and strained, his pupils were wide and blown, his normally pale cheeks were flushed with a ruddy hue, his fingers digging into the material of her sofa as he tried to control himself. And of course, the most telling sign – his cock was hardening and glistening with pre-cum under the dim light.

“Don’t be,” was Taeyeon’s simple reply before she maneuvered her body so that she was facing that swelling member. Off to the side, Jungsoo-oppa inhaled sharply. Heechul-oppa propped himself onto his elbows to look at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Are you really––”

She took the head of his cock into her mouth, enclosing her lips around it and wasting no time in swiping the searing-hot skin gently with her tongue. Without waiting, she went lower, taking more and more of the blood-swollen organ into her hot cavern, meticulously swiping over its length and girth with her tongue until she her lips were closed almost around the base of Heechul-oppa’s cock.

Heechul-oppa was squirming, panting, moaning, and Taeyeon had to plant a firm hand on his inner thigh to stop his legs from closing around her head. The noises he was making were absolutely delectable – something that Taeyeon knew she’d never forget the sound of. Smug pride surged through her as Heechul-oppa pushed his hips toward her, his fingers tangling in her hair and harshly tugging.

“Holy shit – how – where did you – oh fuck – learn to do – fuck!”

It was a beautiful sight, seeing the self-proclaimed Universe Superstar lose his composure so… utterly. As Taeyeon continued her ministrations, he writhed, mewled, gasped and whimpered, his fingers twisting in her hair with each calculated suck and each mischievous lick. More than pleased at Heechul-oppa’s response, Taeyeon tightened her lips around the base of his cock and hummed softly. The man she was giving her attentions to moaned, loud and unabashed and wanton.

At that moment, Jungsoo-oppa shifted forward to the other end of the couch, where Heechul-oppa’s head lay on the arm of the piece of furniture, long, smooth neck twisting every-which-way in response to Taeyeon’s mouth. Leaning down, the leader captured his fellow member’s lips hotly, cupping Heechul-oppa’s face in his hands to guide their mouths against each other. The sight made Taeyeon’s hands on Heechul-oppa’s thighs tighten, her legs instinctually pressing against each other to alleviate the heat stirring to life between them. Breathing deeply through her nose, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the erotic image before her, letting it spur her on as she worked Heechul-oppa diligently with her lips and tongue. It didn’t take much more to bring him to his end. His cock twitched a few times, his hands in her hair tightened, yanking desperately at her scalp, and he broke his kiss with Jungsoo-oppa to throw his head back on the pillow, his eyes screwed shut and those plump lips parted in an absolutely filthy moan. Inside her mouth, hot, viscous liquid spurted everywhere as he reached his high.

Taeyeon pulled back and wiped her mouth, careful not to let any of Heechul-oppa’s seed slip from her mouth. She had something particular that she wanted to show him – and Jungsoo-oppa, too.

Crawling up Heechul-oppa’s body, she straddled him, the fabric of her clothes just barely brushing against his softening member. Jungsoo-oppa glanced at her, and Heechul-oppa looked up too, his chest heaving as he recovered from his high. He studied her blearily, mind clearly still clouded and blurred with endorphins, but he’d always been a perceptive person. The slight narrowing of his eyes told her that he, even in his partially blissed-out state, sensed she was up to something playful.

But they widened again when she parted her lips to allow her own index finger into her mouth before drawing it out, revealing the digit smeared with Heechul-oppa’s fluids. Only then did she let her throat flex as she swallowed what was in her mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Heechul-oppa gasped, closing his eyes again briefly as he processed what she had just done. His hands came up to grip her hips, fingers digging into her flesh through her clothes as he tried to regain his composure. No sooner had he managed to catch his breath that Taeyeon kissed him. She roughly melded her mouth against his lips, already swollen from his earlier kiss with Jungsoo-oppa, wrapping a hand softly around his throat and stroking the pulse point with her thumb.

Not wanting the other participant of their frolicking to feel left out, Taeyeon glanced at Jungsoo-oppa, who was watching them with intense interest, his eyes drinking in every detail of her kiss with Heechul-oppa, and raised her hand to beckon him closer. When he approached, she broke apart from Heechul-oppa and slotted her mouth against Jungsoo-oppa’s instead. He was very responsive – probably highly turned on since she’d suggested that the three of them share a night together – and enthusiastically returned her kiss, cupping her face in his hands to maximize the contact between their lips.

Underneath her, Heechul-oppa sat up, sweeping the neckline of her shirt and the strap of her bra to the side to reveal the flesh of her shoulder. He grazed his lips lightly over the exposed area, making Taeyeon shiver pleasurably at the sensation. And when his mouth trailed higher, placing hot, wet kisses along her skin as he went, she gasped, breaking her kiss with Jungsoo-oppa.

Heechul-oppa arrived at her ear, gently nipping at the lobe before running his tongue over the shell. It was almost ticklish, a feeling that Taeyeon normally despised, but right now, she would have been absolutely loathe to lose it.

The second-oldest member of Super Junior paused, his lips just barely brushing against her ear. “Your turn,” he whispered, and Taeyeon shuddered at the sound of his voice, so breathy and so hoarse, sounding right next to her.

“Jungsoo,” Heechul-oppa called, turning to look at the leader, who was observing the two of them intently with hunger in his gaze. “You think we should focus on Taeyeon now?”

The other man’s only response was a singular dip of his head, and somehow, that one gesture sent a thrill down Taeyeon’s spine. It was so… predatory, almost, so full of promise and intent that she could practically feel the excitement thrumming through her veins.

“This would be better to do on the bed,” Heechul-oppa said, tapping pointedly at Taeyeon’s thigh. Getting the hint, she got off of him, and he stood from the couch, completely naked and without the slightest hint of shame, his cock still glistening from minutes earlier. Jungsoo-oppa, too, rose to his feet from where he had been kneeling in front of the sofa. The tent pressing against his pants was obvious, and Taeyeon eyed it unashamedly.

She hurriedly led them to her bedroom, not in the mood to tease for the throbbing slickness between her legs. No sooner had she ushered the two men in and closed the door, Jungsoo-oppa was on Heechul-oppa, roughly pulling the other man against him into an ungentle, heated kiss. His mouth dominated his friend’s, forcing their lips against each other in a sloppy, wet tangle of tongue and teeth. It was a beautiful sight, one that Taeyeon wasn’t willing to miss a second of, even if it meant she kept her eyes open and didn’t blink for the entirety of it.

When they at last broke apart, both men were flushed and panting, their pretty eyes half-lidded and their long lashes fluttering. Taeyeon left them to it for a few seconds, despite the desire to be touched burning stronger every second – when else would she get to watch two attractive men, so obviously intimate on a level that was more than physical, do this?

Two men that were both her close friends. She knew this was conventionally wrong, she knew that society would frown upon it. And the unspoken stigma against the whole act was what made it even more thrilling.

Jungsoo-oppa turned his gaze, clouded over with desire, to her. “Sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We’re being a little too selfish.” He held out his hand in her direction – a silent invitation – and Heechul-oppa looked at her too, the lustful haze in his eyes mirroring that of Jungsoo-oppa’s. And probably hers as well.

And as much as Taeyeon didn’t mind watching the two men make out for longer, the throbbing between her legs was almost painful at this point, and certainly not something she felt that she could ignore any longer. So she smiled and took Jungsoo-oppa’s offered hand, letting him lead her to her bed.

“Heechul,” Super Junior’s leader called to his friend. “Sit. With your back against the headboard.”

Heechul-oppa complied without protest, maneuvering himself onto the mattress and moving the pillow out of the way so he was comfortably seated with his back parallel to and pressing against the bed’s headboard, looking at Jungsoo-oppa quizzically all the while. He looked beautiful, his lean, pale body spread completely bare across her bed. It was a sight that Taeyeon was unashamed to brazenly savor, her eyes trailing intently over his flesh.

“Sit between his legs, Taeyeon,” Jungsoo-oppa murmured. “Facing away from him.”

A general idea of what the leader’s plan was materializing in Taeyeon’s mind, she had to stop herself from pinching Jungsoo-oppa’s cheek fondly to signal her approval. Instead, she did as he said, moving over Heechul-oppa. The self-proclaimed Universe Superstar spread his legs so she could settle between them, careful not to press against his exposed member in any way that could be potentially uncomfortable.

“I’m the only one naked here.” There was a fake pout in Heechul-oppa’s voice that made Taeyeon smile. “You two are so inconsiderate.”

“Don’t be so uptight.” Taeyeon rolled her eyes. “If I have any say in it – which I do – we’ll all be naked before this night ends.” That shut him up. Maybe Heechul-oppa… well, both Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, really, hadn’t expected her to be so openminded about this. South Korea was firmly on the conservative end of the spectrum, and she doubted that many people would be looking upon their actions with too much kindness if they knew about them. (Not that that mattered. This was never going to get out.) But Taeyeon didn’t care for conventions; they were all willing, it felt good, she had contraceptives at the ready, and she was going to make strictly sure that both men wrapped their cocks before putting anything inside her.

“I’m looking forward to that,” Jungsoo-oppa commented, the roguish grin spread across his handsome face and the suggestive glint in his eyes giving his entire face an almost dark edge that Taeyeon was willing to bet the general public couldn’t imagine on such a kind and polite man. Unexpectedly, he pulled his shirt off, revealing a firm, toned upper body that had Taeyeon squirming against Heechul-oppa. Seeing his chest, his flat stomach, his long, muscled arms, only strengthened her desire to see the rest of him.

As if he was reading her mind – though really, all it required was some basic common sense – Jungsoo-oppa peeled off his jeans and underclothes in one quick movement, like he had been eagerly looking forward to doing just that. Taeyeon saw why; his cock sprung free from his clothes, still fairly limp but beginning to rapidly stand at attention.

The leader settled on the edge of the mattress, eyeing the two of them, and that was all Taeyeon had time to notice before Heechul-oppa’s hand snaked around to cup her left breast gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple and making her shiver and close her eyes, even through her clothes.

Without waiting, the second-oldest member of Super Junior gave her the same treatment she had given him earlier, pulling insistently at her sweater and the thin T-shirt she had on underneath. Wordlessly, Taeyeon gave in to him, raising her arms so he could pull the articles of clothing off and over her head, leaving her in only a bra and jeans. In front of them, she could feel Jungsoo-oppa’s searing gaze, taking in every detail.

Throwing her shirt and sweater somewhere to the side, Heechul-oppa wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, placing his chin gently on her shoulder so their heated skin pressed against each other. The surprisingly intimate and non-sexual action made Taeyeon’s heart squirm unexpectedly in her chest. She let her head fall back against him, hearing Jungsoo-oppa shift forward until he was directly in front of her and pressing a sweet, open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone, the searing warmth of his body washing over her front. Shivering, Taeyeon reached up and carded her fingers through his hair, the tips of her digits brushing against his scalp. Jungsoo-oppa’s sigh of pleasure did not go unheard by her ears.

The leader of Super Junior moved gradually lower, kissing his way down her body, briefly stopping at her breasts to graze his lips over them, reaching behind to undo the hook of her bra and let it fall away. He continued his descent until he was low enough to hook his fingers around the strap of her jeans and pull, the denim slipping down her legs and baring her skin to both men’s gazes. When the jeans had come completely off, Jungsoo-oppa dropped them on the floor next to the bed. He positioned himself so he could push her legs apart with his hands and gently nip her inner thigh, making Taeyeon flinch from something other than discomfort. Instinct was telling her to press her legs together, to abate the insistent pulsing between them, but Jungsoo-oppa’s firm grip was in the way, leaving her wriggling her hips in an attempt to find some sort of friction.

The sharp smack against her thigh prompted her to stop her movement, understanding Jungsoo-oppa’s unspoken words. That didn’t mean she didn’t gasp, though, when Super Junior’s leader grasped the material of her panties in his hands and pulled down, exposing her throbbing core to his hungry gaze. Taeyeon shuddered as the cool air washed over her womanhood, and even more so when she saw that Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze was shamelessly drinking in every detail of her center, his eyes seeming almost black in the dim light. Or had they actually darkened?

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and he didn’t give her the chance to respond before he dove in.

Taeyeon’s entire body jerked and a high-pitched moan tore from her lips as she felt Jungsoo-oppa’s mouth make contact with her core. Without preamble, he teased her folds apart and closed his lips around her throbbing, dampening clit, flicking his tongue expertly over its tip. Almost of their own free will, Taeyeon’s hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair and pulling as she instinctively tried to flinch away from the delicate assault. But Jungsoo-oppa wrapped his arms firmly around her legs, keeping her planted in place, and Heechul-oppa was behind her, preventing her from moving back – brushing his lips against the curve of her neck, she was vaguely aware. Groaning and whimpering, Taeyeon could only sit there and take the sparks originating at her core, where Jungsoo-oppa was deftly working, and spreading outward to roll over the rest of her nerves.

At her back, she felt something pressing against her rear, hot and hardening by the moment. If she weren’t so foggy-brained from Jungsoo-oppa’s ministrations, Taeyeon would have had the presence of mind to explicitly label it in her head as Heechul-oppa’s cock.

Instinct was telling her to close her legs, but the person in between them made that rather impossible, and Taeyeon couldn’t muster enough strength in her muscles to fight against Jungsoo-oppa’s hold on her lower limbs. She moaned and cried as Super Junior’s leader expertly slowed his pace and then sped it up again, playing with sensations to keep her on the edge and prevent his caresses from falling into any predictable sequence. A particularly well-placed flick of his tongue along the length of her clit made her twitch, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Her dampness had soaked between her legs, only enhancing the pleasure that shot through her body with every contact of Jungsoo-oppa’s lips and tongue against her womanhood.

“Fuck,” she panted, twisting her fingers desperately in Jungsoo-oppa’s hair. “Jungsoo – holy shit – right there.”

He obeyed her dazed command, lapping again at that spot that had had her legs flexing and her chest heaving and her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Taeyeon keened, yanking sharply on his hair in the midst of her blissed stupor, but Jungsoo-oppa didn’t even falter. He continued his ministrations with devastating persistence and unfailing consistency, gently licking and sucking as Taeyeon writhed above him, her head thrown back on Heechul-oppa’s shoulder. Heechul-oppa, for his part, wrapped a hand lightly around her throat, his thumb deftly stroking her pulse point, a pleasurable sensation that made her nerves shudder. His manhood, still propped against her back end, was even harder, and she could feel it throbbing.

Jungsoo-oppa stopped, pulling his tongue back, although she could still feel his hot, heavy breath against her core. Whining in protest at the sudden and jarring lack of stimulation, Taeyeon opened her eyes and glanced down, only to come grinding to a halt with a hard swallow. Jungsoo-oppa, still between her legs, was looking up at her, and their eyes locked. His mouth and chin were smeared with glistening wetness. Her wetness, she realized, just as his tongue flicked over his lips, licking her essence from the smooth skin.

Holy fuck. Taeyeon had to rip her gaze away, or she might have ended right then and there. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to piece her composure back together – but Jungsoo-oppa didn’t give her the chance. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn he flashed a grin – that pure, dimpled grin that so many people associated with Super Junior’s angelic leader – and buried his face between her legs again. His mouth latched onto her core, and the sensation, amplified by her slickness, made Taeyeon yelp. The high-pitched shriek of surprise and pleasure quickly dwindled down to low, helpless mewls as Jungsoo-oppa’s efforts redoubled. His hands wrapped tighter around her thighs as they strained on instinct to close, keeping her pinned firmly on place. Between Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, Taeyeon was completely powerless to do anything but take what was being given to her, to wriggle and moan as Jungsoo-oppa ravished her core expertly with his tongue. Lap – lap – lap – liiiiiick…

And then he kissed the tip of her clit.

It was a small action, really – one that should have been tame in comparison to flattening his tongue against her core, teasing at her entrance with the tip of his tongue, sweeping the hot, wet muscle over her nub with painful slowness – but somehow, that simple thing sent electric sparks from her clit throughout her entire body, thrumming with palpable intensity over her nerves. Her back arched as she gasped, and maybe Heechul-oppa had been studying her responses, waiting for the right timing. Because, just at that moment, he teased her relatively untouched nipples with his thumbs, circling around them, pressing against them, making them harden instantly.

“Fuck,” Taeyeon hissed. Everything stilled.

Somehow, the reaction was starker than anything the two men had gotten out of her before, and it must have encouraged them. After that slightest fraction of a moment’s hesitation, they resumed their caresses with single-minded determination – Heechul-oppa cupped her breasts in his hands, gently pinching her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, while his mouth swept along the curve of her neck, ghosting kisses and licks over her skin. And Jungsoo-oppa – Jungsoo-oppa adjusted himself, hooking her legs over his shoulders so she could hide absolutely nothing from him – and he pushed his tongue into her, his nose pressing against her clit.

Taeyeon moaned as they worked in flawless tandem, their teamwork so perfect that nothing could have denied them. Heechul-oppa’s hands on her nipples, making them hard and aching, and Jungsoo-oppa’s mouth against her core, his tongue thrusting steadily in and out of her, his nose constantly rubbing against her nub with every slightest movement, was more than she could handle. She was whimpering and trembling, pushing her hips this way and that in a frenzied attempt to find some sort of friction to relieve the throbbing need between her legs, both abated and inflamed by the two men working on her body. Her breaths grew shorter and shorter, her movements more and more desperate, as she continued to be pushed closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” she mewled, low and needy, and even in her state of near-euphoria she could sense the effect that her words had on both of them. “Fuck – you – you’re gonna make me come––!”

Heechul-oppa’s chuckle was right against her ear, low and hoarse and absolutely dirty. His hands on her nipples never stopped, pinching and rolling, caressing and palming, and she could feel him grinding his hard cock into her backside.

“Then what’s stopping you?” he asked breathlessly. “Come for us. Now.”

“Please,” Jungsoo-oppa whispered. He brought his right hand away from its previous position of pinning her thigh down and to the space between her legs. “We want to see you.” His thumb pressed into her clit.

Taeyeon shattered. Her pleasure peaked, and her entire body tensed as her orgasm washed over her, beginning as a tremble in her core and rapidly intensifying until the contractions of her walls had her entire body shuddering. Her eyes slammed shut on their own, her lips gasping for air and her hands squeezing tightly to Heechul-oppa’s thighs in a desperate attempt to stay grounded. Her back arched, exposing the entirety of her neck and throat to the two men, and her legs flexed instinctively, trying to close, to abate the clenching at her center – but Jungsoo-oppa held her firmly open, his gaze fixated with single-minded intensity on that spot between her legs. God, he was watching her come.

It must have taken at least ten seconds for her body to relax, and she went limp against Heechul-oppa, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Her core was still throbbing, still reeling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, and she could feel stickiness seeping out of her lower lips.

Heechul-oppa soothed her gently, brushing her cheek with his thumb and murmuring quiet words of comfort. Jungsoo-oppa stroked her ankle and then lowered his head to press a tender kiss against her lower leg. The soft sensations helped bring her back to earth, and Taeyeon opened her eyes to flash them both a small smile, reassuring them that she was okay.

Even so, they had to ask. “Are you okay?” Heechul-oppa asked, his voice husky, but his tone warm, Jungsoo-oppa listening for her answer intently. It made Taeyeon feel soft, comfortable – even loved, although she knew that they didn’t really love her, and she didn’t really love them either. This was a one-time thing, or maybe a two-time thing… an x-time thing, because she had no idea how many times they’d be willing to do it again – but it had no strings attached.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice not coming out properly for a second. She cleared her throat, and even though there was nothing really to be cleared, that seemed to get her vocal cords back in properly working order. “I’m good.”

She shifted and was suddenly acutely aware of some warm stickiness against her back and rear. And, she realized, Heechul-oppa’s manhood was no longer turgid. She turned, and, just as she’d expected, a glistening stain decorated the sheets just around his cock. Seeing her pointed stare, he flashed a shameless grin, but she didn’t not notice the very faint pink blush of his cheeks. Behind her, Jungsoo-oppa chuckled.

“Hey,” Heechul-oppa shrugged. “You can’t blame me for coming. A sight like that – and you were pushing against me right there.”

Right there – against his cock. That was true. If Taeyeon had been in Heechul-oppa’s situation, she was positive she would have come, too. She laughed, breathless and still a little amazed after her high from just a minute ago. “Point taken.”

Heechul-oppa looked happy at her concession, and then his gaze flickered behind her. “Jungsoo…”

Oh, shit. For a second there, Taeyeon had forgotten – Jungsoo-oppa hadn’t gotten a single orgasm yet. After watching her suck Heechul-oppa off and then helping her come herself, he’d received absolutely nothing. She could see that his cock was still stiff and aroused, and its tip was damp.

“I’m okay.” Jungsoo-oppa clearly wasn’t, his breaths short and strained, his eyes wild with desire, but he was, as always, thinking of others far before he spared a thought for himself. “You two must be tired. Don’t worry about it.”

“Taeyeon might be,” Heechul-oppa cut in, “but I’m not. And you’re clearly not okay.” He smiled impishly. “Don’t worry, I can help you with that.” As the words came out of his mouth, he moved onto all fours, crawling toward the leader on the mattress.

“I’m fine, really.” But Jungsoo-oppa’s voice was thick. Hoarse and raw, like he was trying to control himself, and his breathing had deepened, his eyes darkening. “Heechul, you don’t have to – ah!”

Heechul-oppa settled between Jungsoo-oppa’s legs, ignoring his half-hearted insistence that he didn’t need to be looked after – even though he so clearly did – and wrapped his lips around the head of the other man’s cock. Her breathing deepening, Taeyeon shifted, adjusting her position so she could sidle up next to Heechul-oppa and get a good, proper look as he took more and more of his friend into his mouth.

“Shit,” Jungsoo-oppa breathed, burying his hands in Heechul-oppa’s bleached, white-blonde locks, his eyes sliding closed in surrender as the fellow member worked his cock. The stressed tension in his body lines, softening bit by bit as the night had gone further, melted away completely, replaced by loose tightness that was much more natural, much laxer. He let his head fall back, obviously just basking in the sensation of Heechul-oppa’s mouth on him.

They’ve done this before. Taeyeon knew it without question, from the easy rhythm into which they fell. Plenty of times before. Today in her dressing room, that most certainly wasn’t the first time. She wondered how long this had been going on.

It was sweet, the scene before her eyes. Yes, blowjobs weren’t normally considered sweet, but that’s exactly what this one was. Heechul-oppa went slowly; not torturously, teasingly, not slow in a way that was meant to encourage begging, but slowly in a way that was meant to be comfortable and enjoyable for Jungsoo-oppa. And it was clearly working, from the leader’s little sighs of pleasure, his quiet whimpers, the way his fingers tightened in Heechul-oppa’s hair but never yanked, the relaxed set of his entire body as he just melted into the sensations. Jungsoo-oppa was too often stressed and too often troubled, and if Heechul-oppa could help him with that – was trying to help him with that – like he was now, then it was sweet.

With a soft, wet pop, Heechul-oppa pulled his mouth from Jungsoo-oppa’s cock, spurring a whimper of protest from the leader as his eyes cracked open, bleary with pleasure. Heechul-oppa responded by giving a reassuring stroke on Jungsoo-oppa’s thigh before he glanced at Taeyeon and glanced down. An offer.

Gladly taking it, she reached between Jungsoo-oppa’s legs, and gently, delicately, ran the flat of her palm over his balls. The leader of Super Junior’s eyes snapped open in surprise as she cupped them lightly in her hands, adding just the slightest amount of pressure. She didn’t miss Heechul-oppa’s approving smirk before he once again engulfed the head of Jungsoo-oppa’s cock in his mouth, squeezing another gasp from the leader.

The two of them fell into a surprisingly natural tandem, coordinating their efforts to maximize the experience for Jungsoo-oppa. It was fascinating, Taeyeon thought, watching for the telltale signs of beginning to fall apart – the desperate flex of his throat as he swallowed wildly, the heaving of his chest as his whimpers grew increasingly in volume, the curling of his toes as his peak crept closer and closer. Something about the utter lack of control that he seemed to have over his own reactions was mesmerizing, pleasing even in itself, and it spurred her to try new tricks. She alternated the pressure of her hands against his balls, at times using the flat of her palms and at times using the very tips of her fingers, kneading here and stroking there.

The effect of her touches, combined with Heechul-oppa’s skillful mouth, proved to be too much for Jungsoo-oppa to handle for long. Taeyeon caught the hint that he was about to orgasm and, in a snap decision, left her spot. Pressing forward, she ran her hands along Jungsoo-oppa’s toned chest, flicking his nipples with her fingers, before slotting her mouth against his. He was caught off-guard, too hazy with pleasure to notice what she had been doing, and too drunk on sensations to put up much of a fight back. It was an easy and quick battle, teasing his mouth open with her own and greedily plundering, dipping the hot, wet muscle of his tongue against hers.

That was the final straw. With a long, soft moan, Jungsoo-oppa came, clenching his fists in his fellow member’s hair, back arching and pelvic muscles tensing. His mouth stilled, giving Taeyeon the possibility to explore more of the searing, damp cavern – but instead, she pulled back enough so she could watch him falling apart completely, his long neck and throat flexing. It was a mesmerizing sight, to watch his body contorting as he surrendered, if only for these brief seconds, any control over it.

Gradually, he relaxed once again, his fingers loosening in Heechul-oppa’s hair. Chest heaving, he opened his eyes, clouded over with the remnants of his earlier high. Taeyeon flashed him a wry grin as Heechul-oppa sat him, wiping his mouth with his hand. The muscles of his throat flexed as he swallowed – presumably taking Jungsoo-oppa’s seed down his throat. The leader’s breathing deepened once again when he saw his friend’s actions, his body stiffening as he tried to control himself. “Heechul,” he rasped out, voice raw and tinged with wild desperation. “Do you have to?”

“Of course I do,” Heechul-oppa’s voice was impish. “Only the best is allowed for you, Jungsoo.”

At his words, Jungsoo-oppa opened his eyes. There was a certain softness in them that seemed to turn the whole situation from dirty to sweet. “Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely. “Both of you.”

He was just so kind, Taeyeon thought fondly. Leaning in, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, smiling at the bemused blink he gave her in response.

“Hard to believe that you two didn’t like each other when you first met,” Heechul-oppa commented as the three of them began settling into the mattress, tired but satisfied. They needed a break. Jungsoo-oppa maneuvered himself to the left of the bed, Heechul-oppa to the right, and Taeyeon – she was sandwiched between them, the warmth of their sweaty bodies mingling with hers. She turned herself onto her stomach, pulling up the blanket to partially cover their naked bodies.

Jungsoo-oppa smiled sheepishly. “I’m more convinced that I just disliked her for no reason.”

“He did,” Taeyeon confirmed, giving him a dirty look. “He thought I was standoffish, which lead him to think I was stuck up.”

“You mean because of those little rumors that went around about her, don’t you.” It was a rhetorical question that Heechul-oppa asked, but Taeyeon nodded anyway. The second oldest member of Super Junior made a face at that. “That’s mostly all bullshit, anyway. You know how usually female celebrities get hate and rumors for the most ridiculous things. I can’t believe you ever believed any of it.”

“I can’t, either,” Jungsoo-oppa admitted, turning over onto his side. “That was a mistake.” His eyes met Taeyeon’s. “You were nothing like what I thought you were.”

“I’m not sure if anyone is,” Taeyeon snorted. “There are probably a lot of spoiled, arrogant people in this world – well, there are, definitely – but I doubt all of them know they’re being spoiled and arrogant and do it on purpose.” But despite it all, she was still grateful that she’d become close to Jungsoo-oppa at all. He was such a good friend, someone whom she couldn’t imagine her life without.

“You’re probably right.” Jungsoo-oppa sounded thoughtful. Contrary to the image he presented to he public, he was someone who had a lot of thoughts going on in that head of his. “I thought you might be acting snobbish just to be acting snobbish. What really happened was that you weren’t really acting snobbish at all…” An awkward smile turned his lips upward, and Taeyeon felt the arbitrary desire to trace her fingers over the seam of his mouth.

“I was biased,” Super Junior’s leader commented. “Especially about letting the rumors get to my head. You did snap me out of it, though.”

“What did she say?” Heechul-oppa asked, looking intrigued. Taeyeon reached over and tucked a strand of bleached-blonde hair away from his eyes as he spoke, but when she went to pull away, he, surprisingly, caught her hand in his and interlocked their fingers. Casually, not even looking while he did so, but that somehow suited Heechul-oppa far more.

“Basically that I don’t know shit,” Jungsoo-oppa summarized. Taeyeon laughed. That was accurate, although what she’d actually said had been Who are you to judge me?

Heechul-oppa snorted, too, amusement lacing his features. “That sounds exactly like you, Taeyeon.”

She eyed him. “Is that a compliment or…?”

Maybe as expected for Heechul-oppa, the answer he gave her was mischievous. There were no words, only an arch of his eyebrows that seemed to be saying What do you think?

“You two met hosting Inkigayo together, right?” Jungsoo-oppa questioned. “2000… 2009, was it? How did you get along?” He looked curious, his brown eyes opened slightly wider than usual, his eyebrows arched faintly, the very picture of inquisitiveness.

He really was cute.

“Great, actually,” she answered, truthfully. “Mostly thanks to Heechul-oppa.” He made blatant advances to become friendly with other people – she didn’t really bother. She could be friendly and was when talked to, but she rarely initiated conversations without a reason. Heechul-oppa, on the other hand…

“He said hi to me, said he was a fan, and then that he wanted to be friends. And he held out his hand, just like this,” Taeyeon continued, holding out her hand in the same way Heechul-oppa had when they first met. “I thought he was weird, honestly, but I did like him. So I just said yes. You know, like the sane person that one of us has to be.”  

“Bullshit, you said ‘That sounds good to me, sunbaenim. By the way, you’re even prettier up close.’ Sane,” Heechul-oppa scoffed. Taeyeon shrugged innocently.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Jungsoo-oppa snorted, but his eyes were twinkling merrily. Taeyeon smiled, while Heechul-oppa rolled his eyes. “Us?” He laughed. “You’re the craziest one here, Jungsoo.”

It was nice, Taeyeon thought lazily, reminiscing with two of her closest friends like this. Of course the situation was a little bit less than commonplace, but that wasn’t something she thought of frequently, not when the three of them continued to talk and laugh and joke so naturally. It didn’t, at all, feel like they were doing something strange, not even if it was true that they were all completely naked in bed together and had been giving and receiving orally between each other.

“When did this start happening between the two of you?” she asked. “Your… relations?” She wasn’t sure what else to call it. They didn’t strike her as considering themselves to be in a relationship, but she didn’t think it was just about having sex and feeling good. There was too much raw intimacy between them for that to be the case.

Heechul-oppa looked thoughtful, presumably trying to remember. “The first time was… a few months after our Incheon fight, wasn’t it?” he asked, glancing at Jungsoo-oppa, who nodded in confirmation. “It was when we were in America, and Jungsoo wanted to make up after our fight.” He snorted, but there was no true scorn behind it. “After rejecting every attempt that I made to talk to him.”

“He is a lot more obnoxious than most people would think,” Taeyeon commented playfully, both she and Heechul-oppa laughing at Jungsoo-oppa’s mock cry of protest. Then Heechul-oppa continued with his story, the other two listening with rapt attention – Taeyeon because she was curious of how the two of them had happened, and Jungsoo-oppa, it seemed, because he was curious of how Heechul-oppa would tell his account of what had happened.

“Anyway, we were talking about this and that, explaining why we made each other angry enough to fight. Then Jungsoo––”

“Hold on,” Taeyeon interrupted, not wanting to infringe upon Jungsoo-oppa’s personal matters. They were friends, and it wasn’t like she was against hearing this, but there were certain lines that she had to respect if Jungsoo-oppa was uncomfortable. She knew that night had been an emotional one – it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she didn’t want to intrude on it. “Is it okay for me to be hearing this?”

Heechul-oppa blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Isn’t it too personal? Jungsoo-oppa?” She glanced at him to find him looking as puzzled as Heechul-oppa. “Are you alright with me knowing what happened that night?” She understood if it was a private matter between the two men, something that she had no part in. She might have partaken in their sessions this time, but she didn’t think she was in the position to –

“Taeyeon,” Heechul-oppa’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “As weird as it sounds, you’re as much a part of this threesome as Jungsoo and I are. And you’re our friend. We don’t need to keep this a secret from you; I think we’re all past that stage with each other.”

“He’s right.” Jungsoo-oppa sounded firm – that tone that always reminded Taeyeon that, no matter how dorky or ridiculous he seemed (or more accurately, was), he was still Leeteuk, the respected leader of one of the world’s most successful groups, always at the forefront of Hallyu. “We’re not any less friends with you than we’re friends with each other. I trust you, Taeyeon. You can – and should – hear this.”

Taeyeon inhaled slowly. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel very slightly emotional. They were willing to divulge something so personal and close to home – to her, a third party. It wasn’t because of any feeling of being undeserving or inadequate on her part; if they wanted to tell her, they were welcome to. But the fact that they wanted to was a little bit touching. She nodded.

Seeing her understanding, Heechul-oppa continued. “And Jungsoo started telling me about how he was feeling lonely sometimes, how he was exhausted and stressed as the leader, how he felt like he couldn’t properly express his worries to the others without dragging the entire team down. He… cried that night.”

Taeyeon’s heart clenched. She glanced over at Jungsoo-oppa, who was staring at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. “I let Heechul know everything,” he said. “I hid it for years, and I intended to keep hiding it, but I told him.” Taeyeon and Heechul-oppa listened carefully. “I think… I couldn’t bear to tell anyone but him. The others would help me, of course, but they wouldn’t understand completely, and I don’t want to be a burden to them. But Heechul… I thought he’d understand. And he does.” Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze was warm as he looked at his friend.

Heechul-oppa scoffed, but Taeyeon could instantly tell it was a scoff borne of embarrassment. He wasn’t good at warm and fluffy settings like this, after all. “Hey,” he grumbled, but his voice was bashful. “Don’t be so cringy.”

His prickliness and his awkwardness when faced with heartwarming situations made Taeyeon laugh as she reached forward to place an affectionate palm on Jungsoo-oppa’s cheek. To her slight surprise, he closed his eyes as her hand made contact with his skin, leaning into her touch like a satisfied cat.

It was cute. She knew she’d already said this before, but Jungsoo-oppa was seriously cute.

“Then what happened?”

“We were a little bit drunk,” Heechul-oppa picked up. “Jungsoo was hugging me, and he was crying. And, this is embarrassing, but I started crying too.”

The image in Taeyeon’s mind was nothing short of heartwrenching. She knew, on some level, the difficulties that Jungsoo-oppa went through, because for some reason he seemed to be able to confide in her – and she was a leader, too. She sadly couldn’t comprehend the depths of the burden he felt, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand how difficult things had been for him. It was such a relief, sincerely, that Heechul-oppa was there with him. She remembered hearing Donghae-oppa talking about how, after the night that Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa made up from their Incheon fight, Heechul-oppa was always on Jungsoo-oppa’s side. It must have been because he had realized how much the leader needed someone to lean on.

“Then?” She was curious. How did they become what they were now?

Heechul-oppa hesitated, looking embarrassed. Taeyeon could just tell he’d done something extremely sweet that he didn’t want to say he’d done. She glanced at Jungsoo-oppa, who had a mischievous glint in his eye, clearly about the spill the beans on his friend.

“He held my hand,” the leader supplied, and Taeyeon’s eyes widened as she turned a teasing gaze on Heechul-oppa, who was abashedly grumbling to himself, looking away. Then Jungsoo-oppa turned sentimentally serious again, the mirth leaving his eyes as he recalled the night that he and his friend had become, it seemed to Taeyeon, something more intimate, and not just physically, or even just romantically. “I was crying into his shoulder. And then he…”

“Kissed you?” Taeyeon guessed.

“It was kind of mutual.” Jungsoo-oppa specified, “He tried to wipe away my tears – while crying himself – and then we were kissing.” The leader shrugged. “Somehow. It escalated from there.”

Taeyeon fell silent, trying to imagine the kind of headspace they had both been in that night. Both men emotional and crying, Jungsoo-oppa confessing how alone he felt and unable to express his worries he was, Heechul-oppa listening and shedding tears, too, for his friend and for their group and for what they’d all gone through over the years. And, in the end, their kiss leading to their first time together. What had they been thinking? What did they think about each other? Friends, of course, the most intimate kind, but what else?

What were they?

“What are you two?” Taeyeon asked. The question made both men sit up, so she followed, flipping back onto her back and pulling herself upright, holding the blanket to her chest. Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa looked thoughtful, as if they were also fishing for a proper answer to her question. It didn’t seem like they’d never thought about to Taeyeon, though, and she really couldn’t blame them. If she was in their situation – if she was them – she’d be wondering about it all the time.

“I don’t think this is a relationship, to be honest. I don’t think either of us do.” It was Heechul-oppa who spoke first, glancing at his friend, who nodded in agreement. “We’re not looking for longtime commitment, and neither of us will protest or feel upset if the other dates. And of course, this stops if one of us is ever in a legitimate relationship.” Jungsoo-oppa nodded, once again.

“So I guess we’re just screwing,” Heechul-oppa finished with a wry smile. But Taeyeon wasn’t convinced, and not only because of her own observations about the relationship between the two men. It was also because Heechul-oppa did not sound or look convinced with his own words, and neither did Jungsoo-oppa looked satisfied with the description of their relationship.

“That’s it?” she asked, not bothering to filter the doubt from her voice. The blunt question seemed to snap both Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa out of a trance. They looked at her simultaneously, visible surprise in their dark eyes. Taeyeon arched her eyebrows, somehow not confused by the stark reaction.

“I mean,” she said, “you two seem like a lot more than just fuck buddies to me.”

“Of course we’re more than that. We’re friends.” Jungsoo-oppa’s reply was slightly feeble. Not his voice, but the conviction behind it was slightly, and quite noticeably, lacking.

Taeyeon rolled her eyes. “That too, naturally. But I mean you’re both more to each other than just fuck buddies, and more to each other than just friends.”

“We’re not in love,” Heechul-oppa said firmly, clearly thinking she was implying that. And while that wasn’t exactly what she had been intending to say, she found that she had to wonder about that. Still. If they wanted to consider themselves not in love, she supposed that was beyond the scope she was willing to dig into. But they were not going to sit there and tell her that they were just two close friends happily screwing each other and nothing else, not when everything about them, together and here in her house contradicted that.

“I don’t mean that,” she chided, earning questioning glances from the two men. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s a single word in the dictionary to describe what you two seem to be to me.”

Heechul-oppa cocked his head, the fringe of his bleached-blonde locks falling slightly to the side with the movement. “Then describe it in words.”

Taeyeon’s eyes flicked over to Jungsoo-oppa. He seemed curious, too. She paused. It wasn’t difficult to describe what she saw their relationship as; several phrases came easily enough to accurately give them a picture of how they appeared to her eyes. But she had to wonder how they would react to her assessments.

Even so, she was going to be honest with them. Beating around the bush had never been in her nature.

“To keep it simple, I think you two are just always going to be there for each other,” she admitted. “There’s some kind of connection between you that no one else has.”

Heechul-oppa made a face. “Connection? What trash romance novels have you been reading?”

“I’m serious,” Taeyeon scolded, although she was amused; this reaction was just like the Heechul-oppa that she knew. “You two understand each other on a deeper level than anyone else. It comes from psychological closeness, if you ask me. You’ve both seen and know the worst of each other – that can make for a seriously strong bond.” She hesitated and studied the men in her bed, curious to know what they thought of her opinion on the matter. They were both looking at her with twin expressions of rapt interest, confirming Taeyeon’s suspicion that neither of them had ever really believed they were just screwing. Both of them knew they were more (they’d have to be stupid to believe otherwise, really), they just hadn’t known what to call that more.

In all honesty, she didn’t know what to call it, either. She was only describing it as best as she could. “You’re just… intimate.”

“Intimate?” Jungsoo-oppa’s voice was thoughtful. “That’s kind of accurate… I think that’s the best way of expressing it, actually.”

Heechul-oppa didn’t say anything. Generally, if he was wordless in these kinds of conversations, it meant he was in agreement – but then, he did speak, leaning over to Taeyeon and nuzzling her bare shoulder.

“You’re smart,” he murmured sincerely between kisses against her skin, “Jungsoo’s right, that’s accurate.”

Taeyeon opened her mouth to speak, but Heechul-oppa silenced her with a brief and light kiss. When he pulled back, she laughed breathlessly, surprised. “Why does it seem like that turns you on?”

“It does,” was the husky reply. His gaze was intense, almost fixated on her, as he shook the fringe of his bleached-blonde hair out of his eyes.

Damn. Whatever else might be true, Heechul-oppa was sexy. That much was an irrefutable truth of the world.

“That so?” Taeyeon clasped her hands around the nape of his neck and kissed him, fully on the mouth this time. Their lips melded together naturally, tongues brushing, and Heechul-oppa ran one hand down the length of her spine, making her shiver. The other he reached out to Jungsoo-oppa, who – Taeyeon cracked open one eye even while kissing Heechul-oppa to see this – entwined their fingers and pressed his lips tenderly to Heechul-oppa’s palm in a gesture of affection.

Taeyeon and Heechul-oppa broke apart, and Heechul-oppa turned his head towards Jungsoo-oppa. Taeyeon watched with fascination as it was them two who kissed this time, with so much emotion and sheer vulnerability that it could almost have made her tear up.

Love was an elusive concept, but she thought if she had ever come close to seeing it, now was the closest.

Jungsoo-oppa pulled backwards barely a centimeter, as if reluctant to part from his friend for even that little bit. Both men were flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and naked chests heaving as they caught their breath.

“Heechul,” the leader gasped, his voice hoarse with desire. “And you too, Taeyeon.” Reaching out, he caught her hand in his much larger one and brought it to his cheek with a kind of fierce, burning affection. “Thank you.”

Somehow, she knew exactly what he was thanking them for, even if it wasn’t explicitly stated. Her heart squeezing at his raw sincerity, Taeyeon stretched forward and pressed her face into the crook of Jungsoo-oppa’s neck, placing a kiss on his collarbone and feeling the shudder that ran through his body at the contact. “Jungsoo,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his neck, calling his given name freely without any honorifics. “You’re such a beautiful person, do you know that?”

Jungsoo-oppa let out a guttural moan that was far too visceral to be just a reaction to her mouth pressing against his pulse point. He curled his fingers in Taeyeon’s hair, pulling lightly and pleasurably at her scalp. She breathed out lightly in approval at the sensation, but in the next instant, the sigh turned into a strangled whimper. Heechul-oppa had reached underneath the blanket, his hand dipping between her legs. His index finger traced a continuous figure 8 on her clit, dragging mercilessly across the sensitive nub and ignoring Taeyeon’s soft mewls. He didn’t stop until her core was trembling slightly and there was fresh, new wetness between her thighs.

When Heechul-oppa pulled his hand away, Taeyeon hissed in protest, the denial sending a deliciously hollow pang roiling throughout her entire body. He just flashed an impish smile, coupled with a mischievous cock of his head that made strands of his white-blonde hair fall prettily across his eyes. She scowled at him, but there was no true annoyance behind it.

“What now?” Heechul-oppa asked mischievously, his dark brown eyes glinting in the low light. Jungsoo-oppa was looking at intently, too. They’re leaving the decision up to me, Taeyeon thought. She could ask them to do anything that she wanted, and as long as they were comfortable with it, it was all hers. The thought made her head spin with ideas.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she asked.

Heechul-oppa blinked. “What?”

“You tell me. I’m sure you have great ideas too, oppa. Jungsoo-oppa, too. What do you think we could get up to?” She was genuinely curious. The fact that they were willing to have a threesome already meant that they were probably more open to experimenting than the majority of people, but Taeyeon wanted to know just how far that went.

Jungsoo-oppa liked her suggestion. The dark glint in his usually gentle eyes was more than enough confirmation of that. Heechul-oppa looked more than willing, too, his face thoughtful as he considered her words.

“Then,” Jungsoo-oppa spoke up, “do you want to watch while I fuck Heechul?”

Taeyeon pressed her legs together, biting her lip as Heechul-oppa glared at his friend. “She’s already seen enough of that, you spoilsport,” he retorted. “How about you watch me fuck Jungsoo? Doesn’t that sound good?”

It did sound good. Both of their suggestions sounded good, and if they were willing then Taeyeon was also willing to save that for another occasion. But right now, what was starting to tentatively come to her mind – although it would have been much nicer if it had come to her mind before she decided to ask the two men what they thought – involved all three of them. “Both of those are good ideas,” she said, “but I’m starting to have something else in mind.”

The two men pinned her with twin curious gazes, and Taeyeon had to look away briefly to hide the small smile that crept onto her face at the sight. She resisted the urge to reach up and card her fingers through their hair, and instead clarified her intentions. “I want both.”

“Both?” They repeated her at almost the same time. Taeyeon nodded. “Both. Of you. At the same time.”

There was a pause. Heechul-oppa’s teeth sank into his lower lip, and Jungsoo-oppa’s breathing deepened.

“Woah, woah, woah. Will you be okay?” Heechul-oppa asked. His eyes were wide at her idea – the picture of surprise, it might seem, but Taeyeon knew him well enough to notice the subtle signs of arousal making themselves known. His pale cheeks were flushing over, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed gingerly. Jungsoo-oppa, she could see, was no less unaffected. His chest was heaving with his deepening breaths, and his eyes seemed to have darkened over from deep brown to black.

“If I’m not okay at any point, I’ll let you know,” Taeyeon assured him.

Heechul-oppa eyed her, still holding on to his reservations. She didn’t blame him – this was a big thing to be suggesting, and it wasn’t like he seemed to be against it. Just concerned for her. “You’re suggesting you take one of us in the ass. Have you ever…?”

“Had anal sex?”

“Yeah.” Heechul-oppa looked a tad bit awkward to be talking about these things, and Jungsoo-oppa’s expression was mildly scandalized at how straightforward they were being. As for Taeyeon, it felt peculiar, too, but she pushed past the strangeness of it. Candidacy was important when it came to these matters.

“I have, yeah.” Her confirmation clearly abating their concerns a little, both men relaxed, moving away from the realm of worries and fully easing themselves into the realm of lust. Her libido bouncing off and mirroring theirs, Taeyeon could feel herself becoming more hot and bothered, too. Images flitted in her mind, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were some of the dirtiest thoughts that had ever gone through her head. Jungsoo-oppa pressed a hot, reassuring kiss against her mouth, their tongues brushing as Taeyeon clasped a hand around the nape of his neck. The temperature in the room seemed to be rising rapidly as all three bodies shifted, drawing closer together and relishing in the sensation of each other’s skin. Shifting his position so he was behind her, Heechul-oppa wrapped his arms around her waist, his teeth grazing her shoulder lightly. Taeyeon could feel his member hardening against her ass. She moaned softly as he palmed her rear, teasing the skin in slow, smooth strokes.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he murmured into her ear, making Taeyeon shudder. She nodded, flashing him a smile over her shoulder before pulling Jungsoo-oppa toward her for another kiss.

Brushing his lips against the nape of her neck, Heechul-oppa declared, “I’ll take the back. Is that okay with both of you?”

Pulling back from the kiss, but only slightly, Jungsoo-oppa nodded as Taeyeon did too. “The lube and condoms are in that nightstand drawer,” she supplied, gesturing towards the nightstand sitting next to her bed.

In hurried, impatient movements, Heechul-oppa opened the drawer, pulled out the bottle and two packets. He threw one of the packets and Jungsoo-oppa, who caught it deftly. Giving Taeyeon another quick kiss, Super Junior’s leader ripped the material open, gingerly bringing out the condom. Stroking himself quickly a few times, he rolled the latex down his length, and maybe it was Taeyeon’s miscalculation, but she thought she saw his fingers trembling ever-so-slightly in anticipation. Heechul-oppa did the same as his friend, sighing lightly as the material settled over his hardening manhood.

Taeyeon’s heartbeat quickened until she could feel it thumping in her ears. She might have had sex both ways, but never before had she had both at the same time. The anticipation she felt was undeniably powerful, but despite the fact that she was the one who’d suggested this, she couldn’t argue that she was one-hundred percent confident and nothing else. Would it hurt? What would it feel like, even if it didn’t? Was it even possible for her? What if––

Heechul-oppa nuzzled the back of her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the skin, while Jungsoo-oppa took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Relax, Taeyeon.” His voice was soft. “We’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Taeyeon felt Heechul-oppa nod his head behind her in agreement. “We’re going to make you feel so good,” he murmured gently, rubbing her spine with his thumb. “And if you want to, we will stop anytime.” He placed a hand on her thigh and stroked it, not as a sexual gesture but as a gesture of reassurance. Coupled with Jungsoo-oppa’s fingers interlaced with hers, it was enough to calm Taeyeon’s pulse a little. She took a deep breath, nodding in thanks at his comfort, and decided that she didn’t want to wait for the two men to make their moves. Taking the initiative, she put her hands on Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulders and gently pushed him down onto the mattress. He gave without protest or resistance, letting her settle him down, head on the pillow and body comfortably prone on the bed.

Straddling Super Junior’s leader, leaning over him, Taeyeon lowered her face to his. She briefly considered kissing him, but instead, the action of pressing their foreheads together and nuzzling against his face felt righter. Better. She closed her eyes and sighed softly as their noses touched and their cheeks brushed, feeling the small puffs of air against her mouth as Jungsoo-oppa breathed. For a moment, they just enjoyed the quiet peace, the pleasure of skin against skin.

Then Taeyeon reached between them and pressed the heel of her palm gently into the base of his cock. Jungsoo-oppa jerked, a groan escaping him. His hands flew up to grip her waist, fingers digging into her skin. His hips rolled, and his lower head brushed against her clit. Taeyeon gasped. She could feel her core beginning to pulse again, desperate for contact and friction. As if sensing her arousal, Heechul-oppa shifted, bringing his hand over and around her leg to touch her clit. Another moan fell from Taeyeon’s lips. Her legs felt weak, and it was difficult to hold herself up over Jungsoo-oppa’s body. And when Heechul-oppa used his entire hand, rolling the throbbing nub with his palm, she felt herself beginning to tremble. Unable to help herself, she reached between her own legs, her fingers brushing against Heechul-oppa’s at her center.

“Naughty,” Heechul-oppa whispered, making Taeyeon flush. He took her hand in his larger one and guided her fingers to caress her clit. Taeyeon didn’t try to stop it, the surrender of letting him use her hand to do his work turning her on just as much as the actual touching.

The entire time, Jungsoo-oppa had been relaxing and watching the show, the picture of leisure if not for his heaving chest, flushed cheeks, and turgid manhood. It was only then that he moved, reaching up to cup one of Taeyeon’s breasts in his hand. His thumb traced its supple curve before brushing the nipple, and Taeyeon keened. She wanted to press her legs together, to calm the pounding and throbbing at her center, but the lower limbs were spread with Jungsoo-oppa’s waist and Heechul-oppa’s hand working hers between them. She was so wet, she realized – so wet – that she could feel it seeping from her folds, smeared all about her core and inner thighs thanks to Heechul-oppa’s efforts.

“Oh God,” she moaned. “I can’t take it anymore. Jungsoo-oppa, Heechul-oppa, I want… I want…” The sentence wouldn’t come out. But the two men didn’t need words.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take us both?” Jungsoo-oppa asked one more time. Behind her, Heechul-oppa stilled, waiting to hear her response. Not even when Taeyeon wriggled her hips, trying to create more friction between his fingers and her core, did he move. Swallowing a frustrated cry, Taeyeon nodded. She knew that they just wanted to make sure she was completely ready – and she was.

At her affirmation, Heechul-oppa took his hand away from between her legs, freeing her hand in turn. A glance over her shoulder made Taeyeon aware that he was opening the bottle of lube, holding it carefully at an angle as to not spill any on the bed. Her heart pounding, she turned her attention back to Jungsoo-oppa and lowered her body, feeling every inch as he entered her. She felt the moment the head of his cock slipped inside her wet folds, she felt every centimeter as he sunk deeper and deeper into her core, and she felt the moment he bottomed out inside her, the tip pressing against that one spot. The stretch of her inner muscles felt so good that it almost hurt – almost – making her head spin. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control herself.

Beneath her, Jungsoo-oppa moaned, going to roll his hips, but Taeyeon stopped him by wrapping a gentle hand around his throat. Not yet. She wanted desperately for him to move, too, because the feeling of him inside her was torturous, and her pulsing, trembling channel was demanding for more, but she was sure she’d come all too soon if she let him move.

Taeyeon took another deep breath when she felt Heechul-oppa’s hand hovering near her asshole. It wasn’t her first time in the back end, but it was her first time in both, and stark cold of the lube against her heated skin was always difficult to adjust to. She struggled not to tense when Heechul-oppa slipped a lubed finger inside her, murmuring reassuringly. It felt a little bit odd, as it always did, but Jungsoo-oppa’s hand, slipping through hers and squeezing, helped her relax as Heechul-oppa worked her with his finger, getting her used to the sensation. It didn’t take long until she was gasping and just a finger wasn’t nearly enough. Sensing her want for more, Heechul-oppa slipped another digit in, slowly, carefully scissoring his fingers.

Taeyeon’s toes curled at the sensation that swept over her. She had to fight to keep herself upright, not expecting the pleasure to be so potent. There was a heat stirring in her core that she’d never felt before, and all she knew was that she wanted it – no, needed it – to expand, to engulf her entire body until it was all she could think about.

“More.” The word was broken and hoarse, and sounded even more wrecked than Taeyeon had expected. Her own voice sounded so deliciously helpless… Taeyeon moaned, the thrill going straight to her core.

Heechul-oppa didn’t tease. Obediently, he removed his fingers from her, eliciting an unexpected murmur of complaint from Taeyeon, and squirted more lube onto his hand, making sure to thoroughly smear her tight ring of muscle in preparation for him. Hazily, through the cloud of lust, Taeyeon realized how well the two men were taking care of her, despite how dirty what they were doing was. Jungsoo-oppa’s fingers were still threaded through hers, comforting, and Heechul-oppa must have been dying to feel something against his cock, but his movements were unhurried and meticulous as he got her ready. It touched her, and, more appropriately for this situation – their sweetness was also a turn-on. Involuntarily, her walls squeezed once around Jungsoo-oppa, making him gasp.

Heechul-oppa placed his hands on her waist, and Taeyeon felt the head of his lubricated cock against her asshole. Kissing her spine reassuringly, he pushed ever-so-slightly forward, his tip sinking inside. Taeyeon swallowed thickly as he continued, entering her inch by inch and pausing at little increments to give her time. She could feel his hands on her hips, fingers tight and clenched as he tried to control himself. A strangled groan escaped him.

Little by little, Heechul-oppa advanced until he was fully sheathed inside her and she could feel the heat of his body against her back. His chest was heaving, breath hot against the back of her neck as he panted at the feeling of her clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Taeyeon breathed as her body fully adjusted to the two men inside her. Her head spun – she couldn’t believe it felt this good, just by having them both. They weren’t even moving, and she––oh God. Heechul-oppa thrusted incrementally, gingerly, and Taeyeon’s mind blanked. She couldn’t describe the feeling in words, other than that she had never felt so full, so hot, before. Her entire body was trembling, and it felt like her muscles would no longer obey her if she tried to move them. That ball of pleasure inside her was already pulsing, already on the brink of an imminent explosion, and she needed it to. She needed it to burst.

Jungsoo-oppa was studying her intently for any sign of discomfort, and seemed to be unsure of what to think of her reaction. “Taeyeon?” he asked softly, and she just barely heard him through the haze.

“You okay?” Heechul-oppa’s voice, behind her, was strained and hoarse. “Taeyeon? Can we…”

“Move,” Taeyeon hissed, barely able to get even that word out. “Both of you, just… fuck me already. Please, I need––”

Without bothering to hear the rest of her plea, Jungsoo-oppa canted his hips upward, making all three of them jerk and pulling a gasp from Taeyeon. Following suit with his friend, Heechul-oppa thrust – not as hard as Taeyeon would have liked, but hard enough to have her seeing stars, for her toes to curl and her clit to throb and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. Her moan caught in her throat as the two men repeated the motions, again and again until they had established a steady rhythm, thrusting in tandem with the other so that she was always filled. Her body rocked with each movement, and it was all Taeyeon could do to hold onto her sanity under their coordinated efforts.

Oh my God. How was she supposed to find the words? That pooling heat in her core that was always part of sex was at least twice as searing as it usually was, driving her right to the edge and making her hungry, desperate, for more. Taeyeon’s mouth opened, but no sound except for frantic gasps came out. She clung to Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulders to prevent herself from collapsing entirely, unable to do anything else as that knot inside her became hotter and hotter and tighter and tighter, preparing to give.

“How is it?” She barely understood Heechul-oppa’s strained, breathy whisper in her ear as he rocked into her in coordination with his friend. “To have both of us inside you?”  

It’s – it’s… “So – so full…” Taeyeon gasped, her power of speech nearly robbed. “So… good… ah…”

She sounded so needy, so wanton, more than she’d ever heard herself sound before. It fully dawned on her blank, overwhelmed mind how entirely helpless she was in that moment, how she was letting these two men see her at her most vulnerable. Normally she was so uncomfortable with opening up like this, but because it was Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, two men that she loved and trusted with her life, it only made her feel hotter. A whimper left her at the thought that she could willingly, happily let them see her like this, her inner walls spasming once and clamping down hard on the two men. Below her, Jungsoo-oppa grunted, and behind her, Heechul-oppa gasped.

Together, with that same unyielding partnership that kept Super Junior going for so long, they worked her higher and higher, with low moans and strained gasps and gentle, reassuring hands on her stomach, sides, thighs, arms, all the while plowing into her, ruthless and without mercy. That coil inside her was still growing, still tightening, still burning hotter and hotter, until Taeyeon was convinced it was surely going to give – but somehow, it didn’t, it wouldn’t reach that peak that she desperately craved. Her eyes filled with tears at Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa’s brutal, punishing thrusts, and the dazed thought that there was no chance she was going to be walking properly in the morning flitted through Taeyeon’s head – but then another harsh snap of Jungsoo-oppa’s hips wiped any coherency from her mind completely.

Then it was just physical, her brain putting a stop to anything else in favor of just focusing on the sensations that were crashing over her body with overwhelming force – climbing, climbing, climbing, climbing, yearning for that release that she knew was imminent but seemed to be hovering just out of her reach. The ruthless precision and cooperation of the two men inside her were making her nearly delirious, barely able to remember who she was and how this was happening, and the lewd sounds that were falling from all three of them – the moans, gasps, mewls, the whimpers and the cries – did nothing but enhance that need to be able to get to that peak. Just a little more – just a little hotter, a little harder––

Jungsoo-oppa cupped her soaked, swollen clit in his palm and rolled, the heated skin of his hand rubbing against the nub from all angles. Taeyeon’s back arched as that twisting, burning, writhing coil inside her snapped, without warning and with the force of a train wreck. She came hard, inner muscles clenching wildly, the knot that she’d wanted so much to erupt sending a violent explosion of hot, liquid pleasure throughout her entire body. Her body convulsed in synchronization with the spasming of her walls around Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, and the latter, orgasm triggered by hers, threw his head back, his strangled cry ripping through the pants and gasps to echo throughout the apartment. And that sight, that sound – that must have done it for Heechul-oppa, too, because with two more sloppy, frantic thrusts into her, his body went rigid, his cock twitching, and she felt his seed inside her even through the material of the condom. The feeling of two men coming inside her at the same time made Taeyeon tremble, her own orgasm prolonged as her walls clamped down a few more times around them, gradually getting slower and weaker until they stopped altogether.

Taeyeon raised herself gingerly up from Jungsoo-oppa as Heechul-oppa slipped out of her. Breathless, her body feeling unbelievably light and tingly, she collapsed onto Jungsoo-oppa’s prone, sweaty body in a boneless heap, her chest heaving and her thighs still trembling. Heechul-oppa didn’t bother moving much either, opting to relax right on top of her, squishing her between the two men. For a moment, all she processed was the sound of their panting, the warmth of their shared body heat, and the unreal weightlessness of her body. Her mind was completely blank, any care spared for thought completely depleted.

It must have been for at least two minutes that they just lay there, catching their breath, not saying anything and not really wanting to say anything. The silence was broken by Heechul-oppa’s voice, husky and raw from what had happened just minutes prior.

“That was… something.”

It was one of the few times Taeyeon had ever heard him sound at such a loss for words. An amused huff escaped her. “You could say that.” She glanced down at Jungsoo-oppa, whose eyes were cracked lazily open and staring at her. “Sorry. I should probably get off you.”

“You’re fine,” Jungsoo-oppa murmured, his gaze switching to his friend, sharpening to a playful glare, “It’s him that’s the problem.”

“What’s the matter? You love it when I lay on top of you after a good fuck.” Heechul-oppa’s words were taunting, as per usual, but there was an unexpected softness in his voice. Without another sound of protest, he extricated himself, flopping down on the mattress a little bit away from Jungsoo-oppa. Sensing that he’d left space for her, Taeyeon gave Super Junior’s leader a brief kiss on the nose and followed, pulling herself to the side and wriggling until all three of them were comfortably lying in the bed, her in between the two men.

Heechul-oppa peeled the condom gingerly off his softened member, discarding it in the trash can. After a moment, Jungsoo-oppa did the same, careful not to let any of his seed spill out and get on the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked her softly as she sat up, wincing a little at the soreness between her legs.

Okay definitely wasn’t the right word to be describing her right now (she was much more than okay), but Taeyeon understood his intentions. She nodded, playfully palming his cheek.

“We should clean you up,” Heechul-oppa commented, and Jungsoo-oppa dipped his head to gesture his agreement.

“That’s okay.” Taeyeon didn’t want them to feel obligated. “I can do it myself.”

“Yeah, but I want to do it for you. And I’m sure Jungsoo does, too.” Heechul-oppa’s reply caught her off guard. She blinked, staying silent this time as the two men left the bedroom. They had both already been to her apartment plenty of times, so there was no need to worry that they wouldn’t know where to find the bathroom, or the towels.

They’re walking around my apartment naked right now. The realization, while it should be obvious, only just hit her now, and she had to fight to stop a giggle from bursting through. Not that it was funny, really, it was just altogether odd. But not in a bad way. There was something pleasing about the situation; two of her close friends taking such considerate care of her after their threesome. It made Taeyeon realize, again, what good people Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were. She was glad to be friends with them.

Waiting for the two, Taeyeon wriggled over the mattress and sheets so she could reach over to her nightstand and take out the bottle of birth control pills that she kept in one of the drawers. She knew that Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa had done their part in putting on condoms, but she generally didn’t feel secure after sex without minimizing the chance of any accidents as much as possible, which meant that, on top of her partner – or partners, in this case – having a condom on, she had to make sure she had contraceptives, as well. She took one, screwed the cap of the bottle back on, dropped it into its original spot, and shut the drawer.

Not ten seconds after, the two men returned, Heechul-oppa also with his clothes that had been discarded earlier in the living room. Both of them were holding wet towels. Wondering if they were really, genuinely going to do it for her, Taeyeon stretched out her hands expectantly. Part of her was ready for them to hand her the towels and let her do the somewhat complicated part, but Jungsoo-oppa shook his head. “Let us do it.”

“Yeah. You have to be exhausted after that,” Heechul-oppa agreed. “We’ll take care of it. Please?”

Please. Did they really want to do that for her that badly? It was surprisingly touching. She nodded. “Okay.”

Pleased at her response, Heechul-oppa bent down and gave her a brief but gentle kiss on her forehead, brushing strands of hair away from her face before he pulled away and giving her a mischievous, shit-eating grin. Rolling her eyes, muttering that this was why his nickname was “nutcase”, Taeyeon swiped him away playfully, adjusting herself on the bed to make room for the two Super Junior members. They settled themselves comfortably around her, gently probing between her legs and wiping her wet folds down with the water-soaked towels. The material was warm, presumably from the temperature of the water, and Taeyeon let out a little sigh of pleasure. It felt surprisingly, completely natural, what they were doing. The three of them had always done so many things together, and this wasn’t much different.

Jungsoo-oppa seemed happy at her expression of contentment. That bright smile spread across his mouth, lighting his entire face up and brightening those beautiful eyes. “Does that feel good?” he asked gently, tenderly grazing his lips across her kneecap. Going the tiniest bit breathless at his affectionate display, Taeyeon nodded wordlessly, reaching forward and petting his head. The action seemed to be satisfying to him, if the way he closed his eyes like a satisfied lap cat was any indication.

The two men worked diligently and quietly, carefully, until most of the wetness between Taeyeon’s thighs was cleaned off. “What about you two?” she asked as they confirmed that she didn’t need any more hands. They seemed relatively clean for their part, and her observation was confirmed when Heechul-oppa replied that they’d already washed themselves off.

“Then I’m going to take a shower,” Taeyeon decided out loud. As enjoyable as their threesome had been – and it was enjoyable – she was covered in sweat, unsurprisingly, and she wasn’t going to go to bed like this. Besides, the sheets of her bed needed changing after all that had happened on top of them, and she wasn’t in the mood to do so when she was so unkempt. To put it mildly.

“Want to join?” She was surprised at how simple it felt to ask them if they wanted to shower with her, but then again – it was hard to feel unsure about it when she saw the way their eyes glinted at her question. Taeyeon knew the answer before it was even out of their mouths.

Or rather, they never gave their answers through their mouths, instead opting to let their actions speak for themselves. Heechul-oppa leaned forward and kissed her, a soft and surprisingly chaste melding of lips after what the three of them had just done. On her other side, she felt Jungsoo-oppa place his chin on her shoulder, watching her exchange with his friend as he looped his hand through hers, intertwining their fingers and squeezing affectionately.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Taeyeon said a tad bit breathlessly as Heechul-oppa broke the kiss. Both men smiled.

She usually enjoyed showers regardless, but tonight, with Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa in the tub with her, it felt even more pleasant. It was the first time she’d ever been washed by someone else. Heechul-oppa insisted on lathering her scalp and hair with shampoo, his hands thorough and careful, and then helping her rinse it off with the hot running water. Jungsoo-oppa did the conditioner, gently smoothing through the locks of her hair with the creamy material and then also rinsing it off for her. Taeyeon had always wondered what it would feel like to let someone do such mundane things for her; although she’d not been sure that it would be pleasant for her, seeing as she was cripplingly frightened of ever being dependent on anyone, it was startlingly and wholly comforting.

It was also the first time that she had helped wash someone. She and Heechul-oppa teamed up to shampoo Jungsoo-oppa’s hair, meticulously wiping at his scalp through the soapy locks, and then washing it off with the hot shower water. Not that the effort wasn’t worth it to help him, but Jungsoo-oppa’s soft smile made everything even more worthwhile.

Next, she and Jungsoo-oppa worked together on Heechul-oppa, doing the same with him. After they’d finished that, the two men went back to work on her, lathering her body gently with body wash. Their warm, steady hands on her skin brought a whole different type of satisfaction than the kind they’d given her earlier in the bedroom, and Taeyeon found herself practically melting into their touch, letting them do their work. They were thorough; before she might have thought doing this would be totally awkward, but somehow, it wasn’t.

She sighed in pleasure as Jungsoo-oppa’s hands brushed over the curve of her hips. He smiled at her, that dimple flashing with the upward curl of his lips.

Once the men had finished with the body wash, Heechul-oppa turned on the water again, and they again worked in tandem to rinse her off. They might always say their personalities didn’t match, but their actual actions were perfectly coordinated together, getting the job done efficiently.

After she was cleaned, she helped Jungsoo-oppa do the same to Heechul-oppa, then helped Heechul-oppa do the same to Jungsoo-oppa. And following all that, the three of them took turns with their final rinsing to get rid of any traces of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that might be left.

They stepped out of the shower and dried themselves, patting excess water droplets away with towels. Taeyeon wrung her dripping hair over the bathtub, squeezing firmly until drops were no longer falling down her back, legs, and arms. Next to her, Heechul-oppa was rubbing Jungsoo-oppa’s hair firmly with his own towel, leaving it a chaotic mess but getting it sufficiently dry. Jungsoo-oppa returned the favor, and the result was a white-blonde mop of hair on Heechul-oppa’s head, ridiculously ruffled thanks to its length and the rather voluminous amount of hair that the self-proclaimed Universe Superstar had.

“We’d better get dressed,” Taeyeon commented as they left the bathroom, her making sure to leave the door open to let the condensation of their shower escape. The three of them shuffled down to the bedroom, and Taeyeon slid her underwear on and left the two men to put on their clothes in favor of dipping into her closet in search of something comfortable to put on at home. She found a long-sleeved grey cotton shirt that reached her upper thighs hanging a little bit from the entrance of the closet. Satisfied with the discovery, she slipped it on, pleased when the material settled loosely, not molding against the shape of her body. She didn’t bother to put on a bra or pants – Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa had already done much more than see her naked, so what was the point?

She came out of the closet to see the two men looking around a tad bit awkwardly, wearing nothing but their boxers and showing no signs of trying to put on their other clothes. Taeyeon’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” It wasn’t like they could go back home dressed in nothing but their underwear. She stifled the brief surge of amusement at the thought of what a scandal that would cause. The media would absolutely explode.

“Well,” Heechul-oppa said, a hint of uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice. “I was actually wondering if we could spend the night. I’m pretty sure he was, too,” he added, glancing at Jungsoo-oppa, who nodded a sheepish yes, looking the smallest bit embarrassed to be admitting that he had, in fact, been thinking the same thing.

Taeyeon blinked. Spend the night? She hadn’t expected that. She’d expected them to be on their way as soon as they were cleaned up, their business with each other done.

But it wasn’t like she didn’t want them to stay, either. In fact, it might be nice. If there was anything this night was proving to her it was that many things that she’d thought might be a hassle to do together were actually proving to be rather pleasant with other people. Or maybe not all other people, but they certainly were pleasant with the two men in front of her.

“That’s fine,” Taeyeon decided out loud. “As long as you both brush your teeth. I’ve got some spare toothbrushes – I’ll get them for you. And wait,” she paused, looking over the two of them, “are you really going to sleep in just your boxers?”

“Looks like we’ll have to,” Jungsoo-oppa replied, looking happy that she had said yes. “It’s not like we can sleep in the clothes we wore on the way here.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“Not if it’s us three,” said Super Junior’s leader cheekily. Taeyeon rolled her eyes as Heechul-oppa wrinkled his nose, cringing at his friend’s comment.

Like she’d said, she got out the spare toothbrushes and informed the two men – but not before brushing her teeth herself, as she wasn’t willing to wait until they got around to it. After that, as Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were brushing their teeth, she brought out two spare pillows from the closet and arranged them on the mattress, getting ready for a night spent huddled up with two of her closest male friends.

A brief thought flashed through her mind – she could only imagine how furiously scandalized her father would have been if he’d been alive to hear about this. Not that she would have told him, even if he had been – she doubted she would have told much of anything to that man. He was never a good person to go to for comfort, and she could only imagine he’d be a much worse person to go to with the news that she’d just had a threesome. He’d considered sex before marriage an atrocious fault enough; how much more appalled would he be to hear that she had sex with two men at the same time without even being romantically involved with them?

Still, Taeyeon reflected at she flopped down in the bed, maybe he wouldn’t have let his fury and disgust show. He’d never been someone who let her know his feelings ever since her mother had passed away. For all she could imagine he would probably just have made a single flippant comment about her being out of her mind before hanging up, walking away – disengaging himself with her, whatever that entailed doing.

She was so busy wondering how her father would have reacted – or if he would have reacted at all, that was the real question, she thought with grim amusement – that she didn’t notice Heechul-oppa until he flopped down on the bedside to her left. “You were thinking about something depressing,” he commented as he settled.

“What gave it away?” Taeyeon didn’t bother trying to deny it.

“Not sure. Just something about the way you were looking at the ceiling.” He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up by the elbows, staring at her blatantly. “What were you thinking of?”

The bedroom door, cracked open slightly, opened fully at that moment, and Jungsoo-oppa walked in, closing it behind him. “Yeah, what were you thinking of?” he asked, clearly having overheard the conversation.

Taeyeon hesitated, weighing her words. It was only until after Jungsoo-oppa settled on the bed at her right side that she spoke. “My dad.”

They fell silent. Both men knew about her father – the little she’d told them of him, anyway. She hadn’t had much to say about him because he’d never really revealed himself to her in a way that she could have understood back then. And now, even though she had a better grasp on the person that he had been, it was too late to pin down the full picture. Her father would always remain as he was in her head – someone who was so unbelievably clear after so many years, but simultaneously someone who didn’t even feel like a real person because of how murky and enigmatic he seemed. Taeyeon wondered if that had been his intention when he distanced himself from his children. Had he wanted them to remember him as only half of a full person?

Jungsoo-oppa reached under the covers and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately and bringing Taeyeon out of her thoughts. She was about to look over at him, slightly caught off-guard by the sudden action, but Heechul-oppa leaned over and kissed her forehead with surprising tenderness, letting his warm lips linger over her skin before he pulled back. Taeyeon moved her head from right to left, giving both men confused looks.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“We’re here now,” Jungsoo-oppa said simply. Heechul-oppa nodded.

Taeyeon’s lips curved upward into a small but genuine smile. “Thanks.” Her word was nothing more than a whisper, but there was no way they didn’t hear it, laying right next to her in the bed.

Her sleep that night was unusually deep. And in the morning, when Taeyeon sent the two of them off – but not before kissing both of them on the lips (starting with Heechul-oppa, since he’d greasily been sticking out his lips at her insisting on a goodbye kiss) – she found herself smiling. Small, but genuine.

She wasn’t sure about having the two men over to sleep every night, but she did know that she definitely wouldn’t be averse to inviting them back to her apartment several more times in the future.

[maribatshipper]

Trollhunting Lantern Chapter 1

A/N: This was written down long before Wizards, about two/three years ago, so this is an alternate universe.

“It’s Marnie & Campo, on River 94.9!  We play the best music mix from the 80s till now!”

The song “Hungry Like The Wolf” starts playing as two strange figures fight in the early morning light. Technically, morning shadows. They don’t touch the light.

“Yield, Trollhunter Jim!” One of the figures exclaims.

This figure is terrifyingly tall, has glowing yellow eyes, and a crimson coloured armour all around him, only revealing the glowing eyes. He has a long sword in his right hand the same colour as his armour.

The other figure, who has now been identified as Jim, replies, “A Trollhunter never yields, Venjo! I’d rather die!”

Jim is a tall creature that looks like he was once human. He has teeth pointing out of his bottom jaw, blue skin, horns on the top of his head, messy black hair, blue eyes, and red/black armour on with a sword made of the same material as his armour.

A human female with brown hair, a white streak and hairclips in her hair, reddish-brown eyes and purple armour jumps into the fray.

“& I’ll kill you if you kill him!” She exclaims.

Venjo smirks, “Terms accepted Trollhunter. Flesh-bag! This is not your battle!”

Jim smirks, “I can take him, Claire. Get out of here. Stay with Blinky.”

Claire smirks, “And let you have all the fun?’

Venjo jumps at Claire, who dodges and slams into him with her armour.

She smirks, “I gotta thank Merlin for the armour.”

Jim scoffs, “You’ve already thanked him a dozen times!”

Venjo slams into Jim, causing Jim to come dangerously close to the sunlight.

“Master Jim! Careful!” Another male voice calls.

Jim jumps away from the sunlight and slams into Venjo. Venjo gets thrown across the ground. Jim holds his sword towards Venjo.

“Your reign of terror will soon be over, Venjo!” Jim frowns.

The sunlight touches Jim’s armour, causing it to burn. Jim panics, & Venjo takes this opportunity to kick him in the face. Jim flies away, close to another beam of sunlight, with his sword in the sun. Venjo gets up, ready to run into Jim. Jim reaches into the sunlight to grab his sword, burning his hand. Claire keeps Venjo occupied while Jim shakes the sparks off his hand. Venjo hits Claire away, into the sun, which doesn’t affect her has much as it does the other two creatures.

“There is nowhere left for you to run, Trollhunter! Give me the Amulet!” Venjo yells.

Jim looks towards the circle on his chest. He jumps up a tree, trying to get away from Venjo for a short while. But every now and then, the branches snap underneath his weight. Jim stops and looks around for Venjo, when Venjo hits him from behind.

“OW! That was worse than your breath!” Jim groans.

Claire jumps on the branches too; her weight being supported more than Jim’s and Venjo’s. Venjo pushes Jim close to the end of the trees, where the sun is shining.

“It ends here, Trollhunter. It’s either me or the sun. Either way, you’re doomed.” Venjo laughs.

Claire hits Venjo away from Jim, who is burning.

“Doesn’t matter. The Amulet will find a champion. That Trollhunter will stop you and your schemes.” Jim groans.

Claire gasps as she realises what he’s saying.

“JIM! NO!” She screams as he jumps into the sun.

As he burns, he turns to stone. He smashes as soon as he hits the ground. Claire runs towards Jim’s remains.

“No! No, Jim, no.” Claire cries.

 ***

An alarm goes off at 7:00 playing “Eye of The Tiger”. A girl climbs out of bed. She has brown, curly hair, blue shining eyes, and looks like she’s only 13. She sings along to the song as she gets changed. She slides to the kitchen and cooks herself some scrambled eggs. She sets the table for the rest of her family, with six plates on the table, at six chairs, then she removes a plate. She puts milk, Milo Cereal, oats, and Rice Bubbles on the table. She continues to sing. Her family comes out with a smile on their faces.

“Face to face, out in the heat

Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry

They stack the odds 'till we take to the street

For the kill with the skill to survive!”

A boy slightly taller comes out and yells, “Shut up, Scarlett!”

The girl now identified as Scarlett ignores him.

“It's the eye of the tiger, it's the dream of the fight

Risin' up to the challenge of our rival

And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night

And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger!”

The boy yells, “If you don’t shut up, Scarlett, you’re gonna regret it.”

Scarlett stops, then looks at him.

“You know, if you had taste, and were a proper brother, Nick, you would be encouraging me, not patronising me for being happy. I have every right to be happy. You, Nicholas, should be happy too. But you have no idea what it’s like to be happy anymore. You don’t even know what it’s like to work at Maccas! I had to slave over a grill, a HOT grill, & clean it while it was still on!” Scarlett frowns.

The boy now identified as Nicholas smirks, “How many jobs have you had?” thinking he has the upper hand.

Scarlett retorts, “How many jobs have you kept for more than a month?”

Nicholas stumbles, and two young girls laugh.

“Thank you, little sisters. Now I must be off, to my ACTUAL and real job. Unlike your big brother here, who, A, I didn’t put a plate out for, because he needs to learn to do things himself, and B, is a freeloader.” Scarlett smirks.

Scarlett walks out the door with a satisfied smirk. She grabs her bike and sees someone.

“Hey Greeny!” Scarlett exclaims.

A girl with short red hair, a yellow shirt, blue eyes, and a few bruises rides up and sighs, “What did I say about calling me that? I’m trying to keep my secret, and if you blurt that all over town, they’ll figure it out.”

Scarlett giggles, “No one’s gonna find out, Bracha. When someone calls someone else a Greeny, they think the person is either a vegetarian or a person who cares too much for the environment. Not…”

Scarlett points to a little green ring on Bracha’s right hand.

“I get it. I just don’t like it. What if there are other people who know about them?” Bracha asks.

Scarlett sighs, “It’s fine, Bracha. Talking about Extra-terrestrial’s is all the rage now. People are even going to storm Area 51 according to the internet. They won’t find anything. It’s all been moved to Area 49b.”

Bracha asks, “What makes you say that?”

Scarlett giggles, “It’s what my Arcadian friend Eli told me before he told me that he had to study abroad in Cantaloupia.”

Bracha asks, “Cantaloupia?”

Scarlett giggles, “I believe he actually meant he was visiting an alien planet to be the human ambassador or something. Speaking of, have you visited any new planets?”

Bracha smirks, “Akaridian-5. The species there are made pretty much entirely of energy, and their hearts they call “Cores”, and if someone dies, as long as their core is intact, they can come back to life through regeneration chambers. Or that’s what I gathered from the peace treaty. Queen Aja seems to be a wonderful queen. She recognised me as being human though.”

Scarlett asks, “Are they blue?”

Bracha falls off the bike in surprise.

“How did you know?” She asks.

Scarlett hops off her bike to help Bracha up.

“I’ll show you later. Let’s just say, Eli knows two. He was surprised I was actually sixteen. He swore I was alien.” Scarlett replies.

“Scarlett...”

Scarlett stiffens.

“Did you hear that?” Scarlett asks.

Bracha shakes her head.

“Scarlett...”

Scarlett notices a few rocks. She points to the rocks and sneaks over, as if a snake were going to jump out.

“Scarlett!”

Scarlett gasps, “Rocks are saying my name. If I get a ring from digging in that, and it’s green, I’m requesting to be on your team.”

Bracha makes sure no one is around and whispers, “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight, let those who worship evil’s might, beware my power, Green Lantern’s light.”

A green costume forms around Bracha, and a mask appears over her face. She thrusts her ring towards the pile of rocks and what appears to be a laser goes over them.

“I’m getting an energy reading, but it’s not a Lantern energy. It’s something else. It registered the stones as k-spar.” Bracha frowns.

Scarlett turns and sighs, “Take that off. Someone could see you.”

Scarlett picks up a rock to show a glowing blue object.

“An amulet?” Bracha asks.

Scarlett sighs, “I thought it would be a ring. I was hoping. So I could hang out with you more often.”

Bracha’s green outfit disappears. Scarlett looks up and sees something white in the trees, then it disappears.

“Ever get that feeling you’re being watched, but you find no proof of it?” Scarlett asks.

Bracha nods.

“Let’s go. I’m gonna be late for work. Besides, if something does happen, I’m sure we can fight them off. Or you can.” Scarlett jokes.

The girls hop back on their bikes and ride off.

Meanwhile, above in the trees, a creature with blue skin and six eyes gasps.

“It chose a female human?” He asks.

Claire sighs, “I’ll keep an eye on the green girl. You keep an eye on the new Trollhunter. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be like Jim’s time as Trollhunter.”

 ***

 Scarlett smiles, “Will that be all for today, Ma’am?”

A woman replies, “That’ll be all honey. Too much damage to my account.”

Scarlett giggles and receives the payment. As the woman leaves, someone pats Scarlett on the back.

“Well done, kid.” A guy smiles.

Scarlett replies, “Well, like you said, Jack, at Macca’s, we strive to put a smile on every seat. Correct?”

Jack smirks, “Good job. You going soon?”

Scarlett sighs, “I gotta do some mopping, but I’ll go after that. Red bucket for customer space. Right?”

Jack smiles, “Right again, Scarlett. I’m going on break. Seeya tomorrow?”

Scarlett replies, “Sure Jack.”

Scarlett washes her hands and gets the mop. She mops the customer’s area, and a familiar figure comes up behind her.

“Anything interesting happening in there?” Bracha smirks.

Scarlett rolls her eyes, “Nothing really. I barely even know anyone outside of work. They are all old enough to be my cousins!”

Bracha smirks, “That’s rich. You have, like, fifty cousins. Half of them are much older than you. And they are on your mother’s side. I haven’t even met your father’s side.”

Scarlett smirks, “You & I both, kiddo.”

Bracha frowns, “I hate that nickname.”

Scarlett giggles, “I call everyone that looks young kiddo. Especially if they are younger than me. Like you.”

Bracha sighs, “Alright, Alright. But I still don’t like the name.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes and sighs.

“I’m done my mopping. I have other work to do. Seeya later, Greeny.” Scarlett smirks.

Bracha sighs, “Don’t call me that.”

Scarlett walks away and notices a young girl sitting down with a white stripe in her hair. It reminds her of Disney’s Princess Anna. Scarlett continues walking into the staff only area. She goes into the staff break room, where her workmates are having fun on their breaks.

“Is she still following you around, Scarlett?” A girl with blonde hair asks.

“She’s my friend. I’ve told her she can stay around as long as she doesn’t come into the staff area and doesn’t pick any fights. Besides, it’s safer when I ride home.” Scarlett replies.

A tall guy sighs, “Well, it’s none of my business, but a girl seems to have taken an interest in the two of you.”

Scarlett sighs, “Who, Caillou?”

Caillou replies, “A customer. Her name is Claire. She’s got a white stripe in her hair.”

Scarlett frowns, thinking.

“Could she know? No, she couldn’t know. Or maybe she does know Bracha’s Identity. Maybe that’s why she was looking at us.”

Scarlett sighs & realises her shift is almost up.

“Got to go, guys!” She smiles.

“Seeya later, Strange Scarlett.” Everyone smiles.

Scarlett laughs as she goes & grabs her bag. She shoves a jumper on so people know not to go to her for food now. She signs out & walks into the customer area.

“Scarlett! You ready to go?” Bracha calls.

Scarlett sighs, “Sure.”

 ***

 Scarlett frowns, deep in thought while riding.

“You okay, Scarlett?” Bracha asks.

Scarlett answers, “Yeah... I’m fine. It’s actually about a customer. I’ve been told she took an interest in us. She had a white stripe in her hair. Funny thing, I could’ve sworn I saw her in the forest, but no one was there.”

Bracha stares at her ring.

“Well, maybe the ring went haywire and didn’t see her.” Bracha suggests.

Scarlett smiles, “Well, we gotta split now. Seeya, Bracha. Good luck with the GLs.”

Bracha smiles, “Call me if that thing does anything.”

The girls split up and go to their separate houses. Scarlett opens the door and walks in.

“Hey, Scarlett!” Her father smiles.

“Hi Dad! How were the busses in Brisbane today? Anything special?” Scarlett asks.

Her father says, “Just your normal day. There were a few grumpy customers. I met a weird old man. I think he was at a costume party. He had armour on.”

Nicholas comes in and says, “Hi, Michael.”

Scarlett gasps, “That’s Dad to you!”

Michael sighs, “I’ll deal with it, Scarlett. How about you tell your mother about your day?”

Scarlett smirks. She knows not to get her Dad angry. She walks into the loungeroom.

“Hi Mum. How was Joshua today? Did he give you a hard time?” Scarlett asks.

Her Mum says, “Not really. He was actually quiet today. And you know that’s hard for your brother.”

Scarlett nods.

“Hey, Heather, where are the Wasabi nuts?” Michael asks.

“In the pantry!” Heather answers.

“I’m gonna put my stuff away.” Scarlett smiles.

“Alright honey. Your dad and I have to visit someone. Can you take care of your sisters tonight?” Heather asks.

Scarlett answers, “Sure Mum. As long as Face-ache is gone before you go.”

She walks to the room she shares with her sisters.

“Scarlett’s home!” The youngest exclaims.

“Hi, girls. Oriel, did anything happen today?” Scarlett asks.

The girl with sandy blonde wavy hair replies, “Sophie wanted to hang out. But since Nicko’s here...”

The girl with straight brown hair growls, “I really want to-”

Scarlett sighs, “Crystal, I know what you want to do, but it’s not that simple. If he hurts you again, do all you can to fight back. Just use a broom to whack him. By the way, I’m in charge tonight.”

Crystal frowns.

“Ring-ring-ring, Ring-ring-aling. Ring-ring-ring, ring-ring-aling. Get your phone! When someone calls. Get your phone!”

Scarlett answers the phone.

“Hello.”

“Has it done anything yet?” Bracha’s voice asks.

Scarlett sighs, “Nope. Nothing yet.”

Bracha asks, “You’ll tell me when it does something, right?”

Scarlett giggles, “Yes. Should I Pinkie Promise to ease your worries?”

Bracha sighs, “Alright.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes, “Cross my heart, hope to fly, Stick a cupcake in my eye I will tell you when it does something.”

Bracha giggles, “Thanks. I’ll ask tomorrow. Got to report in for the corps.”

Scarlett smiles, “Got it, Bracha. TTYL!”

Bracha hangs up.

“She still a Lantern?” Oriel whispers.

Scarlett’s sisters are the only other people that know about Bracha’s secret.

“Of course. It’s rare to be fired from her job. She’s still one of them.” Scarlett smiles.

“Girls!” Heather calls.

All the girls run towards their Mum.

“It’s time for us to go. Scarlett, you’re in charge while we’re gone.” Heather smiles.

Crystal hugs Mum & Dad first and gives them both a goodbye kiss. Oriel gives them a goodbye hug.

“What? No kiss?” Michael asks.

Oriel exclaims, “Yukky!”

Everyone giggles. Scarlett gives them a hug & a kiss.

“Seeya later guys.” Scarlett smiles.

Michael and Heather walk out the door. Scarlett’s sisters almost immediately run to the TV. Scarlett pulls the Amulet out of her pocket.

“What exactly are you?” Scarlett whispers.

Suddenly, all the girls hear a crash in the basement. They see Joshua is sitting on the couch. Crystal and Scarlett grab brooms and Oriel stays with Joshua. Scarlett opens the door and walks down with a torch in her mouth. Crystal stays behind in case something comes up behind Scarlett. Scarlett holds her broom like one would a katana.

“I hope it’s not snakes.” She mumbles.

She goes over to a pile of boxes and looks behind it. She notices strange footprints on the floor. Meanwhile, something comes up behind her.

“Lady Scarlett!” It exclaims.

Scarlett turns as fast as she can and whacks the creature with the broom. She now sees it has six eyes.

“Ow… Master Jim wasn’t so violent on his first encounter.” It comments.

Crystal comes down and goes to hit it when Scarlett grabs Crystal’s broom.

“Before we start attacking, and sorry, it was instinct, what are you?” Scarlett frowns.

The creature smiles, “I am Blinky. A troll. And you, Lady Scarlett, are the Trollhunter.”

Scarlett and Crystal exchange glances, look back at “Blinky”, then laugh. Blinky frowns in confusion.

“Sorry, Blinky. We just had to get that out of our system.” Scarlett smiles.

Crystal grips the broom again and goes to hit Blinky. Blinky winces when Scarlett grabs the broom, again.

“As you can see, Crystal’s prone to hit things that she doesn’t understand. I have adapted after living with her for thirteen years. Now, better explanation please before she hits me.” Scarlett asks in a deadpan voice.

“You have to fight evil trolls.” Blinky replies.

Crystal seems happy with this answer, then runs upstairs.

Scarlett sighs, “I’ll grab a mattress.”

She pulls a mattress out from behind some other boxes and puts it near the stairs as Crystal pulls Oriel and Joshua downstairs. Joshua acts like nothing’s different, and Oriel screams, promptly fainting on the mattress.

“You need to go before my parents get home. Either that, or get another beating, only from my mother. GET!” Scarlett orders.

Blinky leaves.

 ***

 Scarlett throws water on Oriel, and Oriel gasps.

“What was that for?” Oriel coughs.

Scarlett replies, “Simple. You fainted after seeing a troll. Crystal’s fault. She showed him to you. If I end up hanging out with him, getting rid of evil trolls, you two have to cover for me. Especially you, Crystal.”

A knock is heard upstairs.

“Mum and Dad!” Crystal gasps.

Scarlett orders, “Not a word. Oriel, shower.”

They run upstairs. Scarlett prays it’s not Nicholas. Oriel runs to the bathroom and the others finish running to the door. They open the curtain to see-

“Nicholas. I jinxed it!” Scarlett mumbles.

They open the door and scowl.

“What are you doing here, you monster? Didn’t Dad tell you that if you’re not back before Eight, don’t come back at all?” Scarlett asks.

Crystal growls in a growl that sounds like a lion’s growl.

Nicholas scoffs, “You’re not Dad.”

Scarlett feels her face go red in anger when suddenly, Crystal jumps on Nicholas and pulls his hair out, little bit at a time. Scarlett stares in shock when Oriel comes down, shower finished, and stares, slack-jawed.

“Is Crystal…?” She asks.

Scarlett nods, “Uh huh.”

Oriel pulls Scarlett’s phone out and records the ordeal.

“This is going to be awesome.” Oriel smiles.

“What is going on here?” everyone hears a voice asks.

Oriel stops the recording and hides the phone while Heather and Michael stare at Crystal and a boy that looks like a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing.

“What did you just do?” Heather freaks out.

Michael just stares in shock.

“Uh… Mum, Dad, He had it coming for eight years. She’s done enough for both of us.” Scarlett sighs.

She pulls Crystal away from Nicholas and takes both of the girls to their bedroom, and collapses on the floor.

“This day went from normal to the craziest day I’ve ever had in my sixteen years of living. And I bet this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

 ***

 Nicholas comes back from the hospital, with his face and left arm in a cast. Heather walks upstairs and sits on the bed.

“I’m very disappointed in you girls.” Heather sighs.

Crystal frowns, “I’m sorry Mum. But he deserved it after all that he did to us!”

Scarlett keeps quiet, feeling ashamed.

“I know, but it wasn’t right. I know you have… issues, honey, but you should not do it. Scarlett, I know you were in shock, but please, take her off next time.” Heather frowns.

Scarlett nods. She walks over to the window and stares out.

“I understand Mum.” Scarlett frowns.

“I hope you all will be more responsible in the future.” Heather sighs as she walks out.

Oriel facepalms, “I can’t believe we let this happen.”

Crystal frowns, “Not my fault. He had it coming for years!”

Scarlett just continues staring out the window, a blue glow emanating from the amulet she now has in her hand.

“We have bigger fish to fry now. Like what showed up in our basement.” Scarlett whispers.

The girls stare at Scarlett.

“So, what do we do, Trollhunter?” Crystal smirks.

Scarlett giggles. It’s funny how her family can be upset and angry one second, then can be happy as Larry the next.

“Well, first, I need to find out more about this thing. It seems to be connected to Blinky. I have a plan.” Scarlett smiles.

Oriel frowns, “What are you doing?”

Scarlett whips out the phone.

“Hi, you’ve reached Bracha. Unfortunately, I am unavailable at the moment, but I will call you back as soon as I can. *Beep*”

“Hey, Bracha. Big news. I have to tell you something in person. One question I have to ask though. Ever heard of a Trollhunter?” Scarlett says into the answering machine.

 ***

 Scarlett looks at her glow-in-the-dark watch and sneaks out the window. She looks at her sisters as they put pillows under her blanket. Scarlett gives them a thumbs up and walks as far as she can down her yard. Living in the middle of nowhere gives you a fairly big property to live in. She stops near the dam. She never goes this far from fear of snakes. Especially at night. She looks at the Amulet, which is glowing blue. A language comes up, which Scarlett finds familiar. Maybe Japanese or Chinese. It changes to another language, and another, then English.

“For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is Mine to command.” Scarlett reads.

A few blue lights start going into the left side of her chest, and she floats into the air. Armour appears around her, which is slightly bigger than herself. The Amulet is right where the blue lights went. The armour glows blue, then changes its size so it fits perfectly.

“Awesome. Now my sisters will want one.” Scarlett laughs.

She holds out her hand and as another blue light goes into her hand, putting a sword in her hand, only slightly bigger than she can hold. It drops to the ground, making her groan in pain.

“I hope it works for this sword too.” Scarlett sighs.

The sword slightly shrinks to fit Scarlett’s muscles.

“Much better. So this is what that guy meant.” Scarlett giggles.

She waves the sword around and gets it stuck in a tree. She relaxes, then the armour and sword disappear, and the amulet falls onto the ground.

[kaemulti]

(this is for the like five people who liked my post about me writing this 😤✊🏾and i have an AO3 account but i don’t want my kpop fan life and my non kpop fan life to clash right now so hopefully i can post the chapters for this fic here. i hope i’m doing this right, i literally got tumblr like a month or two ago so pls be nice 💀💀)

DEADLY DANCE:

—————————-

Story Summary: Korra Kuruk is an eighteen year old agent of The Air Temple Agency that has been tasked with bringing a rival company’s top teen agent to justice for her crimes. Korra, code name Water Tribe, must figure out what the true identity of the elusive Metal Bender is and what heinous acts her villainous agency is currently planning. How will Korra handle finding out her target is the one person she least expected and what will she do when that same person needs saving?

Deadly Dance : Chapter One : Little Miss Perfect

Kuvira shut her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath through her nose until it filled every inch of her lungs. She slowly let it out once she couldn’t take in any more oxygen and opened her eyes with new determination, deep breath centering her thoughts and calming any nerves that might be lingering. She could feel the whole room’s eyes on her, whole class practically on the edge of their seats as they watched her prepare for the final part of the combination. Kuvira smirked, an evil, sly smirk that would have easily given away her true personality if any of her peers were actually that observant. Fortunately, they were all far to enthralled with her movement, eyes widening as she extended her arms and raised her head. A beat, and she was off, turning and waltzing like she was floating through the air as the music rose in volume. She could feel the sweat running down the sides if her face, causing her skin to itch, but she couldn’t care less, she was electric right now, practically on fire as she completed all the steps without a hitch. Her face never broke from the innocent and vulnerable look of the character she was playing. Her limbs were long and free, passion practically seeping from every pore as the combination came to a close. She ended the fouetté sequence flawlessly, face refusing to show how increasingly uncomfortable her pointe shoes became pain an afterthought to the captivating performance she was seconds away from nailing. With one last turn, she took her ending position, chest slowly rising and falling as the music faded away to silence.

“Absolutely fantastic as always, Kuvira! Everyone please give her a round of applause.” The teacher said enthusiastically, smile wide as she praised her best student.

Kuvira smiled softly as she bowed for the applause from the class. The praise was cut short as the third period bell had rang, meaning they had spent their five minute time period for changing back into their normal clothes watching Kuvira complete the combination.

“Oh, spirits! That’s the bell, sorry I kept you everyone! Hurry and change, those of you headed to lunch should be fine but I’ll write slips for anyone who is going to a class period! Hurry, hurry! Great work today!” The teacher said as her students scrambled around the room.

Kuvira quickly dropped to the floor, hastily taking off her pointe shoes and shoving them into her dance bag. She jogged to the dressing room and begun to change, ripping off her constricting tights and deciding to exchange her bra for her leotard to save time. She finished pulling her skirt on and adjusted her turtle neck, haphazardly slipping on her sneakers as she rushed out of the door.

Luckily for her, the lunch room was only a couple doors down, unluckily for her however, she didn’t pack a lunch and waiting in the line is known to take half of their lunch period. She pushed passed some students in the hallway, raising the tone of her voice to give half hearted apologies as she did so, not that they knew that of course. When she finally made it to the lunch room she scanned the area for the table with her friends, smiling once she caught sight of them.

Being at this school was her least favorite thing ever so the fact she had actually found a couple people that cared enough to talk to her had been a blessing.

“Nice job today, Kuvira!”

“You totally owned that combo! I wish I could dance like that!”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

The praises weren’t new to her so Kuvira simply offered a smile and a couple thank you’s as she reached the table.

“Well if it isn’t the swan princess herself.” Wing teased as she sat down.

“Haha, very funny, Wing. I told you not to call me that when we’re not in practice, especially because we aren’t even doing that ballet this year.” Kuvira said light heartedly as she pulled out her makeup compact.

“My apologies, Great Uniter.” He said with a bow and smirk. The Avatar ballet had been widely requested by everyone in the dance department and Kuvira was beyond happy when she got picked to play the avatar’s ultimate rival, The Great Uniter.

“How was class?” Baatar asked shyly, barely making eye contact with her as he did so.

“It was fine, my feet are killing me but ballet is my second favorite dance class so I don’t mind.” She replied sweetly as she put on her eyeliner.

“I’ll never understand how you can do that so flawlessly, are you just perfect or something?” Wei asked as he practically inhaled one of his spring rolls.

“I wouldn’t say “perfect”, just skilled.” She lied, adding a sharp tail to the liner. She was playing a character right now and, sadly, acting cocky wasn’t in the script.

“I just don’t get how she got here so fast!” Korra panted, placing her backpack on the floor as she slumped on the table. She had gotten lost in the sea of people all trying to get to lunch on time from dance and had to race to avoid the hall monitor.

“Maybe you’re slower than you thought.” Mako joked, offering her part of his sandwich like he always does. He loved Korra to death but that girl was so frantic she basically forgot her lunch three times a week.

“Must you bully me after I almost got trampled in the hallway, again?! I’m hurting.” She pouted, taking her half of the sandwich from him and eating most of it in one go.

“Maybe if you actually started telling Mrs. Xiao when you have five minutes left of class you’d be here on time.” Asami smirked, not even looking up from her chemistry homework to tease the panting girl.

“I would have but she was too busy watching Kuvira prance around the room.” Korra said with her mouth full, rolling her eyes as she thought of the older dancer flawlessly completing that day’s combination.

“I’ll never understand why she gets under your skin so bad, Kor, she’s literally an angel. Honestly, I don’t even think she’d hurt a fly if she had the chance. Besides, you guys are rivals in the ballet, not real life.” Bolin said, blowing on his noodles to cool them down before sucking them up violently.

“And I don’t see why you don’t, just look at her! Being the center of attention every chance she gets.” Korra pouted, gesturing to the girl doing her makeup in her small hand held mirror a couple tables down.

“Are you gonna leave your hair like that the whole day?” Huan asked Kuvira, face contouring to a grimace.

“Shoot, (spirits, she wishes she could’ve cursed) I didnt even notice, thanks, Huan.” She said, placing the compact down so she could dig through her bag for a brush. She always forgot to take her hair out of her ballet bun and Huan, being the guy who was absolutely incapable of staying out of other people’s fashion choices, never let her forget. Kuvira still remembers how she had to force a smile and act like she didn’t want to bust his jaw that one time he said she looked like a snob when her hair was up.

He was right of course, but it still annoyed her.

Kuvira pulled out the brush she was looking for and set it on the table as she started removing the bobby pins from her hair. She smiled a bit to herself as she got the last one out, her favorite part was next, letting her hair down as she felt everyone watch.

She let the bun unravel as she gracefully shook her head, long, dark waves cascading down her back, almost reaching her butt. Honestly, she needed a trim, she’d have to remind Unalaq to make time in her schedule to get one.

Kuvira picked up the brush and ran it through her hair just enough to make it look neat but not enough to brush out the waves. She could feel several eyes on her, both male and female, as she did so. Kuvira wasn’t oblivious, despite how she acted as her character, she knew she was way above average in looks and she liked the eyes on her, craved them even. She opened her eyes and smiled as she caught Baatar looking at her.

Kuvira liked catching him watching her the most because she knew he’d never have a chance with her, no matter how much he wanted one.

“Looks like the line is shorter now, I’m gonna go grab lunch.” She said sweetly, quickly whipping her head around to eye how many people were still waiting in the line. She was fast enough to identify ten sets, five more than last time, of eyes on her before they frantically looked away as she searched for eye contact. She stood up and flipped her hair, strutting to the lunch line with an innocent smile.

“Ok, but it’s not her fault she’s gorgeous, Korra, that’s hardly a reason to hate her.” Bolin said, back at their table, pulling Korra out of her daze as she watched the older girl strut to the lunch line.

“I never said I hated her, she just...bugs me...” Korra replied, crossing her arms with a huff. Ever since the first day Kuvira had transferred to their school something about her seemed too good to be true, leaving a nasty taste in Korra’s mouth when interacting with the older girl.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on her, Kor.” Asami said, finally looking up from her, now finished, homework to quirk her brow at the pouty girl.

“Wha-no. No! I do not have a crush on little miss perfect, sprits!” Korra said, annoyance clear in her voice as she furrowed her brow at her friend’s accusatory tone.

“Whatever you say, you should really just ask her to the formal in two months.” Mako said before he drank from his water bottle.

“I will not! I don’t even like her like that. Tui and La you guys are impossible!” Korra said, standing up from her seat and heading to the lunch line—because she was hungry! Not so she could stand next to Kuvira, she had more dignity than that thank you very much.

“Hey, Kuvira! How are you today?” Ms. Li, one of the lunch ladies said sweetly.

“I am great, Yuyan, thank you for asking. How about yourself?” Kuvira replied politely. That was one thing Unalaq could never shake from her, her manners for people less fortunate than she was. She had spent a lot of time talking to the school staff when she first got this assignment, she would tell her bosses it’s so she could find her target quicker but that was all a lie. To most, she might be considered to be on the wrong side of history, even if she thought that was nonsense, but that didn’t mean she was soulless. She only wanted the best for these people, why would she be cold if she didn’t have to be?

“Well, I could be better, these kids really don’t know how to say a simple please and thank you. It, um, it gets to you sometimes, you know? But, hey, I guess it could always be worse. Thank you so much for ask—Oh! That reminds me, me and a couple of the other lunch ladies made this for you, since you are such a big help around here.” Ms. Li said, reaching behind her to grab a small chocolate cupcake before handing it to Kuvira.

“Thank you so much, it looks delicious.” Kuvira said, accepting the sweet treat and placing it on her tray with the rest of her food.

“Of course! Anything for our favorite student. Congratulations on getting the part of The Great Uniter by the way, we look forward to seeing you shine!” Ms. Li smiled.

Kuvira smiled brightly as she punched in her lunch number, swiping her school card quickly. She appreciated the praise and she new she deserved it, but too much of it could make her uncomfortable. She said one more thank you to Ms. Li and headed back to her table.

As she was walking however, she almost ran right into someone who was clearly not watching where they were going. If she had been anyone else, her tray would’ve went flying, along with the items on it, and there’d be a huge mess, luckily she wasn’t anyone else. She was Kuvira, member of the Metal clan, the most highly trained spy organization in the world, and she’d be damned if she let her special cupcake get squashed. She easily spun around the person, gracefully hoping one of the railings to catch her airborne tray, every single item she had purchased returning to their places. Well, all except her juice box, which was still airborne, about to land on the ground behind her. She whipped her head back around and made a move to catch it but instead saw her onstage rival, The Avatar, played by Korra Kuruk, hopping the same railing to catch the juice box before it hit the ground, her own lunch items fully intact on her own tray despite the vigorous movement.

“I am so sorry about that! Here, wouldn’t want you to lose this.” Korra said apologetically as she held out the juice box to a wide eyed Kuvira.

As soon as they made eye contact Korra seemed to have picked up on what had actually happened, her own eyes going wide as Kuvira snatched the juice box from her hands.

Before either of them could say anything, the pieces finally falling into place and their initial shock quickly flipping to furry, the fire alarm went off, blaring loudly in everyone’s ears and causing several people, excluding Korra and Kuvira of course, to flinch in their seats. They had been trained better than to get startled by a sudden noise.

“Ok, ok, everyone please grab your phones, and I mean only your phones, and exit the building!” One of the lunch monitors said, ushering kids out of the back entrance so they could head to the field.

Both girls glared at each other, breath heavy in a rage as they did so, before going their separate ways to their respective tables. Kuvira grabbed her phone and followed Baatar out of the lunch room, not bothering to look back at Korra. Nobody at her table asked questions, not having been paying attention to Kuvira when she left the table.

Korra however, returned to a table full of wide eyes and slacked jaws, her friends having watched the whole ordeal after Korra bailed at the mention of a crush.

“That was some ninja shit, Korra! Wh- How- When! When did you even learn how to do that?!” Wu asked, most likely coming off of his hall monitor shift to eat lunch with them moments before the alarm sounded.

“Movies. Come on, we need to get outside.” She said, anger clouding her eyes and lowering her voice. Nobody asked any more questions and, even if they wanted to, Korra was already walking away, one foot out of the door

One thing’s for sure, Korra now had more reason than ever to hate Kuvira.

Kuvira was undoubtably the Metal Clan Protegé that Korra was tasked with arresting for crimes against the environment and the less fortunate.

[mamourland]

Kissing Prompts #3 & #23 - Magnum/Higgins

Prompt #3: A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

Prompt #23: A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert/beverage they are eating/drinking.

Rating: G

The Ohana gang was at La Mariana for evening drinks to celebrate, well no one could remember what was the occasion exactly, but they were glad to spend some time together. Everyone had been so busy lately that they haven’t seen a lot of each other for the past month.

 Magnum stood up from his seat.

 “Higgy, would you come help me with the drinks? I’m buying the next round to celebrate the solve of our latest case.”

 Juliet slurped noisily the last of her cocktail from her straw as their eyes met.

 ‘How many drinks did she have? Two, or three?’, Magnum thought.

 Not that she seemed drunk. If there was something about Higgins it was that she could hold her own in a drinking contest. Both Rick and TC could attest to that. For his part, he wasn’t even brave enough to challenge her. And, as she stood up to join him, he noticed that her steps were perfectly steady, even in these insane heels.

 “What’s with you, Magnum? You buying drinks for everyone seems a bit out of character.”, she teased him when they waited to make eye contact with Jeremy, the bartender, once they were at the counter.

 The P.I feigned being hurt by her words.

 “What? I can’t buy a round of drinks for my best friends? You think I’m that petty?”

 She leaned one elbow on the counter to mimic his posture and face him. Magnum nodded at Jeremy when he saw them and gestured a circle with his index finger to indicate he wanted the same order as before.

 “No, not petty, just your usual moocher.”, she told him with a shrug, a huge smile etched on her face.

 He chuckled. Typical Higgins, making fun of him always owing money to his friends when he knew she didn’t really mean it. He was about to reply when he suddenly saw her face fall. Her breath hitched and her eyes widened slightly when she caught sight of something behind him, near the entrance of the bar.  

 He didn’t have time to ask her what was wrong before she gripped his upper arm and closed most of distance between their bodies.

 “Quick, Magnum! Kiss me!”, she whispered breathlessly like she was on the verge of panicking.

 “Whaaa….”

 She didn’t let him finish his thought before she pressed her closed lips against his. At first, he felt frozen, not really sure how to react. Surely, something was going on because Higgins wasn’t one to invade his personal space, let alone kiss him. She wasn’t even that drunk to blame this behavior on the alcohol.

 He didn’t know he had been waiting all along for this kiss to happen before now, when he felt their mouths fused together. He felt a pang in his stomach at the realization.

 He relaxed, not aware at first, that he had been so tense, wrapped his arms loosely around her waist so she could still break out of the embrace if she was feeling uncomfortable. However, she did quite the opposite since she opened her lips slowly to tease him with the tip of her tongue.

 He granted her access to the inside of his mouth and, as soon as their tongues mingled, he identified the sweet taste of pineapple and coconut from her Piña Colada cocktail she had earlier.

 She grabbed the back of his neck and pushed the length of her body against his.

 He moaned his appreciation and forgot all about his surroundings. People and the music all around him disappeared, only Juliet and her soft, delicious lips were on the forefront of his mind.

 A few seconds or half an hour later, it was difficult to be more precise when his brain was as scrambled as it was, someone next to them loudly cleared their throat and Magnum remembered they were at La Mariana.

 They reluctantly detached their lips and when they opened their eyes, Higgins’ pupils were so dilated in arousal that Magnum thought about forgetting the person bothered by their PDA to pin her against the counter and kiss her some more.

 Unfortunately, the troubled man responsible for their break didn’t stop there.

 “Juliet?”, he asked.

 It was amazing how, with just one word, he could convey his state of mind - hopeful and yet devastated at the same time.

 Higgins briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath to recoup. At the same time, Jeremy slammed a bucket full of ice and beer bottles in front of Magnum and, when the P.I turned his head to look at him, the bartender addressed him a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.

 Oh God, they made out in front of everyone, hadn’t they?

 “Steven!”, Juliet exclaimed and he could tell she didn’t mean the enthusiasm she put behind the name.

 She disengaged herself from his embrace to face the man and Magnum deplored the loss of her body against his.

 “I thought it was you but I wasn’t sure since I couldn’t really see your face.”, the mystery man sarcastically declared as he eyed Thomas.

 ‘Steven’ was taller than Magnum by a couple of inches but was as thin a string. His hair was dark blond and cut properly. He was dressed in a neatly pressed light blue shirt, that was enhancing his assorted eyes, and beige slacks but both items were at least two sizes too big and the poor man was swimming in them. He seemed to be in his late thirties. He was quite unremarkable, so much that Magnum wouldn’t have been able to point him out in a line-up if he had to.

 Juliet sensed the tension between the two men and took the lead in the conversation.

 “Oh, I’m sorry! Steven, this is my boyfriend Thomas.” She looked at Magnum, her eyes silently telling him to go along her little story. “Thomas, this is Steven, you know the nice bank manager I told you about the other day.”

 “Steven, yes of course!”. He extended his hand to shake Steven’s hand who tried but failed to crush the P.I’s fingers.

 Boosted by the win against the bank manager, Thomas took his role as Juliet’s boyfriend a little too seriously when he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. She stumbled into him and he knew he would pay for that later, but he couldn’t help it, he was having too much fun. If she demanded that he kissed her in front of her bank manager, there must be quite a story there.

 “What can we do for you Steven?”, he asked smugly.

 “Oh, I just came to say hello to Juliet and maybe ask her if she saw any other unusual activity on her bank account.”, he babbled nervously.

 Magnum frowned.

 “You had suspicious activity on your bank account, babe?”

 Juliet couldn’t help herself as she rolled her eyes at the moniker.

 “Yes, Honey Bear. Remember I told you the other day?”, she smiled sweetly when she uttered the ridiculous endearing term. “But you were in front of a baseball game so I guess you weren’t listening to me.”, she sighed.

 Magnum debated between wanting to up the game of the silliest nicknames they could find for each other or just laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

 “I’m always listening to you, Sugar Plum. You’re the most interesting person I know”, he crooned as he gazed at her lovingly.

 Higgins cleared her throat before turning to face Steven again.

 “No, it’s ok. All is good now. Thank you for your help the other day.”

 The bank manager beamed as if he was told his birthday and Christmas came on the same day this year. Magnum guessed the man developed quite a crush on Higgins and she was trying to escape his advances by making him play her boyfriend. The P.I swore to himself he would follow her the next time she went to the bank. There was no way he would let this schmuck think he had the slightest chance with Juliet.

 “It’s no trouble really. It’s my job.”

 “Well, it was nice running into you, Steve.”, Magnum declared as he tried to end this conversation as soon as possible.

 “It’s Steven, actually.”, the bank manager corrected.

 “My bad.”, Thomas said, not sounding sorry at all.

 “Have a good evening, Steven. And I’ll call you if I see something suspicious.”, Juliet told him politely.

 With that, the blond man took his leave and exited the bar.

 As soon as he was out of sight, Juliet extricated herself from his embrace and punched his arm hard.

 “Ouch! What was that for?”, he complained loudly.

 “You didn’t have to take advantage of the situation.”, she scolded him.

 “Oh, that’s rich! I believe it was you who begged me to kiss you and then literally assaulted me!”

 “Get over yourself, Magnum, it was just a tiny kiss.”, she stated, lifting her chin in defiance.

 He scoffed.

 “A tiny kiss you say? How come I know exactly what your cocktail tasted like then? Don’t tell me you kissed your grandmother like that, Higgy?”, he chuckled.

 Juliet’s face reddened at his words and Magnum held back a grin. Apparently she enjoyed their lip-lock as much as he did. This piece of information pleased him immensely.

 “I guess I got caught up in the moment.”, she said in a low voice, trying to justify herself.

 Magnum bend over slightly so their faces were inches apart.

 “Don’t worry, Higgy, I liked it too and believe me, we’ll do it again soon.”, he assured her in a smooth voice.

 With that, he left her flabbergasted as he grabbed the bucket of beers and joined the rest of the Ohana who were all laughing at their misadventure except for Kumu who was watching them with a knowing smile.

[ladyhearthkeeper]

Please tell us more about how you were raised like a Victorian lady. I would like to be accomplished too.

Hello :)Thank you for your ask. I will try to answer it the best way I can.

Well, the main thing is that in my education more emphasis was given to building my manners, broadening my mind and my taste for art, music and literature, religious obligation rather than a career.

This is a quote from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen that expresses what I mean by accomplished like a victorian lady :

“No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

So these would be more of the superficial (yet important elements) of what makes a lady accomplished.

To that, one needs to add a foundation. A proper victorian lady was raised as a believing woman. This provided her with a space to work on her soul but also provide kindness to her community and those in need.

Even though I use dear Jane Austen to explain this, I think Margaret Hale from Elizabeth Gaskell’s North & South is a better example. Examples help us find what we want to work towards.

Now that we have a framework, here is more about me…

I was encouraged to read all kind of books, in any genre. Back when I was a teen YA wasn’t really a thing so I read proper books. YA are nice but they are not enough to broaden a young mind. I mostly read classics but I didn’t stop at that. Books were my best teachers. Later, when I realized that I wanted to become more ladylike I even read guides written in the 19th century for young ladies. You can found them at the Project Gutenberg. Books like this one.

It helps that I studied literature, with a particular interest in 19th century novels. Victorian ladies were well read and had a lot of knowledge. So I think it’s important to choose a good subject to study, not as a mean to earn money but to broaden your scope. It doesn’t have to be frilly, it can be science, technology etc. The goal is to learn more.

I joined the choir (I regret not knowing an instrument but I would like to remedy that one day), took painting classes since I was a kid, and learned how to embroider, sew, and crochet. I still eagerly learn new skills. Activities such as these also helped me to have a sense of what is beautiful. Of course, I was also taken to the museum and to concerts, and taught about nature. Learning to attune your sense to beauty is important.

The more you learn how to do, the more you become accomplished. To take the time to learn something new, gives you patience but also substance. Especially if you dedicate yourself to the mastery of a skill or a subject. 

Contrary to what one may think, these ladies did not lack depth nor intelligence. It wasn’t only about knowing how to hold a smile.

I’m lucky to be from a culturally diverse background. It gave me the opportunity to learn many languages but also about how to identify different types of social cues in different cultures. All this to make sure I keep my behavior attuned to those of around me and not make them uncomfortable. If you know about someone else’s culture or background you know how to make them feel at ease.

So yes, knowing how to hold herself in society is also part of what makes a lady accomplished.

I was taught by my mother how to behave with others, especially men. It’s about having a sense of propriety. How to receive people and to honor invitations. How to hold a conversation. But I learned more from observing rather than actually being taught.

I was also taught how to make condolences visits, how to support bereaved people, how to be supportive with people who need help, how to be part of a community. Of course, charity work, volunteering have played a big part in my life too and have given me the opportunity to go beyond my own self. Keeping a good inner life is what gives a graceful quality to our outer behavior. It’s more important to work at being a good person than learning a new skill.

All these things I’ve listed in the previous paragraphs can be explained more thoroughly if you wish. But I wanted to mention them because being a victorian lady is more than being good at playing the pianoforte. Lady Catherine de Bourgh would approve.

Most of these things are drawn from my own religion but they reflect the values of 19th century Britain. So maybe your own ethics can help in the matter.

I’m not a social person, I am more of a wild creature of the woods. But I have been so used to being aware of my behavior towards other people that in spite of my mood, I can keep a serene agreeable countenance. Not always unfortunately but most of the time. So much that one day, after leaving party I told my friend that I didn’t feel social at all and I was glad I was going home and she was surprised because I talked with everyone and remained interested in what they were saying. 

It’s not about being fake (please don’t do that) but of not imposing your mood on others. That doesn’t mean saying yes to everything and forcing yourself to be social all the time, but it’s knowing how to hold your own when you don’t feel like it. It’s about saying ‘ok I don’t feel that great but I’ll deal with this after I’ve honored this social situation and once I’m alone or with intimate friends or family.’

I think deportment is also very important. I was vaguely taught about it (I attended some ballet classes as a kid but I didn’t continue)  I think the practice of yoga has helped me better understand how to use my body gracefully. It’s about understanding how to hold yourself, it flows outwards from your own sense of worth and dignity.

Here’s a good illustration from Elizabeth Gaskell’s North & South :

« And as he looked with this intention, he was struck anew with her great beauty. He had never seen her in such dress before and yet now it appeared as if such elegance of attire was so befitting her noble figure and lofty serenity of countenance, that she ought to go always thus appareled. She was talking to Fanny; about what, he could not hear; but he saw his sister's restless way of continually arranging some part of her gown, her wandering eyes, now glancing here, now there, but without any purpose in her observation; and he contrasted them uneasily with the large soft eyes that looked forth steadily at one object, as if from out their light beamed some gentle influence of repose: the curving lines of the red lips, just parted in the interest of listening to what her companion said—the head a little bent forwards, so as to make a long sweeping line from the summit, where the light caught on the glossy raven hair, to the smooth ivory tip of the shoulder; the round white arms, and taper hands, laid lightly across each other, but perfectly motionless in their pretty attitude. »

This is what I mean about deportment. It’s not about the surface but poise, an inner serenity and openness to the world. 

But, without telling you the whole story, I have to just add that the character described here, Margaret Hale, is not only defined as a lady by her behavior at this party but also by her behavior in times of loss, with people in need of help or even people behaving in an uncouth manner. She is also characterized as a lady in her kindness and generosity towards others. These are key to being a proper victorian lady. For this, volunteering for a good cause can benefit your character immensely.

How to be gentle is also an important thing.

Most ladies had servants but they still knew how to run a house and keep a home. These skills are also important but more tedious to describe.

Those are only a few points that I’m exploring but there are many other things that can be said in the subject. And I don’t think there is just one way to go about it. But reading helps, it can help you identify what you want to emulate and what to avoid. I could give you a list of books that can inspire you if you want. :)

Now, having said all of that, I don’t think I’m an expert on the subject. And I’m far from being a perfect lady. There’s a lot of room for improvement. But when I read those novels I feel like these women were raised the same way I was and I feel understood. I don’t think it’s necessarily how everyone should be. There are other skills that I struggle to learn and that would help me better navigate in this world. Skills that were not necessarily taught to victorian ladies...

I simply wasn’t raised to be a career woman (there’s nothing good or bad about it, it’s just how it is) but I was raised to be an accomplished lady. 

I hope this wasn’t too long, and I hope I answered your question. If not, you can ask again. Thank you for asking I enjoyed replying to this.

I’m sorry for any spelling mistakes or forgotten words. I’ve notice I’m more prone to these recently.

[janexeu]

     though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, JANE MÁRQUEZ is actually a descendent of HYPNOS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-SIX year old DEMIGOD ELEMENTARY EDUCATION MAJOR from NEW ORLEANS, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite SACRIFICIAL & STUBBORN.

( she’s b-b-b-back on her bs : katya ! tis uhm ,,,, a lil bit of a chonk of an intro but ill try 2 b cute w it. any time u wanna yeet jus peep the gif again & forgive me bc Look At Her ! )

POWERS ( more info here )

hypnokinesis  — p much made her a glorified babysitter w lynch-esque wacko dreams. it got stronger naturally as she got older, but jus w herself n eventually the ppl shes real close w. its also gotten a lot better since comin to eonia 

seeing gods in dreams  — she doesnt hang out w em every fridays at tgifs but like ,,, if she had Pertinent Questions she cud smhw make it happen. found out abt her being a demigod at age 10 when she met hypnos

memory retrieval — shes got great memry of her own but bc she knows it can help w grief n all that, shes been learnin in eonia how to do it 4 others if they mayb wanted it

BIO POINTS 

her single ma died during childbirth so jane's been in the foster care system since 5ever. attempts at reunification nvr worked out but thankfully she got real lucky w her group home and foster families. twas stable enough to not emotionally scar her even further but the instability of it all was fosho a big ol’ lot and has influenced her rigidness in sum aspects of her life

she lived p much as a mortal even tho her powers r a lil freaky. never went to camp but it worked out bc all her abilities r internal and cannot be Perceived by others. she had a talk w hypnos abt what 2 do n he mentioned camps but also gave sum monster avoidance tips ( like rarely use ur powers, maybe learn self defense, yada yada ) n she jus ,,, did that so she cud continue livin real normal w the mortals. logistics of camp stressed her out esp bc shes livin w non-family n stuff yk it was All Too Much, miss her w the added demigod stress tyvm

got married at 23 to her childhood sweetums luis, but he ,,, died abt a yr later fr a car accident. coma for 2 weeks n jane p much slept the entire time in his hospital room, visitin his dreams n talkin to him. twas a life support sitch so they eventually decided to pull da plug whch was real sad but like she's processed it 2 da best of her abilities. her powers helped a lot in the coping too n she visits memories of him in her dreams smtms when it gets real sad then shes ok again bc life goes on n life is pretty uwu

bc of her bg round kids of all kinds, shes always been passionate abt em. always takin babysittin/tutor gigs and went to community college so she cud teach n then worked as an elem teacher. only started considerin goin 2 eonia 4 postgrad when she had a student who showed signs n strugglez of bein a demigod. she eventually got to talk to their godly parent 2 confirm n she was shocked pikachu meme, real concerned for all those youngins who hav no clue what to do ! or how to cope ! bc they cant facetime w the olympians lyk she can ! so cue her discussin eonia w luis a lot then a year after the accident, broke out the pro-con list again. took abt *checks watch* another yr til she finally decided to zoom 2 athens but then whoosh she did !

PERSONALITY

yearning ? idk her — shes can be a bit of a take it as is typa chick. can be a lil literal jsksj not dumb but like ,,, def doesnt read into things enuff to pine n long n year yk. some things might def fly over her head. she says Yes To Serotonin in this house. she dk the the mitskis n the sikens n the carsons ; its all mary oliver up in this joint. we just tryna luv life n be grateful folkz

le freak, say chic ! — control freak, that is. growin up in an unstable envi meant shed cling 2 stability n independence, wrvr she cud get it. so when it comes 2 the way she does things, she can be real a heel digger. also bc she has 2 deal w kids yk so it can b A Lot n shes v stern lyk dat. ofc she wont infantilize the eonians .,,,. or will she ? big sis vibes outta control. she means well tho always always means well. itll also b v hard to get her 2 giv up on sum1 bc life ? she luvs it n knows u can too

changes by david bowie — is decidedly skipped on the playlist. she doesnt like change !!! i mean she knows its inevitable but still not entire unavoidable. ever since she got out of the system, shes had a partner n her own way of doing things n its been workin out so why change it yk ? she says time may change me but jokes on u i can sorta trace time 

rip but im different — this goes out to all em whores in this house. she respectz ur hustle but like ,,,, not her thang. girl doesnt even get drunk when she drinks bc she doesnt rlly drink sksjsk doesnt like the taste of it, big baby ! but like she's Lived, its more like. ok tried it, not for me. thanks tho. also for all the meanies in the house, y’all perplex her. shes empathetic n wont show the judgement but smtms shes lowkey lyk .,., ur how old n u had all this goin 4 u n ur still so rotten ? how u actin like a 7yo w a trantrum ? scratch head, make it make sense

at least u tried — dad jokes, bad puns, tries to be big jokester but isn't funny. she's pretty tho so she gets away with it. idk wht else 2 say ur honor. shes the type thatll embarrass u w affection

well that was Awkward — probably sum1 abt her if  they see her actin a Fool bc shes in a foreign sitch or topic. when shes a fish outta water then she can be so ! easily ! flustered ! which is p much her in eonia. shes not new new but theres way 2 much godly shennanigans for her to wrap her head ‘round n sis has never gone to camp so its ice bucket challenge level shock from time to time still w da magics n lore

til death do us part — yknow when death cab for cutie said i knew that u wer a truth i wud rather lose than 2 hav nvr lain beside at all ? how abt when they wrecked me by rudely sayin love is watching sum1 die ? yes ? no ? nywy thats jane 4 ya. if she loves then shes in and if shes in then she is all in, luke danes stylez

was that a vivid enough picture or did i just word vom the same things agen n agen sjksjs jus know shes cute n sweet if a lil frustrating n annoying bc shes stubbornpants mcgee. may or may not have a slight compulsion to help fix other ppl ..,,.. someone set her str8 n tell her fix u by coldplay isnt it !!!  

OTHER INFO 

5′9″ born 4 october 1994, virgo sun n moon

not a freshie ! idk how long her program is but like ,,, lets ignore that 4 now ok jus kno that she been here a while

yogi & boxing enthusiast back at home. hc her mans got real into the martial arts w her when hypnos told her she gotta learn how 2 defend so that was one of their things : bonding by workouts so jane cud protecc herself if need be

her maiden name’s jane fulton. got her mommas surname but the name jane ? thats some jane doe bs some rando picked out for her which she hated at first but then seeing tarzan made her go hmmm, ok bet !

lgbtq+ alliance president ! identifies as pan

she met her late hubbie when they were abt 7ish, real friends 2 lovers cuteness. jane was there for him throughout his entire coming out & transition ergo her passion for the community esp queer kids bc she was That Cis Ally for her mans. wears her ring as a real lowkey necklace now

shes also real passionate abt sleep. will ask u how did u sleep last night p much every day u see her bc ppl spend like half their lives asleep catherine ofc shes gonna ask

her fave thing abt eonia ?  the whole siblings bit. shes had 2 make do w what she got n build a family from scratch so this ? she luvs it a lot let her give u kithes hypnos babies

shes p well versed in the greek thingies but only thru the knowledge mortals gets + dream info. after her realizin who she is, all things ancient greek jus sorta became her niche interest ykwim ? shes not like Super Learned abt it more like ,,, ok i gotta at least make Sum sense outta all this, gotta learn what i can. imagin how embarrassin it wud b 2 see a god in ur dream n then go : sorry to this man. nope. not jane, not her, nuh-uh 

luv languages : words, acts of service, physical touch !

useless hcs but she loves disney sfm ok. smtms dresses up as princess tiana for bday parties n shit bc shell do nythin 2 put a smile on the kids n babs faces

ya like jazz ? bc jane surely does ! adores motown & 60s music. nina simone owns her. no one drag peggy lee from 101 dalmatians ! not an important hc but i jus wanted to quote my bubble butt winged bee lover barry

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

children ! infants ! babies !

demigods that make her scratch head damn u live like this ? but also wud knife emoji to protect n care for. shes not the oldest on campus but shes been livin independently p much her entire life so she finks shes got a tight grasp on the myth that is Adulting  

srsly tho the Big Sis vibes is off the charts w this one. shell perserve u dumdums

baddie influencies !

convince her 2 get drunk at a party ! bc she never does. convince her to maybe try drugs ! or go hook up ! do smths impulsive idk jus smth new !

gl tho bc shes not rlly ,,, easily influenced But she can b reasoned w ! in general i fink its just gonna be a fun dynamic if y/m knows how to coax sum wildness outta her or w/e bc thotty yummy theyre hotty yolo rzning jus wont do w this gal. will most likely get argumentative like a big ol momma hen but if u win then ur winning big

Sleep Now or forever hold ur peace !

idk sum1 she helps w their messy sleep ? shes def not super public w it, surely knows her other siblings r Better at it but if  y’all are close, she probs enjoys doin it 4 ya. she runs her hair thru fingers a lot when she does it. like a lot a lot unless u tell her to get lost

lover boi, lover gorl, lover enby !

she can be a lil traditional when it comes to how she views rels. she wants all that meetcute courting bs ! no gender roles tho n u best be sure shes not constantly comparin w her late hubbie ,,, but she jus wants smth magical n 2 be wooed again yk ?

so yea ,,, crushers mayhaps ? sum1 who is tryin 2 woo her ? sum1 she had a meetcute w and now janes got lowkey heart eyes for em ? idk lotsa possiblities but pls keep in mind she is not good at the flirtings so hav mercy on her 

eonia tour guide !

or jus friends who like ,,, constnatly fill her in w all the godly stuff n whatnot. years of not goin 2 camps mean u miss out on a lot ! explore ruins w her n get her info her mortal educ didnt make her privy 2 yk 

head real empty atm i will think of sum n let y’all know when i do, but give us all the conekshunz. friends, enemies, the usual bit, lgbtq alliance peeps, lmk whats up whats done whats cookin we want it all

( shes p much a new muse n da result of me tryna bring in an emotionally healthy kid to this sad sad university. janes in a v good well-adjusted place rn n is my therapy muse bc that other bitch m** is a messy handful. but wbk life aint linear so mayhaps shit’ll hit da fan or one of y/m will ruin her lmfao press f pls ! but also color me eyes emoji bc we love to see it )

[magaprima]

Part 2 Episode 6 Analysis (4/4) i.e the horrendous final Lilith scene of the episode that causes me so much pain it’s took me ages to get around to writing about it

The scene literally starts with her vomiting, and we get the vibe that she has been vomiting for a while and this is coming to the end of it. There’s no score initially, meaning all we hear is her retching, and the lack of score just makes the scene feel as raw as Lilith’s emotions, and it’s only when she starts expressing her feelings aloud for us that the music properly cuts in.

But the fact is we have seen Lilith ‘feast on male flesh’ twice in the series already and we’ve also see her proclaim it proudly and use it as a threat (towards Blackwood). This is not something Lilith dislikes doing, and the fact she does it infrequently and refers to it as ‘feasting’ suggests she views a male flesh buffet as being a treat, it’s something she indulges in, it’s not her regular run-of-the-mill meal. And, though I hate to say it, before she knew the steak was made of Adam, she stated how delicious it was, enough for her to think Adam was an very talented chef for serving that meal. She liked the taste, Lilith truly enjoys this particular feast. The fact that she is now vomiting it all back up, that the thing she openly admitted tasted delicious is now so vile to her she is bringing it all back up, really tells you all you need to know not just about how intensely she felt about Adam, but also about how horrific this punishment was for her. The Dark Lord hasn’t just made her suffer, he hasn’t just upset, he hasn’t just broken her heart, he has made her physically sick. And that is something visceral, guttural and primal in it’s emotion.  

It’s just so heartbreaking to watch that moment, the way she throws up, and when she’s done, collapsing into her own hand. She looks absolutely brokenhearted and in that moment where she’s leaning on the toilet, crying while she covers her eyes with her hand, she looks so small, so hurt, so fragile and so utterly human. She looks so human in that moment. She could easily be the real Mary Wardwell right there if you’d just tuned in. She felt a positive human emotion in her relationship with Adam and now she is feeling a negative human emotion in her loss of him; she is feeling pure, unadulterated grief, and you can just see it’s that kind of grief where you keep going over in your head what you could have done differently to avoid it. This was not a natural death, obviously, and we also know Lilith haa the power to bring back the dead (as she did Mary), the fact she can’t with Adam suggests the Dark Lord’s killing of him, taking of his soul, perhaps, has put him far beyond her reach, meaning it’s a complete death for her. This is not a death that can be undone or fixed, it’s not even a death where she can see the soul herself, it is a permanent, complete death, done with, and it’s that that she’s grieving for as well, I think; the absoluteness of it.

She is genuinely crying here. It’s like a human cry. And I say that specifically, because up till now, we’ve mostly only ever seen Lilith behave outside of the normal human realm of emotion. She reacts differently to things (like how she’s bewildered by Adam’s kindness or how she showed no sympathy for Daniel Webster’s grief; it’s all typically different to how humans react to certain things) but here she is reacting just as any human would. She is crying, she is grieving, she is in physical pain from that grief at a loss of someone she loved; there is nothing more human than that. I mean, you would never see Lucifer have this emotion, or the Plague Kings, or even Caliban etc. But you could see Zelda reacting this way, Hilda, Sabrina etc, because they’re human (well witch-human, which is slightly different if the 13 month of pregnancy is any indication. But the point still stands). 

“I don’t understand...I don’t understand...” When she’s muttering this and trying to find a reason why Adam died, that desperation to find logic and reason in a tragedy is also so tremendously human. I think, honestly, this i why this scene hurts so much; it’s not just the loss and suffering and grief, it’s the fact we’re seeing Lilith be entirely without defence, we’re seeing the human part of her entirely, without cover. 

“How did the Dark Lord discover us?”

Discover us. She is referred to her and Adam as an us. There’s something so tragically romantic and affectionate in that. It’s not ‘how did he discover my mortal play thing?’ it’s not ‘how did he discover adam?’ it’s not even ‘how did he discover i didn’t kill him?’, it’s ‘how did he discover us?’. She is identifying her and Adam as unit, an official couple. It wasn’t Adam that was discovered, it was the both of them. They were happy, they were leaving for Tibet and they were discovered. Even though he’s dead, she’s still speaking about him through couple-language and that’s just heartbreaking. Added to the way she holds the ring and repeats that it should have hidden him....she calls herself a grieving widow in the next episode, and you can’t deny this is exactly how she sounds in this moment. The fact she’s wearing black like a funeral outfit only adds to the effect.

The only moment her sadness disappears from her expression is when she realises what happened and she looks at Stolas. And you can see how it doesn’t take her long to get to that conclusion and you know how certain she is that she’s right, and it’s the kind of certainty that comes from knowing betrayal. Lilith has known disloyalty and betrayal so much that she knows she’s right when she looks to her familiar as the culprit. 

And it’s while she’s confronting Stolas that we cut to a bird’s eye view shot (interesting pun of a choice, perhaps) and we see how Lilith is sat. She is just on the floor, in the corner, with her legs just out. There’s none of her usual grace, elegance, sensuality, sexuality, none of it. We’ve only ever seen Lilith sit the same way she stands and walks; with purpose, everything in place, utter sensual perfection, always on, never wavering....but here there’s none of that, all of that glamorous air she maintains is gone. She is utterly vulnerable and broken on the floor, with no care for how she looks. Again, it emphasises that look of humanity in her. 

“You’ve been reporting back to the Dark Lord ever since he brought you back to life, haven’t you?”

This is a really horrible thing for Lilith to realise. Her familiar, the one she has called her trusted companion, who has been with her since the very beginning and (according to the passion play) even before she met the Dark Lord himself, has chosen the Dark Lord over her. He decided loyalty to him was more important than Lilith’s happiness. It’s the ultimate betrayal; she knows Lucifer pulls some serious shit, but Stolas is meant to be someone she can rely on, someone who is loyal to her no matter what (familiars are bound to their witches, after all) and yet he is the one who brought about this utter heartbreak. And, by the way he stands on the ledge and replies to her, we presume he feels justified in his actions, that he wasn’t forthcoming with any apology. She has discovered that not only does the Dark Lord not care what she wants and decides things for her, but so does her familiar. Even her own familiar doesn’t honour her or her wishes. This is her oldest friend, they’ve been through highs and lows together, they’ve presumably fallen out and made up (I sometimes wonder if killing him has been as much a pattern as Zelda killing Hilda was) and yet when the cards were down, he chose her abuser over her, and prompted the killing of the person she loved....and then doesn’t even have remorse over it. 

It’s another loss and I think that shows when she screams and causes him to burn to ash (which, side not, is an extreme display of power. So much so that in the Part 2 trailer, they edited that moment to mislead us into thinking Sabrina made it happen as they say ‘she keeps getting stronger’ so even the writers and editors know that that is as bad ass as it’s gotten so far in the show. That moment does remind us just how freaking awesomely powerful Lilith is) and she cries again. No, actually, it’s more a wail. Because in that moment of destroying Stolas permanently, with no chance of resurrection, it’s confirmation that she has lost both Adam and Stolas in one foul swoop. It’s two deaths (though Stolas’ is more death by betrayal than by his literal death). She thought she was surrounded by people who cared about her, she probably felt her life was very full and supportive, and now suddenly there’s nothing; she’s lost the person she loved and she’s lost her oldest friend, all in the space of an hour basically. 

And then after that expulsion of loud, raw grief, Lilith turns to her natural instinct; plotting. She rallies herself, she takes strength in a plan, and I think it’s so interesting that her plan isn’t ‘kill the Dark Lord’ it isn’t even ‘Lead a coup’, it’s a plan to make him feel the pain she feels, because to Lilith, right now, that’s the worst thing you can have happen to you. She is feeling such grief and agony she can’t imagine anything worse to suffer, to feel what she’s feeling would be worse for the Dark Lord than death (though as I said above, I doubt Lucifer can feel this sort of raw emotion, as he was never human). 

“But the Dark Lord doesn’t know all. He’s not omniscient. He’s not omnipotent. Which means...he won’t see what’s coming next”

Our first hint/foreshadowy reminder that Lilith knows the Dark Lord’s weaknesses. Everyone else in the show refers to him as their God, they speak of him as knowing everything, that he’s everywhere, that he answers everyone, that you can’t hide from him etc. But we see hear that Lilith knows better, that Lilith knows he can’t see everything and that he can only be in one place at a time. She has been with him since his fall and she knows both his weaknesses and limitations. She’s able to plan around that. 

When she decides to wear Adam’s ring, not only is this her making a conscious decision not to forget him but to keep him in her mind (and her heart?), but you also see her consciously decide which finger to put it on. She could have put it on her right hand, or on her middle finger of her left hand, but she actively picks the ring finger of her left hand. The wedding finger. Lilith knows what this means, and as I said, she calls herself a widow in the next episode, and here Lilith is consciously, purposefully and willingly choosing that designation for herself. This ties into what I need to write about on a bigger post, about how she was created in the Garden and her core being in those early days, has an effect on her choices and reactions even today, because she was a wife in the very beginning, that’s how she started out, so there’s a sense of coming full circle on her own terms here, that in the Garden she was forced to be a wife, but here she’s choosing to be one, because this Adam earned it, he earned her love and mutual respect, while the first Adam didn’t. 

“He took away the one thing I loved. Now I’ll do the same to him”

The fact there is no denial here, no room for interpretation, this is full, out-and-out confirmation that she had fallen in love with Adam, which is not only impressive considering her general disdain and dislike towards mortal men, but it also shows Lilith has a huge capacity for emotion and affection and love, reminding us that she’s not simply a demoness, but something much more complicated and nuanced, and it also shows us that she’s not closed off. People can win her over, she isn’t closed in her heart or her mind, she does listen, she does consider, she’s not static in the way she is, and she can grow and change and experience new things. And I think this moment is one where she changed irrevocably, the Lilith we see from this moment on is not the same Lilith we’ve seen since Part 1. And you do see, in future episodes, how she reacts differently to situations to how she did in the beginning (for example, when Sabrina fails to tell her Lucifer is free and says ‘I had other things on her mind’ Lilith does not get hateful, she doesn’t even attack Sabrina for it, and then when Zelda turns her away, Lilith does nothing more than insult her, whereas she would have once actively plotted her downfall and/or murder).