#miss candy era so much

[buhlladeer]

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanart #exo #exo fanart #baekhyun candy #drew this for his birthday this year #these particular teaser pics with the lipstick and the balloon were my favourite #miss candy era so much

[auecho]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY ೀ kafka & blade ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‘oh girl, don’t hold back - let it out!’

𝓦ARNINGS ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ fem!reader - threesome - drug use - dubcon [themes] - slowburn - ft. jing yuan - overstimulation - blade has a crush on the reader - cunnilingus - reader is a bit of a pushover - roommate!kafka - ex-stepsister!kafka - sexting - cum eating [?] - creampie - asphyxiation && gagging - praise - grinding - making out - spit - dumbification - kafka is . . kafka - masturbation [f. & m.] - orgasm control - squirting - creampie - mating press - everybody is slightly ooc - not proofread - minors & dark content antis do not interact ! ! !

𝓐UTHOR’S 𝓝OTE ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ hihii first full fic ^3^ n first post ! ! so welcome 2 my acc,, m name is echo n i’m pleased to meet u 🫡 eek ‘m so excited, i’ve been sittin n workin on this idea for a while so i hope u enjoy it ! i listened to kiss land by the weeknd writing this and i think it fits rly well sooo >_o this is dark content so viewer discretion advised ! please don’t read if not ur taste T_T im posting this later than expected m soo sry :c reblogs n feedback very appreciated cuz the guidelines r gna get mi < / 3 ! !

𝓔CHOES ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ kiss land , the weeknd - valentina , daniel caesar - fill the void , the weeknd - sdp interlude , travis scott - the worst guys , childish gambino & chance the rapper .

𝓦ORD 𝓒OUNT ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ 20.7k+

SHE CARRIES A distinct scent with her: cinnamon, champagne…and a twinge of mischief. It flurries in the air and infects your brain like the plague. She had this certain cadence about her: an aura drawn up in a slick figure and even slicker tongue, characterized by a sultry red color. That was Kafka. She's a bombshell, delivering a traumatic shock that you can only hope to forget. You tried to forget — tried to cloud that era of your life to no avail. She kicked down the rock blockade you'd built, welcoming herself into your life again with an impressive amount of effort.

“Elio said she has nowhere to go! She can't stay with him because he moved into a one-bedroom after the divorce! She's about to be couch-hopping at 22 — it’s sad!!” your mother whined. Her emphasis lay on certain words, pathetic tones emanating from the manipulation of her words. You're weak, standing hunched with a backbone made of cotton candy. “But, mom—” “And she begged Elio not to bother us—bother you—but he did it anyway because we’re always family. Family needs each other, family depends on one another.”

She'd pestered a yes out of you, and since the syllable passed through your lips, you've been counting your blessings.

After all, Kafka was an all-devouring curse: blessings were her kryptonite.

Exactly one week later, you bit your nails anxiously and breathed deeply so much so that you got lightheaded. It's been years, she may have changed, you comforted yourself. Your mind worked on its splintering tooth and nail to soothe your wild imagination. Kafka was always going to be Kafka — it was just a matter of whether she developed or if she enabled perversion.

When she engulfed you in a hug you almost passed out smelling her again. Hearing her was another thing, seeing her was even worse. Smelling her — that warm, spicy scent that burns but entices was the pinch to reality you needed. In the flesh, Kafka stood. In all of her menacing glory - ready to flip your world upside down.

“Missed you, little mouse. Ugh, how’ve you been?” you fought the urge to shiver. The nickname and her ever-tickling tone — God, you weren't prepared.

“Good,” is all you muttered. ‘Way better before.’ you wanted to add.

“Mmm, good, I'm glad. I got nervous when Mom said my baby moved out all alone.”

My baby. You could really just…die. She was just as charismatic as before. Possibly even more, given her blatant maturity. You would think it was a play on your age, but truly it was endearment from her: her form of caring for you.

“Who would've thought we’d be living together again? We’re gonna have so much fun!” In the giggle that slipped from her throat, lies mischief. She picks up a box out of the trunk, turning on her heels with the biggest, most Kafka smile ever. She was always…unique in her definitions of fun. One could only imagine the roller coaster you were riding.

When you make your way to your apartment, you just breathe. Breathing is the only thing that can stabilize you. The jumble of nerves that bounce around inside of you relaxes at your exhales. You're not shaking anymore, or feeling your skin heat and clam up, making it easy to lead Kafka into her room.

“Oh, wow. All this space, all alone? You've really grown up, little mouse.” She compliments with a sigh. The box in her hands now sits on the ground. You flush, dusting your hands on your shirt, “Oh, thanks. Mom helps from time to time.” Even though you would much rather have your independence.

She looks around at the space, the room occupied by nothing except a naked bed and an empty dresser. It's an awkward 30-second silence before she breaks it, “Thank you, again. You're really saving my ass,”

And again, you're wrapped in Kafka’s arms, forced to awkwardly pat her back and stare at the wall across from you as if it were to save you. “No problem…again,”

The hug you share births goosebumps on your skin. Her hands glide across the small of your back, nimble fingers dancing lightly across the surface. The tickle is the least of your worries — the blooms of heat that surge in her wake are what blows your eyes wide open. Kafka’s hugs are tight and warm. Almost comforting if it wasn't for the way she ghosted her lips over your ear just right, making you tense. You hate it because it's something you've grown used to. You like it a lot more than you probably should, actively leaning into her touch after a few seconds.

“We should probably get the rest of your boxes…” You mutter. Kafka sighs, pulling off of you slowly. It's almost as if she's savoring the feeling of you in her hands. “I’ll get them. I shouldn't inconvenience you more—”

“—It’s fine. I don't mind helping,” She laughs and squishes your cheeks between her fingers, “You're too cute.” booping your nose for emphasis.

And she couldn't stop saying it. It almost felt condescending the way “You're so cute,” fell from her lips every time you did something. Your out-of-breath huffs or triumphant sighs elicited the remark again and again as you hauled her luggage up to your apartment. You gave up by the last box and stretched out on her floor, and Kafka only laughs harder as she begins to unpack.

“Do you want me to help you?” You groggily breathe out. Moving is exhausting, and you're not even the one moving.

Tucking the sleeves of the shirt as she folds, Kafka shakes her head no with a chuckle. “You can help me by showering. I'll finish up and order some food, ‘kay? Consider it my thanks.”

“But you've already thanked me—” “—And I'm doing it again.” She cuts you off. Your eyes meet and she cracks a smile, “C’mon, up you go. The longer you take, the longer you have to wait to sleep.”

Kafka is someone impossible to argue with. You swipe your tongue over your teeth to fight off a smile…but her gaze is warm. It makes you nervous in the weirdest way, and your lips stretch wide. Defeatedly, you nod, “If you say so.”

ೀ

The sun retired for the night and in an hour, you'd showered, dressed, met Kafka in the living room, caught up with a shot or two slipped in the mix, and dug into the XL pizza she ordered. It was your favorite toppings—you were shocked, to say the least, that she remembered.

“Enough about me,” She grabs hold of the conversation, placing her plate down on the coffee table—and you hide the cringing your face defaults to with a crooked smile and nod. “What about you? How was finishing high school? Starting university? Is Mom still…Mom?”

You awkwardly giggle, placing the plate in your lap. “The answer to the last question is yes. She's never changing, I fear.”

“But…I've been good, really. I keep saying it but it's true; grades are good, friends are good, and Mom is as good as she could get—” more laughter, “—but, yeah. I'm not traveling like you, Kafka. I barely leave my apartment unless it's to go to class. I'm stable, and I'm good. Nothing to tell.”

Kafka eyes you critically as if she's trying to read you. There's nothing to find because as you said, there's nothing to tell. You've always been the stickler goody-two-shoes type: abiding by rules and expectations and never deviating from your white-picket-lined path. It wasn't perfect, and never always good, but it was enough. Enough that you could say with your whole chest that you're okay with being boring…because, well—it’s all you've really known.

She walked into your life as your sister at eleven and walked right back out at fifteen. In four years, you'd been enlightened to a dark side of the world, but you were always too timid. Kafka was a playful cat, ready to paw at her sheepish little mouse until you played back.

Back then, you were too young, and under the palm of your mother to enter rebellion. Now, you're free…somewhat. Kafka was determined to help you spread your wings. She was going to plant the seed in your ear and let it sprout: “It’s your world,” She says. “isn't it about time you live? The way you want to? You're a big girl now — you deserve a story to tell.”

She can tell by the widening of your eyes that the conversation is bordering on too much. “Uhh, I don't know. I'm happy right now—”

“Happiness is temporary. Memories are forever.”

And while she makes a good point…what exactly would you do? How?

Her head tilts and her eyebrow lifts tentatively. She wants to ask how far are you willing to go, but the conversation is far too premature. “It all depends on you, little mouse,” is what she settles on instead. “I’ll be ready to lend a helping hand when you need me.”

The conversation takes a thoughtful pause. Your head seems to fill with thoughts and returning to her now chilled pizza, Kafka pats herself on the back. You're going to spread your wings and flourish, and she prides herself on giving you the route. It's only a matter of time, she thinks. A matter of time before the real fun emerges.

“Oh, by the way,” she interrupts the silence, “do you mind if I have a few friends over tomorrow? They wanna throw me a housewarming party.”

“Um, no, it's fine. My study group is coming over tomorrow after my classes so try maybe before? Or after that—we won't take long.” You miss the deviousness in her smirk.

With a final bite of her pizza, she nods. “Of course.”

ೀ

Jing Yuan is so charming.

He flashes you a Cheshire smile and you find yourself stumbling over your sentences. You palm your face, embarrassed, and let out a shy giggle. His deep chuckle follows and you almost don't want to look at him again.

Fu Xuan kisses her teeth and rolls her eyes. “Lay off the flirting, would you? Can't leave you two alone for a second...”

She joins the pair of you at the end of the courtyard, golden eyes narrowing. There's an awkwardness that creeps up, and you smile nervously while Jing Yuan scratches his neck. He displays a coy smirk that you avoid looking at — opting to rock on your heels and check in the distance for Yukong.

You and Jing Yuan are classmates; friends, even, if he were to agree with that sentiment. Though your crowds don't particularly mix, you find some comfort in one another. Albeit, most of your time is spent tutoring him. It's nice, nonetheless.

You're not opposed to liking him—in fact, you're smitten with him—but you doubt the feeling is mutual. He's Jing Yuan and you're…you.

His question reaches your ears, breaching your train of thought: “Is Yukong still joining us?”

The way he turns to you makes you shy, and you shrug in place of your words. “Umm, ‘dunno. She said so, but something must’ve come up.”

“Well, in any case, let’s just head to yours. She has the address.” Fu Xuan replies exasperatedly. Jing Yuan shrugs, “If that’s okay with you?”

You perk up at his kindness, and Fu Xuan groans, rolling her eyes. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” With your eyes glued to Jing Yuan’s pleased smile, you miss how Fu Xuan mocks you.

“Can we go now?!”

The three of you quickly commute back to your apartment. It's a nice fifteen-minute walk—even nicer when Jing Yuan let you talk his ear off the entire way. Fu Xuan was paces ahead of the two of you, grumbling under her breath about how she should've said no and cursing to Yukong for leaving her with you.

You've been studying together for a while, but you've never brought them over. Your sessions usually take place at the campus library or the local cafe, so to say you're a bit nervous is an understatement.

Not only have they never been over, but you have Kafka. She’s a wildcard and you can only pray that she's on her best behavior.

Your key spins in the hole and you push the door open. Over your shoulder, you mutter, “I think my…sister’s home so she might come and say hi.”

You hope that's the most that she’ll do.

Upon entry, there's a potent, herbal smell floating around the air. It's slightly smoky, and your throat tightens up. You turn around at your guests and cringe at their upturned noses and scrutinizing gazes. “Uhh…”

“Wait right here…um…” you murmur. You don't wait for their responses before speeding toward Kafka’s room.

The stench is stronger in the hallway and her music is even louder. The bass jumps through the floorboards and you doubt she’ll even hear your knocks — but you do it anyway. Knock knock knock.

No response.

You bounce on your heels nervously, peeking out and seeing Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan talking awkwardly by the door. Your nerves overcome you and you hurriedly knock again. “Kafka! I need to talk to you — Kafka!!”

You keep knocking on the door until the music stops and the door swings open. A cloud of smoke hits you immediately and you fall into a coughing fit, waving the smoke out of your face. “Good God…”

“Oh—my bad!” She laughs at you, turning over her shoulder to her friends and sharing the amusement. Her heavy-lidded eyes fall back onto you, and she leans on the door for support. “What do you need, little mouse?”

“Um…” you look over her shoulder and see her guests in her room. A silver-haired girl rests on her bed and types away on her phone, and a black-haired guy sits on the floor - his low eyes on you as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. You didn't know what to expect but you aren't surprised. You're more…uncomfortable. “Um, yeah — my study group is over and it smells like…yeah.”

Her eyes widen and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “That's right now?! Oh, I'm sorry—Silvie and Bladie came over early and I didn't know you’d be back so soon.”

Silvie and Bladie…interesting names.

You nod to her response. “…Yeah…I don't mind you…smoking or whatever but please open a window? It's very strong and it travels and I don't want the landlord to throw a fit.”

“Yeah, of course. Bladie!” She calls out over her shoulder. The guy—Bladie—doesn’t respond, but only perks up. “Crack open the window, yeah?”

And he just…complies. You're almost amazed at how he just listened and pushed the glass open, the cool evening breeze drafting into the bedroom instantly.

Kafka turns around as though it is normal. “There we go,” She giggles.

“Thanks.” You mutter, nodding your head. She winks at you as she shuts the door. You hear her shutting down a remark made by…Silvie and a barrage of laughter.

You make your way to the door where, thankfully, Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan still stand.

“Everything alright?” Jing Yuan asked. He immediately turns to face you, and suddenly your good mood sparks back up. You nod, “Mhm. She has a few friends over too but…I’m sure it won't be too bad.”

You welcome them in, all piling into your living room and crowding around the dining table.

Jing Yuan pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on the table. “I did awful on the last test…” he informs, presumably going back to the gradebook. “55%…”

Fu Xuan bursts into laughter. “No wonder you need both of us to help you study! Good lord!!”

You ignore her teasing and pull out your books. “What do you need help with?”

She's quick to cut him off, “Clearly everything if that grade is anything to go by…!”

“Xuan, stop!!”

Her laughter continues, and Jing Yuan waves her off. “The musings of a jealous nobody don't affect me,” and now it's your turn to laugh. “I'm here to get help so I don't mind going through everything. If you're okay with that, of course.”

“It’s fine, yeah—I’m fine with that! Um, let me just get my…” You trail off, sifting through your bundles of papers in your folders. You try to ignore the burn his gaze lays on your skin. He props his head on his fist as he leans on your table and God, does it make you feel special.

Fu Xuan bites back at his remark, “I'm not jealous and I'm definitely not a nobody! Watch your mouth, Jing Yuan!!”

And now it's your turn to internally curse Yukong.

“Here we go!” You pull out the review packets you made yourself — something you pride yourself on. You lay them on the table for him, eliciting a difference in reactions from your guests.

Fu Xuan sees the packets and rolls her eyes, “Only you would make your own review packets.”

And Jing Yuan instead muses at the sight, “No—it��s cool. Resourceful. I like that.”

And I like you, you want to say. You decide to keep that to yourself and only smile in response to play coy.

“This one is from the first couple of lessons, these two were for the quizzes, and the rest are for a few lessons in between.” You inform, pointing at each packet. “I also have some flashcards and some annotations; let me find them…”

“Look, all you need to do is read the textbooks. All the information is in there.” Fu Xuan argues, taking one of your packets for herself and flipping through it. “Do you read, Jing Yuan?”

“I read, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, so do I — but that doesn't help everyone, Xuan.” You snatch the packet out of her hand, laying it on the table. “But whatever. Do you think this will help you?”

Jing Yuan nods, gratefully. He takes a packet for himself, flipping through it. “You mind showing me how you use them?”

And with a flustered smile, you nod, immediately scooting closer to direct him.

You show Yuan your method: using his notebook to write down what he remembers, going back and adding things he didn't remember, and working out everything in between with what's in the packet. Your mother taught you the method during your eighth-grade year after your grades slipped and since then, you've sworn by it.

Fu Xuan uses this time to tease and ridicule him, occasionally aiding with her…aggressive technique whenever he stumbles over a particular concept.

You share some laughs and rambles along the way, and you’re given a side of Jing Yuan you never thought you’d get. He's surprisingly easy to talk to, and you don't know if he's actually that funny or if you're just that into him — but either way, you enjoy it. He makes your cheeks hot and your smile wider.

He’s always been your campus crush — but he’s everybody’s. You're not special but the way he's looking at you makes you feel as such. You hope that maybe he’ll ask you to tutor him again and maybe it’ll just be the two of you. Without Fu Xuan’s teasing and complaints.

After about an hour, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s focused and his attentiveness leaves you and Fu Xuan the time to talk.

You drown out her complaints about the sorority not allowing her in to focus on the presence of Kafka’s friend in your kitchen. She stands on her tippy-toes to rummage through your cabinets, groaning and slamming her palms on the countertop. “Uhh…do you need something?”

The girl turns around, “Food! Where the hell are all of your snacks?!”

“Um…” You don't get to respond. She stomps into your living room, shoving her hand into the bag of pretzels Fu Xuan brought. “Excuse me!!!”

She shoves the handful in her mouth, crunching obnoxiously. “Those are so fucking dry…” She complains, turning back into your kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

Your last Kombucha is taken, popped open, and gulped down right before your eyes. You were going to drink that.

With an unabashed burp, the girl sets the bottle down and turns to you. “Hey, little mouse!”

“That's not my name—”

“Can you order some food, please? I feel like I'm being fucking punished.” And she continues to ramble, “Was I a bad girl? Do bad girls not get to eat?” And she falls into a fit of laughter.

You're uncomfortable. You know Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan must be too. This is just awkward, and embarrassing on your behalf.

“Can you get some pizza? Ooh, no, better yet, chili oil beef stew. Do they deliver that?” No. The answer is no. “Hold on, I’ll get the money.”

She scurries back into Kafka’s room with a heavy slam of the door. The three of you turn to each other, and you nervously laugh. How embarrassing.

“Is that your sister?” Jing Yuan asks. Oh God, he probably feels so uncomfortable.

“No! That's her friend…sorry about that.”

“She needs to pay me for a new bag of pretzels! I don't know where her hands have been and I'm definitely not eating that.” Fu Xuan huffs, crossing her arms and crumpling up the bag. You laugh at how she lightens the mood, but turn your gaze to Jing Yuan who's now focused back on his work. Great. You blew it.

Out comes Kafka’s friend, stomping toward you and shoving some bills into your chest. “Here you go! Keep the change,”

You don't want her change. But you don't protest — instead, you call up Delicacy Pavillion. “Hi, can I place an order?”

ೀ

The walk back to your apartment from Delicacy Pavillion feels like a walk of shame. You're even more ashamed because Jing Yuan decided to tag along and Fu Xuan decided to take her cue and leave. Now you're alone. With him. In the middle of the evening. Picking up delicious food for your ex-step-sister and her friends.

He offered to walk with you—“I don't mind. Besides, what kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl like you go out all by yourself?” You're not strong enough to deny his flattery, and so here you are.

Now that Xuan is gone, you don't know what to talk to him about. Or how to talk to him. You opt to keep your mum, humming a song you’d heard in passing lowly to yourself. Five minutes away and this day will finally be over.

“Are you and your sister close?” He breaks the silence.

You turn to him, “Ah, well — she’s not really my sister. Our parents were married for a while but they divorced now. A while ago, actually. We aren't close but…yeah.”

“Interesting…” He comments. “Yeah…”

“I don't mean interesting in a bad way—I’m interested…in you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“You're interested…in me?” Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest. You can't hide the flattered smile that curls your lips.

He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets and throwing his head back. “Ha, yeah. Of course — how couldn't I be? You're sweet, very smart…” He turns to look at you. Your eyes lock, “…very cute, too.”

It's like he wants you dead.

You immediately avert your gaze, nudging him in the side. “You're just messing with me.”

“If that's what you believe.” He shrugs, a playful grin resting on his face.

Now you don't know what to believe. But you're going to choose to believe that he means it.

“I'm interested in you too.” You sweetly proclaim, unable to wipe the big grin off of your face. His cheeks flush a pretty rose color, and his smile turns coy. The quiet you two fall into is much more comfortable and much lighter, and now you wish that your time with him won't end.

The pair of you make it to your apartment building, and when you stand in the elevator, you avoid his gaze. He watches you through the reflection of the elevator doors, and his smirk grows as he watches you try not to look at him.

He takes a step closer to you and when his hand swings your fingers brush and you almost drop the bag full of food. He knows how to make you flustered and how to make you smiley.

“Cute,” He mutters. He's not the only one who thinks that.

Jing Yuan does the gentlemanly thing and walks you to your door. As soon as you fish your keys out of your pocket, he pulls you into a hug. His arms are big and muscular and so warm — you immediately hug him back and wrap your arms around his waist.

“See you,” He says, rubbing the small of your back. You timidly respond, “See you.”

The smile on your face is prominent even as he walks away. Even as you walk into your apartment, coming face to face with a ruckus you never thought you’d have the displeasure of walking into.

Kafka and her guy friend are planted on the couch, the strong smoke smell clearly following them into the living room. And the girl…she lay on the floor still swiping away — but as soon as you closed the door behind you, she hopped up. “Yes—fucking finally!”

She bolts over to you and steals the bag out of your hand, “Thank fuck!! I'm so damn hungry!!!”

Kafka gets up, her guy friend immediately following. She smiles at you, coming to wrap you in a hug. “Ohhh, thank you, babe.” And she plants a firm kiss on your cheek. You feel the stain of her lipgloss on your skin, and cringe at it, only nodding and smiling as if to say “You're welcome.”

“I’m going to shower and go to bed…so uh, can you keep it down some?” You say, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

They barely hear you and focus on digging into their food. With a defeated sigh, you stalk away.

And with your back turned, the strict gaze on your disappearing frame is missed.

He’ll see you again, though.

ೀ

“I want you to formally meet my friends,” Not even a greeting as you entered the door. A hi, hello, or how was your day? would have been nice.

“Hello to you too, Kafka.” You quip, taking off your shoes and stretching your aching toes.

“Hi, little mouse,” she sarcastically chirps. She places her drink on the coffee table and you try to ignore the lack of a coaster - instead bracing yourself for the embrace she pulls you in. “Mm, you seem tense; your day went okay?”

You nod. Not quite, is the answer you hold on your tongue, swallowing it down and hiding a grimace beneath your smile.

Jing Yuan hadn't spoken to you all day. He didn't even look at you — his attention was focused on Tingyun. Pretty, brown-haired Tingyun with the charming smile and warmest aura…she’s now your competition, and from what you saw today, she’s leagues ahead of you. Hanging off of his arm like it's her lifeline and encapsulating his gaze in the palm of her hand. You almost stormed out of the lecture when her hands brushed his cheeks, her thumb swiping over his beauty mark.

He's just trying to make you jealous. That thought was supposed to comfort you but it made you even more upset. As soon as your professor shut his mouth you were out of there, leaving dust in your wake as you sped toward the library.

You needed to decompress and distract yourself. You were buried in a book when a touch you remembered too well landed on your shoulder. “I was looking for you.” He says.

Looking for me my ass, you think. But the sentiment warms you, nonetheless, and a smile pulls across your lips. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” The tone of his voice makes you want to rip the hair off of your scalp. He's so sweetly condescending, so sultry and you can just get lost in his melody. He's like Kafka that way—wait. Nevermind…

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?” The suddenness of his question has you jostled, and the substance of the question has you flustered. Jing Yuan wants to take you out???

You're mad at him, though. He can just take Tingyun for all you ca—“Of course—er, I mean, sure. Why not?”

Fuck.

He chuckles at your stumbling, burying his hands in his pockets. His forearms scream at you as they clearly come into your line of sight — the image to be cherished and forever forefronted in your memory. Why is every part of him so attractive? “Great. I’ll text you later.”

And he squeezes your shoulder as he walks in the opposite direction. Fucking hell.

You're just pissed off. At yourself, at Tingyun, at Jing Yuan — you hate that he made you giddy and excited and you couldn't stop smiling to yourself even as you walked home alone.

He asked you, not Tingyun. Surely, if he wanted her, he’d be taking her out tomorrow, not you.

“So, tomorrow at…5? Is that cool?”

What? “Huh? Sorry,”

Kafka sighs, “I want you to meet my friends. It’ll be like…totally chill and just cool so don't freak out and think some type of formal meet-the-parents shit.”

“Is tomorrow at 5 good for you?” You’d be wrong if you said no. Kafka is trying. “Yeah, um, I guess,”

“Yay! This wasn't my idea, by the way — they want to meet you,” They do? “Really?”

She walks back over to the couch and plops down, downing a gulp of her pink Monster Energy. “Mhm. Silver wants to know how we could ever be sisters, and Bladie…” She takes a pause, having a short laugh to herself, “Let’s just say he’s taken a liking to you.”

You're confused by her statement but you don't press further. You're not sure you want to know.

“Um…I’m going out tomorrow, so,” “We won’t keep you long,” She shrugs.

Your subtly doesn’t work well—you mean to decline the offer. “Okay then,”

You begin to awkwardly walk to your bedroom, Kafka’s voice following you down the hall. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“I’m good.” You answer back. As good as you could be.

┄┄

With the nth layer of lip gloss slathered across your lips, you break into a smile at your reflection.

You’re pretty.

All dolled up: not a single fly-away or stray, cheek-housed eyelash, flawless base, and a perfectly ironed outfit describe your appearance. You spent the better half of your afternoon in the bathroom shaving, plucking, exfoliating, and giggling to yourself about your date with Jing Yuan.

You’ve never looked better. You don't think you’ve smiled this much in your life.

“You look so pretty, babe!” Yukong chimes. Her eyes gleam over the pixelated image on your phone. “So, what type of date is it? …It is a date, right?”

“Well, he didn't say it was a date—but he asked to take me out. What does that mean if not a date?” It's all semantics. Date schmate; at the end of the day it's you and him together. Alone. “He didn't…discuss the details. All I know is that he’s coming at 5:30 to get me.”

Interesting…

“It’s kinda…sexy. Like ooh, surprise me.” You add, giggling.

Right…

“If you say so…” Yukong sighs out. You laugh, missing the sarcasm thick in her tone.

“Well, anyway, I should get going.” You check the time: the digital numbers read 5:05. You're early, but, hey— better safe than sorry. “Call you later, love you!”

Yukong smiles and throws up a peace sign and ends the Facetime.

The hefty laughter from the other side of your door bulldozes through your silence, reminding you. Damn it.

Another small smile in the mirror and you get up from your vanity. You grab your clutch and walk out and into an atmosphere of laughter and…blueberries?

You wave the scent out of your face, and as if it were perfectly timed, the chatter died down and heads turned to you. Your hand fell to your side and you immediately made eye contact with her.

“Ohh, little mouse!!!” Kafka squeals, dragging out the nickname sing-songily. She skips to you, a hand nudging your shoulder. “Look at you!! Look at her guys!” She turns to her friends, grinning wide.

The pair raise their heads, faces morphing in opposite ways of one another in response. The silver-haired girl takes a brief puff from her seemingly blueberry-scented e-cigarette, “Woww, would you look at that?”

She turns to the guy beside her with an escaping smile, “You clean up nice, little mouse.” She compliments.

You cringe at the nickname leaving her lips, nodding. “Thanks…”

“What do you think, Bladie?” Kafka calls out, one arm pulling you close to her and the other swiping down in a showcasing movement. He perks up instantly and looks completely uncomfortable. He avoids looking into your eyes at all costs.

You feel bad. You tuck your clutch under your arm and raise your hands in defense, “No, no, it's okay. Kafka…you shouldn't…”

“Nope—it’s only right I tease you like this,” She rebuts. Her grin shortens to a smirk and her hand squeezes your arm, pulling you closer. “Mom’s not here; somebody’s gotta be the one to nag,”

It's a good thing your mother is not here. You moved out to get away from her. You only awkwardly laugh in response, shooting an awkwardly apologetic face toward Bladie.

“Uh…pretty,” He comments. “You look nice.”

It's only now that you realize you haven't heard his voice yet. And, woah. Wow.

“U-um, thank you. Ha…” You stumble out, growing flustered at your stuttering.

Kafka laughs, sending a look towards him that you miss. “Anyway,” she diverts, “these are my two companions: Silver and Blade.” She points at the pair respectively and they each emote.

“The two most important people in my life. After you, of course,” She informs, fingers nipping at the fat of your cheek teasingly. “What about Elio?”

She shrugs. “Oh, yeah. Him too,” and she and Silver burst into laughter.

Kafka introduces you to them after the laughter dies down, making sure to include “My little sister,”

“Ex-step-sister-now-roommate,” you correct. Silver chortles at your sass and Kafka sends you a narrowed stare. “You're right. My favorite ex-step-sister-now-roommate: my little mouse,”

“Wait, you mean to tell me you have other ex-step-sisters-now-roommates?” Silver jokes, laughing at her own joke. She slaps Blade on his arm to urge him to laugh along — to which he maintains his rigid posture and awkwardly avoids the scene.

Kafka walks the pair of you into the room, toward the couch opposite Silver and Blade. You sense an immediate switch; almost as if you’d changed realities. The air was suffocating in a way you couldn't understand. It was something deeper than awkwardness, something less juvenile than embarrassment. It was palpable: it hurt to swallow when you gulped nervously.

Silver blows another cloud of smoke toward your face, and when the fog dissipates you're met with the mischief on her face, “Sooo,” she drags, “what do you do for a living? This is a nice apartment you got,”

Small talk. You can do small talk. “Um, thanks! I mostly do tutoring and babysitting. But sometimes my mom helps out.”

Her face crinkles up in confusion. “Tutoring pays for all this???”

You laugh, “You’d be surprised at how much people are willing to pay for good grades. I mainly work with middle schoolers who aren't doing too well and their parents are so desperate. They’ll pay just about anything.” You slightly exaggerate the circumstances of your job. There's only one kid you tutor regularly and you've already begun discounting him because of his relation to Jing Yuan. It's a good thing Kafka moved in — the rent was beginning to look a bit dangerous.

“Ohh, interesting. What a hustler,” Silver jokes. Kafka laughs right alongside her, nudging your side with her elbow. “Fitting right in with us.”

The group bursts into a fit of laughter — even Blade spits out a few chuckles — and all you can do is awkwardly laugh along. You feel like a sore thumb: dolled up in your pretty blue outfit while your roommate and her friends are dressed in sweats and assortments of band tees. They laugh at a joke you don't quite understand and share glances that speak an entirely different language from you.

You want the time to speed up. You're waiting for Jing Yuan to save you from this awkward tension like the knight in shining armor he is and whisk you off to the date he planned.

Getting out of here would be so nice. You won't have to hear them poke and prod and tease and you wouldn't be scared to look left. Blade’s gaze is so intense. Goosebumps have risen on your skin from the sheer atmosphere it induces — is he doing this on purpose? He has to be. Kafka must have put him up to it.

It eases you to think that she’s just being herself: her playful, mischievous, dangerous self. In a week she’ll get bored, they’ll stop messing with you, and they’ll find something else to do. That's the way it's always been with Kafka and it helps you to relax.

But it's his stare. The way his eyes shyly rake you up and down again and again. He drinks in the sight of you and doesn't react — he’s committing you to memory and every time he takes a reprieve, his eyes thirst for more and wander right back to you. Kafka notices it. Silver notices it. You notice it. Everybody but Blade can see the way he looks at you: as though he could eat you whole.

He watches your face light up when your phone buzzes and you pull it out of your clutch. Thank the heavens; it’s Jing Yuan.

‘be there in 10. ;)’ He texts. ‘okayyyy <3 see you!’ You text back. Too flirty? Too excited? Oh, God. He hearts your message and your smile grows wider.

Blade wants to say how he wants to be the one to make you smile like that, but it's too early for that. He’ll opt for admiring you, instead, thinking to himself about how pretty you look grinning so wide and how pretty you probably look with his c—

Knock knock knock. That was fast.

You nearly jump off of the couch to answer the door, skirt flaring in the air as you skip to the door. Kafka watches with amusement thick on her face. You're so cute, a guy like Jing Yuan doesn't deserve you.

The door swings open and there he stands. His hair is pushed into a high ponytail and he’s clad in a simple outfit—but God, does he make it look good. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

His greeting awakens butterflies in your stomach. “Hi…” You reply shyly. He smiles at your nervousness and holds his hand out for you to grab, “You ready to go?” You nod almost immediately.

Before Kafka can open her mouth and trap the two of you there, you announce your departure and leave with a wave, slamming the door behind you. The group all share looks, and her smile can't help but get wider. “She’s so cute,”

“Wouldn't you agree, Blade?” Silver teases. Growing embarrassed, he lowers his head. “Oh my God!” She laughs, hitting the couch cushion. “You totally wanna fuck her!”

Blade doesn't respond. Silver turns to Kafka mouth wide, eyes blown, “He wants to fuck your sister, Kaf!” Don't we all?

Kafka sits in between her two friends, placing a warm hand on Blade’s shoulder. He immediately relaxes but keeps his gaze tied to the ground. “It’s okay, Bladie,”

“It happens to the best of us.”

┄┄

“I’m not going to lie,” Jing Yuan breaks the silence, “I didn't have a clue on what to plan. I just knew I wanted to see you again.”

His flattery is out of this world. He has you feeling so special, so wanted—you turn to look at him and just stare in disbelief. The Jing Yuan is driving you in his nice-ass BMW to a date that he asked you out on. Lucky girl syndrome is so real. “It’s okay, I’m not picky.”

“I like that.” He laughs out. “I like you.” His right hand abandons the steering wheel, traveling to your exposed thigh. His touch is light, tempting. He’s testing the waters, and only does he let his hand rest wholly on your thigh when your breath hitches but you don't stop him. He spares you a glance, a smirk drawn on his face when you briefly lock eyes.

“I think you said that before,” You lighten the mood. Your words sound breathless, clambering out of your throat nervously. “Oh, have I?” His hand creeps upward, now sheathing itself beneath your skirt. His fingers tap on your thighs — he’s teasing, waiting for a reaction.

You hum in response, now gluing your eyes to the dashboard because if you look down, you're going to explode.

“Guess I really have to let you know, then.”

“Guess so,” You respond. His hand only lies on your leg, not traveling any further. He pulls into the parking lot of the movie theater. Not your idea of the perfect first date, but maybe he has more planned.

You get out, immediately locking hands and walking side by side into the theater. He opens the door for you, leads you to the ticket stand, and the hold on your hand never falters. He uses it to pull you closer, letting his arm drape around your waist and his fingers tap along your skin. He’s setting you ablaze, burning you with every gesture he does.

You don't even care about the movie—Sky-Faring Commission 8, you think—you’re too focused on Jing Yuan. He drapes you in his jacket and wraps his arm around your shoulder when you get seated. He whispers a joke to you about the previews and laughs into your hair to not disturb others around you. And when the movie gets to a particularly boring part, he finds himself leaning on your shoulder.

His lips are featherlight as he ghosts over your skin. You act as though you don't feel it — gluing your eyes to the movie screen. You couldn't care less about the melodramatic climax on the screen. It didn't matter to you, it didn't register in your mind as important. He was so close, breathing in your sweet perfume and brushing his lips against your skin when he smiled. Oh God, you subconsciously lean towards him, letting out a sigh when puckered lips connect with your neck.

He places another kiss, and then another - readjusting his position to lead a trail upwards. The kisses grow larger distances as he eagerly travels to your lips. His hand reaches over and grabs the side of your face. You couldn't turn to look at him on your own: filled with too much anxiety and nerves to bear the connection.

Your eyes lock - a desire in his juxtaposing with the shyness in yours. He needed you, leaning in swiftly and collecting a kiss.

His tongue abrasively weaves its way into your mouth, sloppily licking around and tangling with yours. He was so powerful: overwhelming and all-consuming. You could only sit there weakly, trying your best to keep up with him.

Yuan is no dummy. He can tell you're not all into it. You sit rigidly and lack any eagerness to kiss him back.

“You nervous?” He whispers against your lips. His hand on your face slips down to your waist with a comforting squeeze in tow. You crack a smile nervously, “Never done this before. Well, like, in this way…”

He's quick to recover from the twinge of annoyance that surges within him. “‘Ts okay. I got you,”

He leans in, hand slipping to your thigh. It's almost cinematic — the movie flickers in deep reds and blacks as an action sequence plays and your silhouettes form on the wall behind you. He's so close, so tempting that you can't help but take in his words. “I’ll take care of you.” He says. And you fall for it.

And he kisses you even slower, more sultry. There's an enthusiastic flame in his kiss — he just wants you to give it up. Let him take you, let him have you. It's not like you don't want it.

As he kisses go deeper, hungrier with teeth sinking into your lip and lips sucking around your tongue, his hand slinks up your skirt. He plays with the band of your panties, feeling the soft material. His fingers roll and entangle in the fabric, feeling the slight jolt of your hips when his touch caresses your skin.

He shoves his tongue down your throat to keep you silent, pushing his hand further onward and cupping your cunt.

Your thighs immediately crush around his wrist. He’s trapped in your heat, feeling the throb of your clit against him. He bites your bottom lip with a smile as he presses his palm flat against you. The applied pressure to your clit has the bud stiffening.

God, you want him. You want him so bad.

You have to stop yourself from moaning and squirming. You’ll literally die if you get caught.

“I want you so bad, baby,” he whispers, pulling away. He kisses your jawline and rubs his hand against your pussy. The feeling is beyond mutual, you think. You can't do this, though. Not here.

You hum in response to him, fearing that any other response may be too loud. Feeling a premature knot gnarl in your stomach makes you panic and grab his arm. You can't cum yet—and definitely not here.

“Too much?” He laughs against your lips. He tries to sink his arm deeper between your thighs and your hips run away. “‘M sorry. How about we get outta here?

Locking eyes with him has you shyly saying yes. You don't have sex on the first date—Jing Yuan or not.

But your body seems to crave him. To want him and in this circumstance, you can be able to bend your rules. “Okay,”

You quickly exit the theater hand in hand with an unimportant amount of time left in the movie. There was a strange feeling swarming in your gut: akin to a thrill with a tickle of unsureness. You chalk it up to butterflies. It's just nervousness because the dream you've held onto ever since you first laid eyes on him is coming to fruition. You've always wanted Jing Yuan. You always wanted to be his.

He drives the car shortly to the parking lot of a shut-down arcade, parking his car and immediately clambering to the backseat with you. It was like he couldn't wait - like he was going to die without you. It's hot.

His hands immediately grab your hips and his lips overtake yours. He slowly lays you against the leather seats, wasting no time. He's making quick and agile movements: hands slipping under your shirt and cupping your breasts and lips wrapping around nips of skin.

You gasp, arching your back into him. “You're so sexy,” He moans, fondling you messily, needily.

“T-thank you…” You stutter out.

He kisses down to the neckline of your shirt, pushing the fabric up and going under to kiss around your chest. His lips replace his hands, the latter rehoming on your thighs and pushing your skirt up. His lips attach and suck around the top of your boob as his hands pry your legs apart, fingers dancing up toward your core.

You moan out softly. His tongue swipes across your flesh and his middle finger walks through your slit. “You’re so wet,” he comments, pressing your clit down with intense pressure.

A weak whimper dances from your lips and he laughs contently.

He continues to rub your clit while kissing your skin, turning your flames up so high that your body burns to the touch. A sticky sound resonates off of the interior of the car, sloshing grossly as your airy moans attempt to compete with it. Your pussy drips, your hole spasming as he teases you further and further.

You never thought you’d be in Jing Yuan’s backseat about to get finger fucked—and as much as you want to, you just - you can't.

His finger circles your entrance, ever so teasingly and you tense up. You pull away almost immediately, snapping your legs tightly shut and beginning to sit up. “Sorry, I’m sorry,”

Yuan takes a seat opposite from you, brushing his fallen hair out of his face with a huff. He gives you time to adjust your clothes, staring out of the front windshield. He looks…bummed, dissatisfied and you feel terrible. “Trust me, it's not a you thing. I just…I dunno. I'm not comfortable with what I don't know,”

“Nah, it's good. You're good.” He sends you a short smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

And you don't want to worry about it, but you can't not. There's an obvious tent in his pants and a frustration hidden beneath his appearance — you blue-balled him beyond measure and made it awkward. He’s probably never asking you out again.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you offer an alternative: “Wanna get something to eat? My treat.”

Taking a look at you breaks a smile on his face, and he nods. “Why not?”

┄┄

The date could have gone worse.

That's what you tell yourself as you ride the elevator up to your apartment, alone.

He had to go, he told you. “Text me before you go to bed, alright?” And that made you feel better, somewhat. He could have told you to delete his number and never go anywhere with him again, so you count this as a win.

You can't shake the tension, though. It's better than whatever the hell you, Kafka, and her friends had floating around, however, it's just as uncomfortable. The elephant in the room is humongous, but neither of you dare step on its toes. You don't blame him for feeling some type of way, but he shouldn't blame you either, right?

“Welcome back! How was your date?” Kafka questions as you walk in the door. Silver and Blade are still here, the latter on his phone and the former focusing on her strawberry crunch ice cream bar. You wave at Kafka, removing your shoes and remembering you still have Yuan’s jacket. You won't leave it out for it to get dirty with the Three Musketeers running around your apartment.

“It was good,” you reveal softly. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I’m really tired so I’m just gonna go shower and go to bed.”

Kafka nods, waving you off, “Alright; good night, little mouse!”

You get into your bedroom and don't even think twice. Your clothes are stripped off and strewn across your floor but you make sure to place Yuan’s jacket on your vanity. Your hair goes up and your body wraps in your towel, a quick commute to the bathroom across the hall to wash today off of your body.

Warm water splashes over your skin, soapy clouds run down your body as you scrub. You still feel embarrassed — the scene of you quitting on Yuan replays every time you close your eyes. You're mad at yourself because you know you want him, you always have, and you fumbled your opportunity badly. It's embarrassing for you and him. You fear it's an event you can never forget.

Twenty minutes of pouring the stress and dirt and Jing Yuan down the drain and you're finally ready to sleep. Body clean, pajamas on, makeup off, and skin care on, you climb into bed and immediately grab your phone.

‘just heading to bed c:’ You text. You twiddle your thumbs for half a second before you start typing again: ‘i did enjoy our date today btw…hope u don’t get the wrong impression cause i’d love to go out w u again <3’

That’s good. He knows how you feel, you've said your peace and lifted the weight off of your chest. You turn your phone off and rollover. Off to dreamland you go—

Ding!

Your eyes shoot open. Ding! And now you're rolling back over, grabbing your phone, and squinting at the initial brightness.

‘don’t worry abt it haha’ He texts back. ‘it’s my fault, I should’ve asked’

Your fingers press and heart his message, quick to move to the keyboard and begin typing. But before you finish, another text from him rolls in: ‘i’m glad you enjoyed it. it’d be my honor to take you out again’

You silently cheer, kicking your feet under your duvet. ‘i’ll be holding u to that’

no need already planning our next one

whatre u thinking?

that takes the fun out of it if i tell you dw i won’t make you wait long

He's flirting. You're flirting. Even through text, he has you running in circles looking for a response. What do you say? What do you say?!!

good c; don't wanna wait to see u again

‘me neither’ He starts typing, then stops. Is it over already?

The typing bubble pops up again, and in seconds, his blue message fills your eyes: ‘u mind sending a pic?’

Suspicion doesn't address you—instead a feeling of confusion. Where is this conversation going…?

im in my pajamas lol so not sexy

doesn't have to be, you make something sexy plus the kind of pjs a girl wears tells you all abt her

does it?

mhm

Damn it. You crawl out of bed, turn your lamp on, and step in front of your full-length mirror. A loose-fitting shirt and small house shorts. Nothing extravagant or appealing — just extremely comfortable.

Five attempts at a flattering mirror selfie later, you finally land a picture that satisfies you enough. Immediately to Jing Yuan, it goes, paired with the message ‘what do mine say about me?’

You sit back on your bed, criss–cross applesauce as you wait for his response. Three minutes later he likes your message, ‘says you're cute’

that’s it?

He responds quickly. ‘not sure if you wanna take it there haha’

You're not sure either. ‘try me’

It takes him a minute to start typing again — presumably needing to take the time to make a conscious decision before he embarrasses himself…again.

‘Attachment: 1 Image’ You immediately click on the image, zooming in only to be met with his bulge. Black boxers stretched around a fat tent in his pants with his big hand resting on top of his lap.

His next message comes in seconds later, ‘says you drive me crazy and need me there to make you feel good’

And the next one…‘it's hard for me to control myself lol’

i just get so turned on by you

Oh. He's taking it there.

‘me too’ You have to send the text with your head facing the other direction, nearly jumping out of your skin with the confirmation swoosh sound.

‘i don't usually get that wet btw…’ You inform. It's a bit of a half-truth; you haven't slept with that many people to gauge how wet you can truly get but you're almost positive you've never soiled your panties like you have today.

He hearts your message and immediately starts typing.

oh rly? what abt now? still wet?’

If the way your thighs are pressing together is anything to go by, the answer is a very enthusiastic yes.

yeah want u so bad

You don't sext — you've never done it before and you are awful with your words. You're nervous despite the wave of boldness that's overcoming you. This is escalating fast, bordering territory you've never crossed.

You should've just gone to bed and texted him the following morning. You should have kept it innocent and not pushed him further. You've opened a can of worms and now it's time to reap the consequences. Fuck.

let me see

Double fuck. Maybe triple. Possibly quadruple.

How the hell are you supposed to show him???

You immediately hop up and move your mirror, repositioning it to stand parallel to your bed. Should you turn the light off? Maybe you should.

You jump onto the bed in the darkness, slithering off your shorts slowly, giving yourself time to stop and preserve your dignity. God, you can't believe you're doing this, you think, setting yourself in the most awkward position to show the wet spot painted on your fresh pink panties.

Flash on and legs in the air, the camera shutters three times. If you weren't embarrassed before, you definitely are now.

You send two of the three photos, tossing your phone into your pillows.

The ding is still audible, followed by two more that make your heart jump.

shit you're so hot baby Attachment: 1 Video

A shaky thumb presses play on the video, immediately adjusting the volume when wispy curses spill from the device. The video shows his unclothed abdomen and his hand in his boxers, rubbing his dick slowly.

You watch with peeled eyes how his stomach rises and falls, abs gnarling as he bucks into his own hand. Twelve-second video. It's a twelve-second video and it seemed to last for an hour.

He sends more texts:

wish it was you are you touching yourself?

No.

yeah doesn't feel as good as when u did it, tho

You ignore the way your cunt clenches around the air and your panties grow increasingly uncomfortable with the slick pooling and seeping.

pretend it is me Attachment: 1 Voice Message

Oh fuck. You lay down, bringing the phone to your ear and dancing your fingers across your stomach in hopes of soothing your nerves. This is a lot. This is probably worse than letting him feel you up and almost finger you in his car.

“‘M gonna help you feel good, okay?” He starts the voice message. You nod as if he can see you, and close your eyes to take in the full experience.

“Start rubbing your clit—go slowly, tight circles, okay,” he pauses, presumably to let you complete the action. The quiet is filled with an airy gasp from you, sensitivity extremely prevalent between your legs. You part your folds and hear how sticky it is, and it's even worse when you let your finger slip in between your labia and press your clit. You moan so loudly you have to bite your lip.

With your thighs instinctively closing on your wrist you roll to your side, burying your face in the pillow as you start to do as he says: slow, tight circles around your sensitive bud. You can hear him spit—presumably in his hand—and faint slick sounds in the background. He starts speaking, overpowering the background noise, “Feels good, huh?”

“Keep doing that, okay? Keep going until you're about to cum—” He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath, “—fuuuck, baby. I want to fuck you so bad; bet you sound so pretty when you moan…”

He just turns you on more, leaving you to whimper and further push your face into your pillow, attempting to quiet yourself.

It's been a while since you've had any sexual time — oftentimes too tired or uninterested in tending to your needs even though your body screams at you for a release. You're overly sensitive, clit throbbing angrily and hole spasming thirstily. You need to feel good, to reach nirvana — you needed to let Yuan fuck you and satiate the thirst.

He sounds so good talking to you, moaning for you, working you up to your climax, “Put a finger in, baby. I wanna hear you, too,”

You're just horny at this point. You almost waste no time in recording a voice memo, pushing your middle finger into your cunt with a breathy whine, “Oh, God,”

You start at a slow rhythm, really edging yourself. You huff and whine and whimper all into the speaker, letting him hear every voice crack and deep breath. It feels so good, but it's not enough.

“I wanna be filled,” you manage to say. “‘S not enough…need you, Yuanie.”

Send.

You stop your ministrations as you wait for him to respond, letting yourself come down from the impending climax.

Ding!

fuck

Is all he sends, and then your phone starts ringing. Your reflection in the FaceTime camera has you adjusting your position and putting the phone in a flattering angle, answering the phone with knitted eyebrows and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. What a performer you are.

When the call connects you're met with his dick. His hand traverses the length eagerly, an angry tip leaking milky white down the shaft and glistening as he jerks himself off. You see him behind his big cock: hair disheveled and face red.

“Let me see your pussy,” his voice is gritty, deeper than usual. His tone is almost demanding—you clearly don't have the luxury of being shy at the moment.

You lower the camera slowly, pushing your panties to the side and letting the radiance of your phone screen show the glistening mess to him. “Oh fuck,” he comments, throwing his head back.

“So pretty, so perfect. I bet you're tight as fuck,” You decide to show him: slipping your index finger in first with a sweet moan, then following up with your middle finger after a few pumps.

You're definitely fuller, but it's not enough.

Your cunt squeezes around your fingers tightly, spilling out a waterfall of arousal. Your ministrations are easy with how wet you are: fingers slipping in and out with little to no resistance, just narrowly missing your sweet spot.

It gets harder to hold back your moans—sounds now coming out as broken cries as you bite intensely on your lip. “I wanna cum,” you sniffle.

“Yeah? Cum for me—show me how that pussy creams,” So obscene but so, so incredibly hot.

Your hips buck into your hands and your hold on your phone gets weak. You have to change position: set the device up between your pillows, and put yourself on display

Normally, you would never do something this risky. Maybe it's because of Jing Yuan—or a different potential point of interest just mere feet down the hall—but you feel inclined to jump out of your shell now.

So many years in Kafka’s shadow and even more in your mother's palm. You're grown up now, independent and you want to be taken seriously. It's the least you deserve and the most you want. He's going to take you seriously; he's going to see how badly you want him and the lengths you’ll go to to show up for him.

You've made a big leap in your behavior and you're prepared to deal with the consequences. No more little mouse, you're not a baby anymore.

It's time to take the world in your palm and bask in the mature gleam. You let the spotlight burn your skin as you work yourself to an orgasm, moaning so carelessly you're probably the center of conversation among Kafka and her friends. And you’d be right; partially, anyway.

Kafka having dozed off with Silver ages ago left Blade up alone, amusing himself with an average social media feed and remnants of a joint. He tried to ignore your soft moans coming from down the hall, but hey, he has keen ears.

He knows it's probably that douchebag you went out with making you sound like that and he can't even get mad about it. He's almost thankful — it's not every day you get to hear the melodies of an angel.

Neediness and curiosity reach all-time highs and urge him to do something he's 100 percent going to regret.

Blade takes light-footed steps toward your bedroom, the moans, and whimpers of you getting louder as he approaches the source. You sound so pretty; he can only imagine the way your face is knitted up and how wet you must be.

He hates himself for doing this, but he eavesdrops: letting an ear rest on the wood of your bedroom door and taking in the sounds you spew out.

He wishes he was on the other side of this door making you sound like that. He'd probably make you wake the entire apartment building up—

“I’m about to cum—! Ngh, oh my—” A sharp whine cuts you off. He wonders: do you squirt? Can you? Can he make you? There's no way possible that dickhead can do it.

“Me too—oh, shit, baby.” Comes out muffled to Blade, and his eyes roll immediately. Cornball shit, he thinks.

He hadn't pictured you as the phone-sex kind of girl, but with the way that jackass is egging you on, it's no wonder. You're so much better than this, than that guy and all he wants to do is let you know that. Blade is probably no better, but he can try. He can change for you and do right by you—in every aspect.

Your whimpers grow pitchier and you're puffing out deep breaths. You sound…overstimulated. He can imagine your toes curling and thighs trembling as you fuck yourself, squeezing your eyes shut with swollen lips. Your pussy is probably leaking a river, covering your ass, and staining your (probably) dainty white sheets. What he would give to make you feel good, let alone look at you.

“Yuan—!! I'mcummingImcummingImcumming!!!” You squeal, muffling yourself with a hard slap over your mouth.

Blade doesn't even realize he's begun to palm his cock and roll his hips into his hand. “Oh…” he quietly moans, letting his head fall onto your door.

Shit. He has to leave now, hearing you yelp at the sound and shuffle around. No use trying to hide, so he makes an escape: walking fast out of the front door without a second thought. Great—now he has to drive home with a rock-hard dick.

And you gather yourself. Hanging up the phone with Jing Yuan and walking to your door awkwardly due to the mess between your legs.

Cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you think back to that sound. It was a knock, right?

Kafka and Silver lay on opposite ends of the same couch, curled under your throw blanket which is much too small for them. Blade is nowhere to be found…huh. Weird.

“Hey, Kaf,” you shake your roommate awake over the back of the couch. She moans and rolls over, slowly peeling her sleepy eyes open, “hmm?”

“Were you at my door just now?” The red-head shakes her head no, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and away from Silver.

If it wasn't her…“Where’s Bladie?” She questions, noticing his absence.

You shrug. “He probably left earlier.”

Even half-asleep, Kafka has double the brain you do. You can't see what's right in front of you.

She smiles, shuffling again and closing her eyes. “Alright, then. Good night.”

“Night,”

ೀ

With a week left until spring break, you cherish the time you've spent this last month or so living.

It feels like the first time, in all of your nineteen years of living, that you are living. Your smiles are brighter, your days are happier, and you're living every second to its fullest extent in absolute bliss.

Almost every week you're on a date with Jing Yuan. He's practically your boyfriend, but there's no official label so you keep that thought process to yourself.

Lowkey dates with him that slightly escalate have become your norm. You're still holding off on full-blown sex, and you wish you weren't. It causes some tension every time you restrict him from fucking you - but he tells you he's waiting, he's more than happy to wait. That's more than most men are willing to do and you're happy that you're fortunate to have landed yourself someone like you. Spending the tail end of your dates getting your neck marked up and fingered while you jerk him off is as much scandal as you can handle. Nerves are what's stopping you from going all the way. Definitely not Kafka’s hot friend who you can't stop thinking about.

There's synergy in your apartment now. You're not walking into a room with a tight chest and bated breath, just waiting to see what's waiting for you anymore. It's normal now—all of it. From Silver ransacking your kitchen to an obnoxiously loud-smelling blunt, you're used to it. It's not nearly as bad as you feared when Kafka initially moved in.

You sit in the dining hall with Fu Xuan, listening to her angry rambling about her statistics class. She never backs down, always eager to let a piece of her mind fly whether you like it or not.

“Stupidest fucking class ever. And, like, I shouldn't even be in there in the first place because I am wayyy too smart—”

“Hey guys,” thank God. Yukong shows up and sits next to Xuan, saving you from a monologue about how smart and wonderful she is. You love her, but man does she know how to talk.

“Nice of you to join us,” Xuan says snappily. Yukong pays her attitude no mind, sipping her coffee and turning to you with a knowing look.

She shifts the conversation, “Anyway…I came to let you guys know that there's going to be a party on Friday at the sorority. Tingyun said it’s to celebrate the beginning of spring break.”

You can't even remember the last time you went to a party. The smile growing on your face is too strong to fight. “What time?”

“Umm…I’ll have to check. Probably late though, so…”

This can be your first outing with Jing Yuan. Just the two of you with all eyes on you. Right before spring break as well…it could be your first time together—the thoughts alone make your head spin and a flurry of images swarm.

“Hm. Well, I won't be there.” Xuan states, crossing her arms and looking off elsewhere.

Amused, Yukong questions her why. “‘Cause. I'm gonna be busy with burning this stupid campus down!”

┄┄

hii <3 didn’t see u today so i hope ur feeling alright! also did u hear about the party this friday? r u thinking about going? miss u

You send your trilogy of texts to Jing Yuan, drowning out the conversation Kafka and Silver are having in your living room. “Can you back me up here?!”

Silver looks at you for backup, to which you're dumbfounded. What were they talking about again? “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, setting down your phone.

“Ugh!” The gamer groans, falling back onto the couch. “Please tell your sister that a Nintendo DS and a Nintendo Switch are not the same thing!”

“They do the same thing, though!” Kafka defends. “Barely! Kaf, I’m on that thing like, twenty-four-seven and you mean to tell me you think I’m playing Cooking Mama?”

“I don't know what you play. You never let anyone try and join you.”

“Because you all suck! Every single last one of you is dead weight and it makes me look bad.” Kafka scoffs, turning around and looking at you with an exasperated look. You lock eyes and share a similar smile — as much as you claim you and Kafka are total opposites, you get each other in ways not understood.

She turns back around and shuts Silver’s yapping down and at the same time, Blade emerges from the hallway. He looks good. Really good.

His long, dark hair is disheveled and tossed into a low bun, making you gain a newfound appreciation for man buns. His black “wife-beater” tank snugs onto his frame tightly—every ridge and curve of his solid abdomen pressing through the fabric and leaving little to the imagination. Staple gray sweats make you immediately avert your gaze, awkwardly making eye contact with you.

He caught you staring, and you caught him.

As if it were divine intervention, your phone buzzed on the counter behind you and you went straight for it, hiding the flustered look on your face behind your phone. You don't do a good job, though. Kafka notices.

hey baby accidentally slept in this morning but I’m alright heard abt the party but idk if I’m gonna go. not rly feeling it

A frown stretches across your lips as you disappointedly text back.

ohh okay feel better <3

Read.

It's fine—you're fine! You’ll just go with your friends and have a great time and you can see him after break.

You want that to be comforting but your gut tastes the bitter truth. It's not time to have that conversation with yourself so you table it, leaving your phone on the table and joining Blade on the second couch. Kafka and Silver monopolized the other one and you had to fight the urge to wiggle your way between them.

“So, what are we watching?” You make conversation, hiding the shake in your voice by focusing on the TV. Some random show plays, something so stupid you’d never waste your time on this.

“Dunno. Blade picked it.” Silver shrugs, slamming buttons on her Switch.

He turns to you. “Uh, it's the adaptation of the book ‘Verdict’. About Imbibitor Lunae.” He informs shyly. His voice is so gritty and deep—every time you hear it you swear you feel the depth reverberating in your bones.

Blade makes you so nervous. With his intense stare and even more intense aura, he's overwhelming and nerve-wracking. While you've grown to be comfortable with Silver and Kafka, Blade is the only one you walk on eggshells around.

And he feels the same way. He wants to breach the wall and get to know you. He wants to sit on this couch with you with his arms wrapped around your frame and you in his lap and relax. He's so tense around you, so stiff out of pure fear that if he makes the wrong move or says the wrong thing, he’ll scare you off. Blade likes you. And when it comes to girls like you and guys like him, it doesn't take much for things to go wrong.

You like that he reads though. “Ooh, interesting. I’ve never read that book,”

“It's pretty old and short. Most people of our generation haven't heard of it, I bet.”

“Yeah, 'cause you act fifty years old!” Silver sneers, earning a slap on the leg from Kafka. He pays her no mind, instead watching how you laugh at her teasing.

Your eyes get so bright when you smile: full of joy, full of light. It's so cute.

“What episode is this?” You ask him. Clearing his throat, he checks with the remote, “Episode four.”

“Mind catching me up?” Are you doing this on purpose? You’ve got to know what you're doing to him.

Heat drives up his neck and he has to create distance, sitting all the way back on the couch and replying to you with a nod.

You gulp, watching the way his legs naturally spread and how his arms flex. Insanely attractive, almost criminally so.

“So, it’s basically about that guy,” he points at the screen, a graceful-looking man with horns displayed, “called the Sinner—”

“That guy’s a sinner? He looks like an angel,” You comment. You take another look at the screen and Blade fights a smile.

If only you knew.

He continues to break down the lore of Verdict to you, going very in-depth and getting seemingly passionate as he goes on. Kafka scrolls on her phone and takes it in with pride—Blade should thank her. Never in all of her years of friendship with him does she think she's ever heard him talk this much, let alone to someone he’s interested in. It's pure proof of what you do: the best sides of people come out because of you.

You listen to him intently, chiming in with reactions and questions every now and then and completely abandoning the show you're supposed to be learning about. You just like to hear him talk. His rough voice softens up as he continues explaining the story to you and in turn, your body language softens. You can relax and lie on the couch, keeping your eyes on his face as you lean your head down on your wrists.

Details you hadn't noticed before on his face stand out to you — like how clear and supple his milky skin is and how his chapped lips are tinted ever-so-slightly red. You notice how his thick eyebrows wiggle and knit together when he’s thinking, and his awkward, canine-heavy smile when you make a comment. Blade is dorky and surprisingly, a history enthusiast.

He goes from detailing the fabled betrayal of Imbibitor Lunae to the Ambrosial Arbor to everything before, after, and during. From the unusual silence exuding from Kafka and Silver, he realizes just how much he's been talking. Even you have started to drift off, your eyes are heavy as you listen to old Xianzhou tales.

Upon realizing that he’s effectively talked everybody to sleep, he takes the blanket draped on the armchair and covers you, making sure to be as cautious as possible. He doesn't know what he’d do if you woke up and caught him.

As weird as it sounds, he likes seeing you sleep. You look so peaceful like your dreams are full of cotton candy and rainbows. Knowing you, they probably are.

“You’re staring, Bladie.” He turns around to see Kafka, her smirk overtaking her groggy expression. He doesn't even try to refute the claim or defend himself. If there's anyone other than himself that knows him well, it's Kafka. She probably knows him more than he does himself at this point.

“You’re cute, making moves on her and stuff,” He naturally follows her as she makes her way to the kitchen. The blush on his cheeks dusts lightly, and his eyes find comfort in staring at the floor. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” She reaches into the fridge, pulling out the last can of Mung Bean Soda.

She pops the can open and takes a short swig, “so what's your plan?”

Blade shrugs. Kafka sighs, placing the can on the counter. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

ೀ

If Jing Yuan wasn’t going to come to the party tonight, you were going to make him regret it.

You dressed in the shortest, tightest dress you owned: an off-the-shoulder white mini-dress with the prettiest shine to it. You bought it impulsively after your mid-term breakdown freshman year, thinking retail therapy would make you feel better. (It didn't–another breakdown ensued when you realized you just wasted money on shit you didn't need.)

You did your makeup the best you ever have. Perfect highlight, sharp and even eyeliner wings, balanced lip combo—cosmetology school should have been your first choice with this type of beat.

Yukong told you to come at 9; the time on your phone reads 8:58. A little late, but fashionably so.

The jacket Yuan had given you still resides in your room due to your forgetfulness. If you're going to this party, why not make a statement?

You slip on the bomber jacket, the bulkiness of the fit aiding the aesthetics of your outfit. It gave off comfy but cute—“in my boyfriend’s closet” vibes. Surely, Tingyun or whoever the hell else competing with you will take the hint with this. Nobody will have to guess whose jacket it is when there's a white lion embroidered on the right arm. If this isn't a soft launch, you don't know what is.

Grabbing your essentials you walk out to the usual scene in your living room: Kafka, Blade, and Silver seated on different couches engaged in a conversation. Their heads turn to you, and you immediately let your gaze fall to Blade. He almost looks away instantly — too much. You're too much and he knows that it's for that guy. The one who doesn't deserve you but gets to see you cum and receive your attention…unfair.

“Wowww look at you! Little mouse is stealing someone’s man tonight!” Silver whoops, snapping her fingers. You roll your eyes at her, brushing stray strands of hair back.

You walk to the door, “Don’t wait up!!!”

Oh, but they will. Some more than others.

┄┄

Yukong’s sorority house is huge but it feels so small with this many people present. The invitation was extended to the entire campus, presumably, and sure enough, they showed up and showed out.

Pulling up was a nightmare — cars and people backed up for what seemed like miles. Your Uber driver huffed and puffed the entire time trying to find somewhere to let you out, and you could only extend apologetic woes and smiles. Walking up to the house was better, but you suddenly woke up from your dream world and realized that people could see you. They could perceive you and form preconceived notions about you just from how you carried yourself. You became conscious of what the hell you had on—immediately regretting the short dress when you had to squeeze between some randoms smoking on the stairs, your bare thighs rubbing against their bodies. Ugh.

The music was loud, seemingly traveling through the floorboards and it felt incredibly unstable to walk in your heels. You searched for Yukong, spotting your best friend off to the side with Hanya.

“Woaahh, look at you!” She exclaims. You give her a spin and laugh. Through your joy, you miss the way her face crinkles up when she eyes the jacket you sport. “Do you want a drink?”

You nod, “Only like, one or two. I'm trying to stay sober; I want to remember tonight.” You send her a look that means only one thing: you have something planned for tonight. What that thing is…well, Yukong isn't sure she wants to know.

She asks Hanya to fetch you a drink, taking up a conversation with you in her place. “How’s the sister situation?”

You hadn't updated Yukong on the status of things in a while. Should you tell her about Blade?

Wait. Tell her what?

As if there's anything to tell…

“It’s actually good. Surprisingly. I thought I’d be begging my mom to take her by now,” you joke. Hanya returns with a red solo cup, handing it to you. “It’s something tame.”

You're not a fan of the taste of alcohol. You can't understand how people willingly get shitfaced—this shit is nasty. You cringe and shudder at the taste. Whatever juice base is added does not aid the taste one bit.

“Her friends are around often. Like…every day. I wonder if they have jobs but I haven't asked,” Yukong takes a sip of her drink as well.

“Did they help this transformation occur?”

And suddenly, the reality of how you look hits you again. “Ha ha, very funny. I wanted to try something new, something sexy.”

“It worked!!” A random girl replies as she and her friends walk toward the kitchen. The face you give Yukong says I told you so, and she rolls her eyes.

“Let’s dance!” You exclaim, grabbing onto your friend with the sudden shift in the music.

Reluctantly, she follows you to the sea of gyrating bodies. Everybody dancing and talking forms a cocoon of heat—you’re encapsulated the moment you breach the area.

Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. You keep this up for a good twenty minutes, breaking on the couch every now and then. It may be only you and Yukong — and the occasional appearance of Hanya — but you're having fun. Fun like you said you would with or without Yuan—

He’s here???

You spot Jing Yuan out of the corner of your eye. He daps partygoers up at the door, making his way through the jumbles of people clearly in search. Of you?

You almost call his name and wave but he walks straight toward Tingyun. His hands slide around her waist instinctively and her arms wrap around his neck tightly. She giggles as he lifts her up, and she gives him her cup when she's put back down. They don't break eye contact the entire time he downs the remainder of her cup, and as soon as he's finished, the cup is replaced with her hand and she's guiding him up the stairs.

Did he think you wouldn't be here? Or did he not give enough of a fuck regardless?

Whatever the case—it hurts. You take the jacket off and toss it to the ground, not realizing the stray tear that streaks down your face.

Tingyun is going to give him something that you couldn't. He’s going to give her something you can't have. You feel slighted like the rug has been torn from beneath your feet and you’re doomed to a fate forever on your ass. You look stupid. So so so stupid, but you have enough dignity to wait until you leave to bawl your eyes out.

Ignoring Yukong calling your name, you walk outside and begin calling yourself an Uber. The early spring chills make you even madder. Fuck this stupid dress, this stupid party, that stupid Jing Yuan—“Hey!!! You didn't hear me calling you?”

Yukong comes following after you, her face concerned as she comes into view. Seeing your tears, her eyebrows furrow, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

A sad laugh escapes your throat and you look up at the sky, attempting to hold back the sudden rush of tears. “Yuan is sleeping with Tingyun,”

Her face is full of indescribable expressions. She has many things she wants to say, but she chooses the safe option. “Huh?! How do you know?”

“His lying ass just showed up and threw himself all over her. Then they went upstairs and you and I both know they aren't up there talking.”

You poor, poor girl. “I shouldn't be sad…what was I thinking? I should've known that he was an asshole.” You should have, but Yukong won't blame you.

The last romantic attention you had was from Dan Heng: your kinda-sorta-ex-boyfriend who took your virginity senior year and broke up with you a month later because you were going to different schools. You crave a change in the way people perceive you. Jing Yuan was the closest thing to a fever dream you had in university, and he turned it into a nightmare. What was supposed to be your rebranding - an age of confidence and maturity was overtaken by his pushiness and exclusivity.

“It doesn't matter, I don't care. I just wanna go home,” You hope Kafka and her friends are on their best behavior tonight. You're not in the mood for any shit.

“Are you sure?” Yukong doesn't know how to comfort you. Anything she has to say will make it worse, she's sure of it.

You nod, wiping the string of tears off of your cheeks. The buzzing of your phone lets you know that your Uber is approaching shortly, so you give Yukong a smile that’s meant to comfort her - but it only worries her. She won't push you because the only way this’ll end is messy if so.

She offers you a comforting smile of her own, pulling you into a soft hug. “Call me later, okay?”

She reluctantly pulls away and heads back into the party, head swiveling over her shoulder to make sure you don't jump in front of a car. You're not going to — if anyone needs to, it's that asshole, Jing Yuan.

Your Uber pulls up and saves the day, the warmth in the car settling goosebumps on your skin from the juxtaposition. “Long night?” The driver asks, peering at you through the mirror.

Is it that obvious?

With a sad smile, you nod, “It's only gonna get longer.” You laugh. Imagining the annoying amount of questions and pep talks Kafka is going to give you when you step through the door irritates you. You lay your head against your seat, and then your phone buzzes.

Flipping the device over, you see three notifications from ‘Yuan <3’. Ugh.

Looking at it is going to make you do or say something you’ll completely regret. You regain composure through a deep breath; placing your phone face down on your lap and watching the world blur through the window.

You're trying not to feel humiliated. There's a burn in your chest because every time you close your eyes, there's a scene of you and him together. You're stupid to think he actually liked you. His longing gazes and lingering touches and sweet words were tactics to get into your pants — and it almost worked. There's a reason your mother treats you like a baby: you are one and can't handle the real world. You hate that you had to come to this conclusion like this, but you're not ready.

Thanking the driver, you pull yourself out of the car, trudging begrudgingly into the building and in the elevator. And you can't stop fucking crying.

Stray tears keep escaping and no matter how many times you wipe them away or vigorously blink, it doesn't stop the flow. Why are your feelings hurt this badly? Why did you like him so much?

These same questions cycle as you open your front door, being hit with the same atmosphere you just escaped.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you think. Of all nights, tonight Kafka decides to throw a damn party???

Not wanting to spend another second in this atmosphere, you weave your way through the partygoers — an exceptional amount of people, given the space of your apartment, if you may add.

Trying to escape to your room gets you caught by your roommate, and your name gets called across the party as a result. She maneuvers her way to you, “What’re you doing back here so early, little mouse? I thought we shouldn't wait up?”

The sadness you wear is so prominent. Your face is dropped and your lips quiver when she asks her questions. You stare at the floor to not let the tears fall. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just gonna go to sleep, so can you keep the noise down?” You try to brush her off. Kafka doesn't let you slip away, grabbing your arm and keeping you in place.

The rim of her cup nudges at your chin in place of her hand, forcing you to look up at her. A black headband pushes her plum-colored locks out of her face, straight strands flowing down her back. When she tilts her head pitifully at you, her hair swings to the side, falling over her shoulder and at this moment she looks so approachable. “What’s wrong?” She poses the question again, her tone softer than before.

You almost break down in front of her and she immediately extends her arm around your shoulders, pulling the side of you into her chest. She hands you her cup and you immediately down the liquid with no second thought. Her hand rubs your arm comfortingly and she guides you toward the kitchen, “C’mon, let's talk in here.”

The kitchen is surprisingly unoccupied save for a few hungry stragglers, leaving the two of you to sit on the stools. She refreshes your cup, getting a new one of her own and finishing off another bottle of tequila.

Kafka can tell by looking at you that this upset is caused by heartbreak. No words have to be spoken for her to understand, and now it's her job to take care of you. The way you deserve.

“What’d he do?”

The look on her face is all-knowing. You can't help but break a small smile at her intuitiveness. “I’m sure you can imagine…”

Of course she can. It was clear as day that he wanted only one thing. Everybody but you could see that a mile away.

“How’d you find out?”

“The asshole definitely wasn't trying to hide it.” You state, taking a big sip of your drink and cringing at the bitterness. Yuck. “He told me he wasn't going to come to the party, but I'm there, dancing, and here he comes. With a big wide-ass smile he walks straight to Tingyun and they waste no time in going upstairs.”

You don't normally swear, but you're so irritated that the words just soar from your lips. It’s almost amusing to watch your angry rambling. “Not even accounting for the fact that I was there and somebody could have told me. It was right in my face—right there and it was like I was invisible!!!”

Her eyes travel up and down your body. You're definitely not invisible. Jing Yuan just doesn't know what to do with you.

“He didn't deserve you; I hope you know that.” She comments, sipping her drink slowly. You finish off yours with bigger gulps, immediately hopping off of the stool and searching for a new bottle. Pouring another full cup, you nod, “I do now.”

“And then—he had the audacity to text me!” You sit down, taking off your heels. You're ready to get comfortable and let everything rip. Kafka’s eyes widen, “Oh, really?”

You hum to confirm, picking up your phone and checking the notifications. A few texts from Yukong and Xuan join his messages, but those don't matter. You hand the phone to Kafka, “I didn't even read them. I should block him, right?”

hey baby, i’m at the party wya

just talked to Yukong…can we talk? I wanna explain don’t be like this. at least let me explain?

Double yuck. You absolutely should block him…after this, though.

“He wants to explain himself to you. Classic,” She sneers. You laugh through your sipping, sitting the cup down. “He must take me for an idiot.”

There's a short silence that breaks with you changing the subject. “What’s the occasion?” You question.

She shrugs, placing her cup down. “Just felt like partying.”

Kafka tells a bit of a half-truth. While she did feel like having fun — her idea extends beyond getting sloppy drunk and into territory thus far unexplored. There's one objective she has tonight and it can't be completed unless her two moving pieces are pliable and cooperative. In terms of a checklist, she's halfway there.

Low-lidded eyes narrow at you, as if to tell you her intent wordlessly. You don't pick up what she's putting down, instead feeling heavily nervous under her gaze. “Anyway. Why don't we…”

She trails off, her finger tapping her chin exaggeratedly. “Wanna dance?”

You suck in a breath, holding up your hands. “I think I'm gonna call it a night, actually. It’s kind of late and all that crying made my head hurt…” You laugh. That’s partly true—you just want to escape whatever trap she’s set, if you're being honest. And frankly, after tonight, you have slight trauma from dancing.

“It’ll make you feel better.” She sings, wiggling a finger at you. “Come on; just one dance!”

Your face crinkles. You're not convinced. “Silver’s on the aux, we can ask her to play whatever you want.” She tries to bribe. “No sad-girl depressed shit, though.”

She keeps asking, offering deals and propositions that sound all the more appetizing as she continues. After a series of unabashed begging, you finally agree. “One song,” you sternly declare, hopping off the stool and grabbing ahold of your cup.

Her hands are in the air defensively, a cheshire smile stretching across her lips. “You lead the way,”

You've never partied with Kafka before. Your time spent as step-sisters consisted of you mostly lurking and watching, earning your nickname ‘little mouse’ because you were quiet, swift, and moved at night. You saw her sneak people into the house while your parents slept, throw parties while they were out, smoke in your backyard, and do other wild activities — but she never let you join. Your age was your main roadblock, being deemed too young and too cute to join her and her friends. Dancing with her now, smelling the strong mix of scents in the air and the bass of the music jumping in your bones, you understand why now.

Maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that your heart is broken, but the atmosphere is heavy. There's a lingering feeling that seeps through your pores. It has you dancing with her, letting her hands lie on your waist and your hips sway together.

Your bodies generate a fountain of heat that consumes you. You can't help but just dance: feeling the beat in your very core. Mixed with your surplus of liquid courage, your body sways and gyrates, lighting a flame you won't be able to put out in Kafka. Her smile is wide and her eyes flicker toward the couch, meeting an intense amber gaze.

Blade is entertained…more so intrigued with how you can live freely even after your heart weighs you down. The smile on your face doesn't falter — it only grows and gleams and he can't stop watching you dance.

Should he take Kafka’s place? He wants to take Kafka’s place.

It should be his hands on your waist, his lips on your ears, his words making you laugh—“Ah, I’m exhausted,”

You plop down beside him with an exasperated groan. He almost jumps out of his skin when you appear, and looking up at Kafka who towers over the pair of you, he can tell this is only the beginning. Her smile is warm but all-telling: whatever idea she has brewing in her head is coming to fruition tonight.

“I’ll be back. Take care of her for me, Bladie,” she shoots him a wink. He almost doesn't know what to do. Should he talk to you? Take you to bed?

“Blade?” Your voice is so small, so cute. You're quiet beneath the jumble of sounds crammed in your apartment but he can pick you out amongst the masses. He's never heard you address him before and the way his name leaves your mouth…he’s always going to replay it in his head forever. “…Y-yeah?”

He doesn't stutter but fuck, you make him nervous.

Breathing out airily, you turn your head to him. “…Do you and Kafka date?”

“No.” His answer is straight and immediate. Must be a sore subject…

“Oh…” “Why do you ask?” He knows why you ask. The same reason everybody else does. “Dunno. You guys just seem…close.”

“She’s not my type of girl.”

“Oh?” You perk up, now intrigued. “Then, what is your type of girl?”

You. He picks at his nails and almost avoids your eyes. How does he answer this question without freaking you out? Ah…fuck it.

“…You.” He’s dying on the inside but at least you're drunk—you’re not going to remember this so it won't be that bad. “Really?”

Your tone pitches up as you adjust your position. You lean your head against your hand now, opting to look him in his eyes. His attention feels nice and hearing that somebody insanely attractive wants you. You make him nervous, making him twiddle his fingers, and his cheeks dust rosy. That's a type of flattery that you can't make up.

“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly. As if it's so obvious that he likes girls like you.

“What about me do you like?”

“Oh, uh, I don't know…” he trails off. He suddenly remembers the solo cup he abandoned earlier in the night and picks it up off the floor. He’s going to need a serious buzz to bear his dirty laundry to the wind. “…everything?” He poses it like a question — as though your reaction would gauge the validity.

Your face was brighter and painted in a flustered manner. “Thank you,” is all you can say without word-vomiting.

“What are you two talking about?” Kafka breaks up your tension, handing you another full cup and weaving her way onto the couch. She takes a seat right behind you, effectively spooning you. She takes a look at Blade over your shoulder, noticing the blush that paints his cheeks and the refusal to look in your direction.

Downing big swigs of your mystery drink, you shake your head. “Oh, nothing…” You sing, giving Blade an obvious reassuring wink that Kafka laughs at. “Guess I should leave you two to it, huh?”

“To what?” You ask coyly. You giggle bubbly, hiding your grin behind your cup. Kafka gives you a look, “I’m interrupting, aren't I? It’s okay to push me away.”

“We didn't do anything yet!!”

“Yet?” Kafka and Blade exchange glances - a series of looks that only mean one thing.

You slap a hand over your mouth, laughing into your palm drunkenly. Your mind is hazy and covered in static. That's not what you meant to say— “Well, I mean…”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, cocking her head to the side. “What do you mean? You playing to run off with Bladie later?”

While that would be great and you aren't completely unopposed…“We were just talking.”

Kafka shrugs, dropping the topic. You’re determined to preserve the privacy of your conversation until the very end. Well, anyway, there are other methods of getting the show on the road.

Her brief time away from the pair of you was spent curating a queue of songs on Silver’s phone — songs she knows you like, songs she knows Blade likes, and songs she knows your inebriated bodies will like. Full of bass, full of sensuality, full of dirty innuendos that get your core filled with butterflies and your head filled with fantasies. She took it upon herself to mix up a concoction strong enough to wipe out a village of Pilgrims and your inhibitions.

From the moment your mother mentioned staying with you, Kafka thought of you. You’re a staple goody-two-shoes, held down to Earth with a strict upbringing and a perfectionist mindset. You were always eager for more, wide eyes watching as she and her friends explored all types of realms unbeknownst to you.

It’s her way of setting you free and paying you back. All those times you covered for her, all those times you took care of her after a long night out, and even now, taking her in when you have no reason to — it’s her way of saying thank you. Giving you the release you’ve been clawing for since she met you; giving you the release you deserve.

Blade is perfect for you. He's the type of guy to send your mother into cardiac arrest but the type of guy to love you right. He's not a man of many words but of many actions — a crafter, a creator, a provider, a carer. What you need is stability, something in scarce supply ever since your parents split up; but you also need someone to fix. That can't be Kafka, it won't be her.

She's going to hand you the tools to set you free, but it's up to you to forge your way out.

This box of safety you guard yourself in is coming down tonight. The burden of finding the perfect, golden guy, being the perfect, golden girl, and living a perfect, golden life is shriveling by the minute, each alcoholic sip you take singeing its weight.

The sultry beat of the next song punches through the atmosphere. The vibe of the party seems to slow down: the chatter lowers itself to background noise, bodies move longingly and languidly, and the lights seem dimmer. Your body feels heavier too, slumping forward on the couch to where your forehead collides with Blade’s knee.

His hands are quick to slip under your arms, helping you sit up straight. Kafka rubs a supportive hand in circles on your back, “You alright, little mouse?”

You look at the man in front of you, his silhouette slowly coming into focus. With his hair freed down his back and toned body dressed in his usual comfortable loungewear, he looks good. So fucking good with the worried look on his face.

“Hey, I got you,” he states.

In a second your strength is replenished and you muster the courage to lean in, stealing a kiss from him. It’s unexpected, sloppy, and tastes a whole hell of a lot like liquor…but, fuck, does it feel good.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, choosing to remove them from beneath your arms and rehome them on your waist. The initial shock dissipates and his body naturally leads into your kiss, his eyes closing after taking in the image of an amused Kafka.

You whimper into his mouth, eager to climb onto his lap. Your hands roughly tangle in his hair, pulling his face unimaginably closer as if you were trying to consume him whole. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against your glossed ones is like heaven - even better as he gets to re-slick them with his tongue.

It’s like the world around you doesn't exist anymore. Time could cease to exist and it wouldn't faze you because you have everything you need beneath you. The warmth of another person, the kisses of pure desire, the hands of desperation…it all rests in Blade and he delivers it unto you. It's all that matters right now, all you could ever wish for — forget Jing Yuan, your mother, whatever stressors have been weighing you down. It's insignificant, it doesn't matter, not when Blade sucks your tongue and his hands grab the fat of your ass.

It doesn't take much to escalate the situation with the amount of alcohol and stress in your body. It needs to all come out.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Kafka practically pulls you two apart, holding your hand and hoisting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed,”

You grumble like a petulant child, holding your other hand out for Blade to grab. He’s quick to slip your hand into his. “I don't wanna go to bed…”

Leading you through the myriad of people, Kafka laughs, “Don’t worry. We’re not going to sleep.”

You giggle at her words, the meaning not fully processing in your hazy head. You miss her innuendos the way you always have, focusing on Blade. His arm wraps around your waist to stabilize you with Kafka’s hand locked in yours. It’s intimate, it’s nice, and though you can't see the heat burn in his skin in this darkness, you can feel it with how close he is to you.

Kafka leads the three of you into your room, flickering your light on and closing the door behind you all. She locks it while you basically drag Blade to your bed.

You're more abrasive when you're drunk: grabbing Blade by the fabric of his shirt into another sloppy kiss. It’s amusing to watch, Kafka’ll give you that. But that's not the image she had in mind.

“Easy tiger,” she purrs, sitting behind you on the bed. You both catch your breaths, looking at each other with small smiles. There's a spark of desire in the room, latching onto any and everything and setting it ablaze. It’s hot and palpable and you need to set it out. “Let’s take our time, yeah?”

It doesn't register what she meant by that until her hands are fondling your chest and her chin rests on your shoulder. “Mmh…” she moans, feeling your nipples harden through your dress, “We’ve been waiting a real long time for this, haven't we, Bladie?”

He finds himself at a loss for words, swallowing thickly and keeping his eyes trained to you. “Yeah…”

“Why don't you come show her, then?” Kafka instructs, fluttering her eyes up to him. He doesn't need much encouragement to catch your bobbing head with his palm, leaning in and taking the lead in your kiss.

Under his behest, the kisses are softer, tamer, but filled with just as much—if not more—fire as before. He takes his time in carefully traversing your mouth with his tongue — completely contrasting from the kisses you gave him previously. You were taking a page from the book of Jing Yuan, using how he kissed you as a guideline for the basis. But that's not what you wanted. What you wanted from the very beginning was for him to take his time: to savor you down to every detail until your lips bruised and swelled, then move on to the rest of your body with passion.

Blade’s kisses were heavy with passion and need - as if he, too, was holding onto a package full of burdens.

As he moves down your jaw and neck, Kafka’s hands travel down to the hem of your dress, slipping under and gripping your bare sides. Her hands are cold and you flinch at the feeling, but it soon feels nice as her hands slide to cup your boobs under your bra. Your head falls back on her shoulder, allowing Blade more access to the expanse of your neck.

Your hips pathetically gyrate against the bed, receiving minimal friction that aids you in no way. It only makes you needier.

Blade pulls away to let Kafka pull your dress over your head, revealing the pretty, matching white set you have on underneath. You so obviously wore this with Jing Yuan in mind, and it irritates Blade that he was ever worthy enough to you to warrant such an ensemble. It was never right, never fair — but he has you now, and he doesn't plan on letting you go.

Kafka takes the initiative and unclips your bra, tossing the undergarment to the floor alongside your dress. You're pushed flat onto the mattress where she takes a moment to remove her crop top, leaning over you in her black lace bra.

She places a chaste kiss on your lips leaving your eyes to widen — watching with blown pupils as she lowers herself to your chest and darts her tongue toward your pebbled nipple. You drawl out a whine, your body curling up in response. She swirls the nub, dragging her teeth lightly on it and leaving you hissing and whimpering. All the while, Blade strips down to his underwear, tossing his long hair to the back and palming the tent in his pants.

You turn your head to your left and spot him, your face cringing in pleasure. You stretch your arms toward him and he complies, letting your hands find the sides of his head and pull him in for another kiss.

An agile hand slithers beneath the thin band of your panties, a slender finger slipping between your labia and running through your folds. You moan out into Blade’s mouth, hips jerking away and legs kicking into the air. “Your sensitive pussy’s all wet…” Kafka observes. She lays her head right below your boob, focusing her attention between your legs.

“‘S making a mess through your panties.” She laughs when you moan out again, her finger traveling down to your entrance and prodding.

“Kafka…” you moan, pulling away from Blade.

“Let’s see how long it takes to make you cum,” it’s so obvious that you're not going to last. Your cunt is soaked and only gets wetter by the minute, and her teasing ministrations have you moaning like a bitch in heat.

She adjusts her position, peeling down your panties and leaving them around your ankles lazily. The draft in your room whistles against your soaked folds - a chill runs up your spine as a result. She spits onto her hand as if it's needed, diving straight toward your clit. The sensitive bud is attacked mercilessly: heavy pressure weighing on it as Kafka draws figure-eights. There's a sticky clicking sound that arises and it makes her smile, taking a look at you and Blade over her shoulder.

You suck on his thumb, his left hand rubbing from your neck to your chest. Your whimpers are contained behind his digit, but your watery eyes say all. “You hear that?” She suddenly speeds up her actions, making your back arch and voice sing out around Blade’s finger.

And like a professional, she slows down, inching her finger back down to your hole. It slips in with ease and she sighs. “Dunno if she’s gonna be able to take you, Bladie,”

She pushes her middle finger in knuckle-deep, twisting her finger as she slithers her ring finger in beside it. Blade’s finger in your mouth does nothing to pacify you any longer - her fingers in your cunt bringing out the sweetest moans they’ve collectively ever heard. “She’s so tight…squeezing around my fingers.”

You writhe around in Blade’s hold and your arms brush over his hard-on every now and then. He winces and hisses, bucking into your touch. He needs to preoccupy himself before he cums in his pants—deciding to aid Kafka. His hand tentatively crawls toward your clit, rougher, thicker fingers pinching your bud. It has you huffing out a wail, balling your fist weakly on his thigh.

They keep up a steady pace in tandem, building up your orgasm with ease. Your body is reactive and receptive to their touch: falling apart when your core gets tight and even hotter.

“C’mon, little mouse…let it out for me,” Kafka encourages. She places sparse kisses against your thighs, the print of her lips faintly left in the color of her lipstick. “I can feel it. You wanna cum so bad,”

“Do it,” she murmurs between kisses, “let it out.”

It’s like your body is under her control. Your orgasm builds and crashes in a matter of seconds. Your hole spasms around her fingers but she never stops scissoring them inside of you, rubbing against your sweet spot and effectively overstimming you. You wail heartily, wrapping your arms around Blade’s arm and stopping him from continuing.

Kafka doesn't stop finger-fucking you until you come down from your high and endlessly whimper. She smears your release all over your pussy, bringing her coated fingers to her mouth.

Exaggeratedly, she sucks your juices off of her fingers, making sure to rock her hips against nothing and moan at the taste. “Mmfh,” and with a pop, she removes her digits from her mouth.

She hovers over you trying to catch your breath, capturing your face in her hand and squeezing your cheeks, forcing your lips to part. She lets her saliva drop from her mouth to yours, backing up with a smile. She stops you from swallowing: “Share,” she says.

You and Blade’s lips meet, smushing and mixing yours and Kafka’s spit. It gets messier, sloppier, and it's completely inefficient due to your awkward position but you comply nonetheless.

When you part, Kafka is making quick work of you and flips you over to your stomach. You yelp and giggle, looking over your shoulder and meeting her wide smile. Her index finger boops your nose and she turns to Blade, presumably signaling for him to get up. He stands up, hands grabbing your ankles and adjusting you perfectly.

Kafka slaps your tailbone softly, using her other hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Ass up,” she instructs, and you listen.

You wiggle your butt in the air with a laugh, laying your head on Kafka’s lap. Her pants are pretty comfortable and you find yourself becoming relaxed — while behind you Blade is pulling his boxers down and freeing his dick.

The last time you had actual sex was months ago…as in the middle to end of your freshman year. It was a forgotten one-night stand you met through a dating app - but he’s no match for Blade.

He presses the tip to your entrance, just teasing. Your heavy eyelids fly up, and you immediately brace yourself. You barely felt him, but he's big. You know it.

“Fuck…” he hisses. He wedges his cock between your folds, feeling your wetness smear against him. You feel his width, his length, his weight—he’s a lot less girthy than what you felt with your hands with Yuan, but he makes up for it in length.

If he keeps dragging his dick between your folds he’s going to cum. He has to physically stop himself, sucking in a deep breath because it's now or nothing.

Pressing the tip in you both gasp — and your sounds only drawl out until he completely bottoms out. He's so deep, and you're so wet. He's so big, and you're so tight. Dribbles of your previous orgasm and endless arousal seep out around him, and he nearly moans at the sight.

Getting a good grip on your ass, he spreads your cheeks, pushing you forward while pulling out. It’s a languid motion, edging you for the heart-stopping drop he imposes when you're filled fully again. Your moans come out with every collision and they're full of air. Your chest is tight and all of your air is flying out of your mouth. He's rendering you breathless, but it's nothing compared to how you're making him feel.

Blade begins to gradually increase his pace to satiate this intense hunger. He fucking needs you.

Now that he has a taste of you, his head is clear and his body is in nirvana. His strokes are precise and sharp. He pistons out of you with control, deep grunts skipping out of his mouth. It’s like your pussy is made for him: squeezing him just right in a tight hug and drooling endlessly.

Splat splat splat! The wet sound echoes from your collisions, battling against the barrage of moans that escape your mouth. “Oh, f-f—” you stutter over the curse, clawing at Kafka’s legs. She coos at you, rubbing your face. “You can take it, you got it. Good girl,”

“C-can’t! ‘M gonna cum!” You sob, burying your face into her leg.

Your body hasn't recovered from your previous orgasm, still reeling and the added pleasure Blade stacks on doesn't help. You feel like you're going to explode, wailing and drooling all over the place as your hips gain a mind of their own, fucking back against Blade and chasing your release.

“Think you can squirt for us?”

Oh, hell yeah. If there's one thing Blade wants to do for you, it's to ruin anybody else for you. He wants a monopoly over your body — he wants you to know him as your main source of Heaven on Earth and if there’s one way to do that…

In three swift movements, you're flipped back onto your back, legs on his shoulders. He slips back in with ease, wasting no time in pounding your cunt. He’s fiercer, more determined: drawn up with furrowed brows and his bottom lip snatched between his teeth, Blade becomes a different person.

There's more need, more fervor, an insatiable feeling that’s driven by your warm pussy around him and the idea of being the first person to make you squirt—the only person to make you squirt.

Kafka wraps her hand around your throat, squeezing the sides, and watches with pure amusement as your eyes grow foggier and your sounds grow choppier. They're just using your body, pushing you to the very limit and it's working so well.

A new fire has been lit under your ass and you feel alive — you're on top of the world and nothing but a grand finale can bring you down.

“G-got tighter…” Blade grunts out. Kafka turns to you, seeing how even though your eyes and mouth spill over, you still manage to curl your lips into a toothy grin. “Think she likes it,”

“You like this, huh? Being choked out while getting fucked silly?” God, yes. You love it—you’re on cloud nine.

In this position, Blade can fuck you deeper. He’s effectively digging you out, the slight left-leaning curve of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again. Quakes rack through your body again; it’s coming.

They both can tell and it's getting sloppy. Blade is holding back from blowing his load deep in you, and Kafka? Well, Kafka’s happy to play the supporting role - now letting go of your neck and wedging her head between you and Blade.

With her ass in the air, Kafka dives into the perfect arch to let her lips wrap around your clit, taking the neglected bud into her warm mouth with a long moan. The vibrations jolt through your body and you nearly scream out, thrashing above them.

It's too much, your body can't handle it. You start to crumble: your stomach gnarling and tears streaming down your face. “IcantIcantIcant—” Your hands frantically try to push Blade away but to no avail.

His grunts grow more animalistic as he puts all of his body weight into his thrusts, slowing down. He goes harder, making your body jostle with each grind of his hips. His face is knitted in pleasure, his porcelain skin damp with sweat and blemished in a crimson brushing. Kafka abusing your puffy clit with her tongue has you and Blade losing your minds, collectively falling apart.

This is it. This is pure, unadulterated bliss.

White hot heat surges through your body as you shake. Your thighs quiver on Blade’s shoulders, and Kafka can feel the stiffness of your clit. She slithers back to her seated position, her eyes never leaving the passion-filled affair occur.

Words you try to form only come out as broken squeaks and even Blade can't hold back any longer, letting out a string of blissed-out curse words as you clamp around him. The orgasm that begins to pour out of you is paired with a force that’s all but pushing him out.

You sob and he moans out — one last thrust breaking the floodgates. A clear stream shoots from between your legs, spurting at his abs. All the while, his orgasm comes over him, filling you with all his heavy balls had been storing.

You can't even move. Your chests heave for big breaths, unable to catch them.

It’s a high you can't come down from — filled with a surplus of electricity, liquor, and desire. You needed that more than anything, you needed him more than anything.

┄┄

A small yawn leaps from your mouth when your eyes begrudgingly open. What time even is it…?

You swing your arm over behind you in search of the device — but you're instead met with flesh. You're suddenly wide awake, sitting straight up only to realize you're completely naked. You turn to your side and there lays Blade, snoring softly into your pillow.

What the hell happened last night…

You jump out of bed, find something stray to throw on and feel an incredible ache between your legs. Clearly, you had quite the night. You can't concisely remember what happened last night and right now is definitely not the time to rehash your decisions.

You're not completely opposed to doing whatever you did with Blade because…well, he's Blade. He's always been attractive to you, and at least he’s willing to treat you like a person.

You're not going to wake him up so you leave him a note: scribbling your number on a random piece of paper and scurrying out of the room.

You need to find your phone and get some air—“Good morning. Took you a while to get up, huh.”

Kafka sits at the bar, stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of cereal. Does she know that you and Blade…

“Oh, yeah. Hey. Good morning…” you awkwardly puff out. Your voice is hoarse and you cringe at the sound, placing your hands on your chest with concern. “I’m gonna go um…get some food,”

“I made some eggs earlier if you want some—” “—I’m good. I could use the air, anyway.”

Kafka shrugs, turning back to her cereal. You rush out of your apartment in a blur, slamming the door and leaving Kafka in a brief silence.

Moments after you left, Blade emerges from the hallway. “Morning sleepy head. How’d you sleep?” She teases.

He nods, rubbing his eye. He takes a seat next to Kafka, holding up a piece of paper between two fingers. “Woke up to this,”

“The hell is that?” Kafka questions, spinning her spoon around in her bowl.

He flips the paper over, “Her number.”

A smile breaks across her face and she slaps his arm playfully. “Look at you!”

Blade fights off a coy smile, twirling the paper between his fingers. He waited so long, so patiently—and it was all worth it. He would do it again and again. All just to make you his.

#honkai star rail smut #honkai x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr blade #hsr kafka #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #kafka smut #kafka fanfic #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr fanfic #honkai smut #honkai fanfic #tw drugs #fanfic #tw dubcon #hsr x y/n #kafblade #kafblade x reader #honkai star rail #kafka honkai star rail #honkai star rail blog

[aimseytv]

please rant about bubbline, i need a win

the brilliance of bubbline has been vastly misunderstood for years and i’ll explain. people see bubbline as your standard sapphic couple with no real depth, people see the pairing and go ‘gfs’ and move on HOWEVER they are so much more than just girlfriends. they are two immortal beings who for years have been wrapped around the other fingers and have had a relationship based on miscommunication until wrapping that up during the stakes era (varmints s7 is what confirms this but we get into that later)

so the entirety of bubbline is based on miscommunication and you may be wondering: aimsey, how? well that’s because of the fact both of the pair believed the other was in the wrong. but, for us to discuss this, i must explain their relationship in its entirety. we understand how long their relationship has truly been going on for when there is a clip in obsidian distant lands (ODS) where bubblegum catches marcys rock tshirt, both when the pairing are younger or well “a longer time ago” - this shows how long they’ve truly been in each others lives. now, fast forward to the scene we get in ODS where marceline and bubblegum argue over the sense of power, as well as immaturity. we see marceline wanting to just hang with her girlfriend, while in a disruptive manner, meant no harm, and we see bubblegum attempting to focus on work while accidentally shutting marceline down in the process. that quickly escalates into a full blown argument, and quotes like “you’re acting like monster trash” is thrown at marceline which, marcy being an angsty little half demon, didn’t take too lightly in which she responded to the comment with a song that basically says “nvm. you’re not cool. i’m glad i woke up. fuck you and your candy kingdom” and it ends with bubblegum breaking up with marcy. sad right? you haven’t seen anything yet

so now we move on to the tv show. the first we see of the two is the episode ‘go with it’ where marcy is asked to help finn in his adventure to try and ask out the princess. you may be wondering “huh? but if bubblegum is her ex why would she help-“ WRONG! because she doesn’t help! she gives finn completely wrong advice which ends in finn getting thrown out of the candy kingdom. the interaction between the two during this episode is bitter, where we see marceline speak in a high pitched tone and say ‘hello bonnibel’ almost mockingly, in response to bubblegums ‘hey marceline..’ which is incredibly stand offifish. from the get go, we know something happened between them (and with obvious clues now we know the timeline but as a first time viewer, this random episode in s1 can confuse everyone because why do these two characters have beef we don’t know about?)

now, moving onto an important core episode in their timeline which is ‘what was missing’ in season 3. one of the most popular adventure time episodes, and one of the most popular bubbline moments where we see bubblegum and marcy being forced to be together due to finn and jake attempting to take down a “door lord” that includes all of the teams prized possessions. (tldr: little gremlin dude stole jake, finn, bubblegum and marcelines* top favourite and most memorable items.. we will get back to this shortly). anyway, they have to sing a song of truth to get passed and with a failed attempt, marceline tries and lets say she just unleashes all the resentment and anger she’s had towards bubblegum in the form of a song! she says stuff like “i wanna drink the red from your pretty pink face”, “sorry i don’t treat you like a goddess”, and “why should i be the one to make up with you.. so why do i want to?” - indicating she WANTS to. which is probably the first time bubblegum has heard this, because bubblegums reaction is very much just “:O” the entire time. anyway, song goes on, marcy blames bubblegum for her messing up (in reality marcy only messed up because she began saying she wants to bury bubblegum but that isn’t true so the door didn’t accept it. L). anyway, they make up soon enough when finn does his little finn thing and everything is fine.. until bubblegum tries to go against the door lord with a “calculation” which appears to be false and it messes everything up - marcy uses this failure of hers to kinda rub it in her face, watching the princess fail was a positive in marcelines eyes as she was used to seeing bubblegum put work before her so of course she will use any moment of bonnie messing up as a win. she says “looks like you aren’t as perfect as you thought..” which has bonnie respond with “i never said you had to be perfect!” .. OUCHIE!! this leads to them getting upset, finn doing a little sing song which actually opens the door, and them getting their stuff back.. YIPPEE! now, you may be wondering “what was the stuff bubbline had stolen from them?” WELLLL LEMME TELL YOU. bubblegums most prized possession was THE ROCK T-SHIRT that MARCY GAVE HER years ago. marceline blushes as she says “you.. kept the shirt i gave you?” and bubblegum replies “yeah it uh.. means a lot to me” and marcy asks why because bonnie never wears it, to which bonnie replies “i wear it all the time. as panama’s.” .. NOTHING MORE GAY THAN SLEEPING IN YOUR EXES SHIRT THEY GAVE YOU THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS!!!! anyway, marcy didn’t actually *have* an item stolen from her and instead it seems she just wanted to hang out with the team, more importantly wanted to hang out with her pink haired ex girlfriend. good stuff!

anyway, next important interaction i’m highlighting comes from the season 5 episode ‘sky witch’ (there is a lot of smaller key moments but i’m jumping to this one okay moving on) anyway, there is a huge moment at the start of sky witch where bubblegum begins by.. sniffing the shirt marceline gave her.. as she wakes up, to then opening her closet to get ready for the day and we see a polaroid of the pairing IN THE CLOSET… you get my drift? anyway, it slowly moves on to marcy asking PB for help with something (in reality she needs PB to help her recover a teddy bear that was stolen from her that was given to her by her literal father figure during the mushroom war.. so it has a lot of significance. remember that). anyway, PB agrees after the tiniest of convincing and on they go! they go on this adventure, but we will skip to the end where PB magically gets the teddy back.. how? well, we don’t find out until the end of the episode where bubblegum actually traded the rock shirt marcy gave her all those years ago. why did that work you ask? because the sky witch works from the value of items, and not money value, but emotional significance.. SO IT MEANS THE ROCK SHIRT MARCY GAVE HER HAD MORE EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT AND SIGNIFICANCE THAN THE LITERAL TEDDY GIVEN TO MARCY DURING A LITERAL WAR FROM HER OWN FATHER FIGURE THAT ABANDONED HER!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!

okay okay, need more information? i’ve got you! we will quickly move onto VARMINTS my favourite episode of all time. “why aimsey?” because it gives us all the answers and clues we were waiting for when it comes to PB and marcys relationship. we learn that bonnie was unaware of the reason as to why marcy believed they stopped talking and broke up, we see bonnie apologise for hurting marcy and shutting her out, and we see marceline accept her apology as the pair can finally move on and accept the past. after seven whole seasons we get closure baby! the episode is brilliant in millions of ways, as we see bonnie be vulnerable around marceline regarding her loss of the candy kingdom, we see marcy reconciling with bonnie as they travel through the tunnels the pair used to explore years and years before, and it’s just a very nice episode. we are hit with the infamous quote “bonnibel bubblegum, always so prepared.” to which bonnie replies in a stern tone “yeah, i have to be always so prepared, we can’t all just wing it!” which is almost a dig at marcelines free spirit nature, but not out of malice, out of jealousy. bonnie wishes she had that, and not the huge amount of responsibility she has been burdened with since she was barely old enough to understand what it means to be mature. marcy saying the words “is that why you stopped talking to me?” after hearing bonnie go on a rant about how responsibility is difficult always hits me in my heart because it proves marcy to this day, although being bitter about it, believes the reason bonnie shut her out was because bonnie preferred work over her and that was marcelines biggest fear (as we know from getting shut out from her mother, her father and being abandoned by simon). bonnie going “no?!” because she genuinely just didn’t even think to see that may have been the reason the two fell out; both of the pair believing it was the other that lead to the fallout and bonnie not realising it may have involved her a lot more than she thought and it wasn’t just down to marceline being immature. anyway, episode ends with bonnie apologising, marcy accepts it, and we get a very sweet moment where bonnie is vulnerable and explains she is exhausted and marcy allows her to sleep on her shoulder as she rests. very cute :)

okay now stakes the mini series is a whole new realm for stuff regarding the pairs relationship. the stakes mini series is highlighting marcelines relationship with vampirism, and is a very beautiful series i recommend everyone watches. it begins with marceline burning in the sun, and slowly moves on to her asking bonnie to help her with the procedure of turning her into a human because she no longer wants to be a vampire - huge thing to ask, and bonnie ensures she is sure, and they do the procedure. a moment from this i think about a lot is where bonnie says this while doing the procedure regarding the fact marcy will no longer be immortal: “and when you die, i’ll be the one who puts you in the ground”. i think it’s just a nice quote. anyway, there are so many key moments from stakes but i’ll highlight important ones because it’s 5 episodes jam packed of bubbline but another moment is where they are searching for one of the vampires to hunt (this’ll make more sense if you watch it but TLDR: the procedure also unleashed all the vampires marcy has defeated in her years of growing up). PB and marcy are doing jumping jacks, and marcy is explaining a dream she had where in the dream marcy was all old, but PB was still “nice and pink” - meaning marcy was dreaming of her immortality being taken away, and dreaming about how in her future when she’s old, she’s with PB and she’s grown old with her (aww). bubblegum replies “you think i’m nice?” and it’s a very sweet moment where the pair blush. marcy then explains she has a weird feeling in her stomach, and PB asks if it’s just fear and marcy explains she knows what fear feels like already, and then goes “maybe it’s.. love?” regarding what the feeling is while looking at bubblegum and ITS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT THAT DRIVES ME INSANE BECAUSE HOLY!!!! MOLY!!!!!!!! she was just hungry (lmao) and we move on! another scene is where marceline gets hurt badly, and bonnie is begging for her to wake up as she holds marcys lifeless body in her arms and it’s just a very emotional scene of bonnie begging her to wake up when she thinks marcy is about to die and it’s just very sad and beautiful. i’m gonna quickly move on towards the end of stakes as we have more to cover but during the end, marcy gets turned back into a vampire but explains she has learned a lot and she thanks bubblegum, and says the beautiful quote “thanks for helping me grow up. now i guess we get to hang out together forever” and bonnie blushes in return and it’s just such an AAHHHHH scene!!!!!

now, we are rushing towards the finale (i’m missing some very key moments but i’ve been writing this for an hour straight without stopping i will fill in the blanks later) but basically during the final episode, marcy stops bonnie and begs her not to go to war - bonnie replies she has to, and in this moment you can see marcy more so terrified that this will result in her losing bonnie for the second time due to work and she doesn’t want this. its canon at this point the pair are dating again, and we see them chit chat before moving on as the battle starts. fast forward to bonnie getting really injured, and in result of this marceline loses her literal shit and punts the monster that killed bonnie after believing her girlfriend just got smothered and really badly injured - after this, marcy is out of breath and we see bonnie sit up and whisper ‘marcy?’ in a soft tone and marcy flies over just overjoyed she is okay. marcy says “even when we weren’t talking i was scared something bad would happen to you and i wouldn’t be there to protect you” and it’s such a raw line where it’s just obvious throughout all these years marceline never truly moved on from her. marcy and her giggle and then bubbline share their first on screen kiss that made thousands of gays across the globe pass away!!!

then, we have the beautiful obsidian distant lands that gives us insight into their very healthy relationship as we learn a lot more about the pair, and we just get some beautiful shared moments between them and even them canonically calling each other girlfriends which will never not be engraved in my brain!

this was everything from the top of my head (they will be my number one hyperfixation whether i like it or not until i pass away) but yeah! tldr: miscommunication lead to them not speaking for a very long time when the pair both just wanted to be loved but didn’t know how to balance their own stuff on top of loving the other. the miscommunication lied with bonnie throwing herself into her work instead of giving marceline attention, ultimately losing marcys trust in the process, and where marceline being a free spirit lead to bonnie just not being able to work like that as she “isn’t built like that” (her own quote “people get built different. we don’t need to figure it out, we just gotta accept it”. despite it being about her brother, i like to apply it to her also here). and marceline not giving PB the credit of her being a literal ruler burdened with responsibility. both were too young i’d say, but them growing up together and allowing the other to heal in their own ways lead them to each other again :)

THAT IS THE HISTORY OF BUBBLINE BY AIMSEYTV

#i am so very sorry for how long this answer is #this is all from the top of my head #there may be mistakes but i don’t care #if you try to reblog this with your own opinions that are anything negative regarding the pairing i will block you #just kidding #or am i #do not mischaracteris bonnie or marcy i will forever get them more than you #that was mean #anyway #asksey #bubbline #history of bubbline #princess bubblegum #marceline #adventure time

[spideysbruh]

Distance

liked by tchalamet, sabrinacarpenter and 3,272,737 others

y/n i love you heaps, like candy sweets

view all 97,626 comments

tchalamet i love you more, like the sea loves the shore

y/n liked

rocketyn my favorite celeb couple fr

ynslipgloss yns aesthetic is my favorite it's so pleasing

@y/n just tweeted- just said bye to my boyfriend cause he'll be gone for like four months oh imma kms

@snowyyn replied- me after I finish a movie with him

@y/n replied to @snowyyn- girl me too

@realchalamet replied- stop. I miss you already.

@y/n replied to @realchalamet- BABEEE 😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- princess. missing her so much

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler and 3,827,288 others

y/n in my tropical era 💕

view all 101,772 comments

tchalamet I MISS YOU

y/n I MISS YOU MORE BABY

tchalamet so beautiful

y/n liked

tchalamet I wish I could twirl your hair around my fingers right now.

y/n stop im gonna cry. I wish you were here so I could give you a back rub

modernyn oh he's a mess rn

ynstan his comments 😭😭🫶🫶🫶🫶💕 so cute

@y/n just tweeted- watching kingsman im literally sooooo horny right now

@lovelyyn replied- REAL AS FUCKK

@y/n replied- like that man can do whatever he wants to me I swearrrr

@chromeyn replied- god I hope you never stop oversharing with us

@realchalamet replied- um ??? we're still together babe chill 🤨

@y/n replied to @realchalamet- ... im literally sooo joking hahaha you're the only man I've ever found attractive hahahaha (I miss you so much)

@realchalamet replied- I can see you still replying to other people 🙄

@richgirlyn replied- I'm deadd but I sooo understand you

@y/n replied- likeeeeee ?!!!???!

@y/n just tweeted- got high and took pictures of taron egerton in kingsman like it was a concert

@busyyn replied- been there fr

@huffleyn replied- sounds like a normal viewing of that movie tbh

@realchalamet liked and replied- what about my movies ? 🙁

@y/n liked and replied- oh dune is next baby don't worry

@realchalamet liked and replied- YAYYYYY

y/n just posted a story!

caption- missing his goofy lil ass extraaaa hard rn 🤧

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- missing this

@chalswonka just tweeted- bro timmy is yearning soooo bad lmaooo they gotta see each other soon I swear

@princessyn replied- it's so funny the differences in their posts y/n is just thirsting over ppl in movies and then he's like "miss her so much😭😭😭🔫🔫🔫💔💔💔" LMAOOOO

@spaceyn replied- tbf ppl were hating on her when she WOULD post about him a lot in the beginning, so she toned down a lot. ppl hate on her too much smfh

liked by y/n, hallebailey and 3,817,277 others

tchalamet MY LOVE SURPRISED MEEEE

view all 204,287 comments

ynssocks YAYYY MY PARENTS ARE TOGETHER AGAINN

y/n ig I love you or smth idk 🙄

liked by tchalamet

y/n this is about to be the best four days of your life fr

liked by tchalamet

timmylaurie god she's so pretty wtf man

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- babygirl 😍😍😍🥰🥰

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh and 3,287,227 others

y/n 🥺 missed him lots

view all 121,888 comments

tchalamet like tater tots?

liked by y/n

florencepugh MY FAVOURITE PEOPLEEE

y/n I LOVE YOU FLO

lucyxyn the throwback to her older captions w him 😭🫶

y/n just posted a story!

caption- our last day together for another two months 💔

liked by y/n, zendaya and 4,727,288 others

tchalamet i love you.

view all 92,828 comments

y/n this is gonna be the worst two months of my life

bratzyn she's literally an angel I swear

lauriesamy he always takes the best pictures of her 🥺

takemetotheyn you glow different in the photos taken by someone who truly loves you

tchalamet liked

@y/n just tweeted- help i miss my bf 💔

@pepperyyn replied- uh oh now she's yearning 😭😭

@ynshairtie replied- there we goooo

@realchalamet replied- I miss you more 🥺

@snowyyn replied- damn no thirsting now

@y/n replied- well... maybe later 😔🤧

@y/n just tweeted- watching 21 jump street and omg dave franco is so cute🤭🤭 ive been giggling for the entire movie

@lauriesyn replied- girl your mann!!

@tipsyyn replied- IT RHYMES WITH GRAPE

@ynsbra replied- if she was still w her ex he would cry and post ab how he's gonna khs over this

@sazonyn replied to @ynsbra- HELPP WHOS HER EX ?!?!?!!!

@ynxtim replied- sh*wn m*ndes 💀💀 there's so many compilations of him being a weirdo jealous obsessed bf w her... even after for a while he was weird ab her. even though HE broke up w HER ... anyways yeah he sucks

@realchalamet replied- reduce... reuse... recycleee 🎶🎶🎶

@y/n liked

@y/n replied- i love how that's the scene you remember 😭😭💕

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler and 3,716,227

y/n living like a lusty flowerrr

view all 96,728 comments

tchalamet I can't take this, you're too beautiful how did this happen

y/n liked

lauriesyn she's so ethereal

tchalamet are you running through the grass for hours?

y/n yeah and rolling through the hay like a puppy child fr

rachelzegler my pretty best friend !!!

y/n we ARE the two pretty best friends

y/n just posted a story!

caption- missing this. missing you @tchalamet

@y/n just tweeted- SEEING MY BOYFRIEND OH SO SOONNNN

@y/n replied- I watched wonka and little women on repeat I swear that's how badly I missed him 😭💕

@wonkasyn replied- what a journey we've witnessed

@realchalamet replied- I CANT WAIT BABYYYY

@gourmetyn replied- yayyy my parents will be back together again 🫶

@y/n liked and replied to @gourmetyn- you still have to send the adoption papers

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- BABYYYY 😍😍

y/n just posted a story!

caption- GUESS WHO'S BACKKKKK

*

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet x you #timothée chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée imagine #timothée x reader #Timothée chalamet social media au #Timothée Chalamet smau

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

I headcanon that the person that spoiled Lan Sizhui most growing up wasn't actually LWJ, but LXC.

He finds out LWJ brought in a child and his Baby Senses™️ immediately go off full blast

There is a baby on the premises and LXC will spoil him, rules be damned. He's been craving to do that ever since LWJ grew up anyway.

Zewu-Jun attends clan meetings with A-Yuan on his shoulders for years and nobody says anything because the one time someone tried talking A-Yuan into getting off, his eyes welled up and his lower lip jutted out trembling - and Zewu-Jun's otherwise kind smile exuded Sunshot-era murderous intent

"Wangji, you need to rest. I will watch A-Yuan for you."

"Brother, you've babysat him this entire week. I can have him for an afternoon-"

"It's alright-"

"Brother, I miss him."

LWJ and LXC nearly fight over who gets to spend more time with the baby

The Lan sect's budget acquires a sizeable gap due to "unforeseen expenditures". The unforeseen expenditures are the fact that LXC took A-Yuan to see the merchants in Caiyi Town and he made irresistible puppy dog eyes at him at the toys stand

"Where is Zewu-Jun? We need to talk to him about-"

"He's playing tag with A-Yuan, and specifically instructed us not to disturb him unless someone is dead or dying."

"Fair enough."

A-Yuan becomes Zewu-Jun's super cute advisor whenever he has to do paperwork/make decisions. He writes important things down while A-Yuan sits next to him and draws pictures with his expensive brushes. He may or may not chew on the delicate handles too, but that's okay, it gives them character.

"I have to go to the emergency discussion conference tomorrow, so we can't go sword flying anymore"

"Tell them your tummy hurts so you can stay home."

(He does. It works.)

"Brother, I trust you, but it is dangerous to take a child this young flying on the sword."

"Wangji, I am more than capable of keeping A-Yuan safe. Haven't I done the same with you?"

A-Yuan returns raving about the cool tricks Zewu-Jun did and LWJ gives LXC A Look™️ because he knows none of those tricks are safe. From experience.

LWJ doesn't let LXC take A-Yuan to discussion conferences for many reasons - and LXC deals with it by shopping at every single children's store in Lanling to bring his favorite nephew gifts

"We appreciate your generosity, brother, but where will we put all these things?"

"I could ask an annex be built for the jingshi."

Whenever LXC wants to get out of something, he says he "has urgent uncle duties that cannot be postponed" and flees

"Brother, A-Yuan must eat his vegetables without being bribed with candy afterwards."

"It is called a rewards system, Wangji, and it works. He is eating his vegetables. Even the broccoli!"

NMJ takes a liking to the kid but has no idea how to interact with him so he brings him play weapons and teaches him saber techniques.

NHS has paint sets sent as gifts and LXC walks around with colorful handprints on his robes for days.

"I wonder why A-Yuan doesn't like A-Yao all that much..."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #original thots #lxc #lsz #give lxc a kid #if nobody wants to i will

[storyshark2005]

Carraville Rec List !

See below, self-explanatory!! I'm sure I missed some bangers, so feel free to reblog and add more, or comment. I pulled all these straight off my AO3 bookmarks list. They are ALL COMPLETE, so I didn't add any WIPSs! Please note I separated "older/classic" recs from the amazing fountain of NEW works we've been blessed with in the past 3-4 months or so. Note: IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER!

Enjoy you little dancers!!

⚽️❤️ MY CLASSIC CARRAVILLE PICKS ❤️⚽️

Lockjaw by anonymous - Workplace blowjob fic that grows into a much deeper story. Sexy-with-feels MNF era Carraville. Amazing ‘show don’t tell’ characterization, top top dialogue.  Gary hiding past trauma and Jamie finding out. A crime this is anonymous, I want to read more from this author!! 

the ghosts of you and me by @blindbatalex - ahhhmazingly written, MNF-era Carraville. Uses ‘snowed in’ trope to delve greater depths of a break up; old wounds, things unspoken, beautiful writing and a really pulled-back tone that aches. 

the ocean and the coast by @carraville - Valencia!Gary. Jamie POV. Jamie pining. Lovely poetic style. “I have a separate plate for you.” <3 <3 <3 

In Your Boots by @thesecretdetectivecollection- funny, sweet, MNF-era. SO CUTE Gary jumping to conclusions and panicking over Jamie leaving. Lots of Jamie-scenery descriptions of pretty eyes and "absurd cheekbones" and "Jamie's reliable heart" <3 

keep your silver, give me that gold by @blindbatalex - MNF-era Carraville. Jamie decides to box Rio Ferdinand. Gary has SERIOUS RESERVATIONS about his beefy colleague (just colleague, no feelings, cough cough) putting himself in harms way for a stupid charity wager. Thing come to a head in a good way. Lots of verbal eye candy Carra. <3 

Loss / loss / win by milleseptcent guuuuh the SCALE! The FEELS! Soulmates Carraville. Takes place from playing days to MNF-era. Gary and Carra, both without soul marks, fuck around in a casual relationship... for about twenty years. The ending is SO SWEET!

Anything That Isn’t This by @kloppend the sleeping death apocalypse fic, read if you want to ruin yourself for two or three days but ALSO the beauty of the writing is 100% worth the devastation, one of the finest written pieces in the fandom imho. HAUNTING, gorgeous, aching, amazing. 

Play the Whistle by @zevons - Referee!AU Carraville!! What more do you need to know?! Gary and Jamie’s football dreams never came true, so they do the next best thing. Lovely Jamie&Stevie friendship. Enemies to lovers. So much snippy banter before they realize they are actually besties who want to smootch. FEEL GOOD but with tons of depth as well. 

amunt by @carraville short, punchy, poetic = classic redandgold! Valencia!Gary, pining!Jamie. Also incredible that this was written only two weeks into Gary’s appointment, BEFORE the Barcelona loss, before things unravelled, so it’s an amazing time-capsule into the fandom in late 2015 (when they didn’t know if Gary would ever come back!) 

Through fresh eyes by @aramblingjay - Jamie comes to MNF. Gary deals. Truly top-notch writing, amazing language, deft characterization. It never overindulges while remaining poignant throughout. Can be read as pre-Carraville or platonic-soulmates type friendship. It’s tagged as incomplete but it is finished. Essential reading, a classic!

Advantages of Playing Away by @zevons MNF-era testimonial blowjob in Old Trafford dressing room Carraville!! Sooo sweet, soooo hot, dialogue is sharp and funny. Just perfect <3 

Remedial Exercises in Teamwork by @zevons - more saltstreets!!! HOGWARTS AU, both of them are Gryffindor beaters (so in character for them), both obsessed with quidditch. Background!gerlonso. Implied Professor Pep/Mou !!! Detention!flirting!! I mean!!! Sir Alex the owl!!! Checks all the boxes, nostalgic, sweet, enemies to boyfriends. <3 

⚽️❤️RECENT AMAZING 2023/2024 CARRAVILLE WE ARE BLESSED WITH ❤️⚽️

Tasting Syrup on My Tongue by @heyyjulien - PLAYERS ERA!!! Jamie and Gary have a casual relationship that gets put to the test after Jamie’s injured in a derby game. Great banter-to-feels ratio, you will want to put Julien’s sweet Jamie in your pocket and give their Gary a big hug. Great romantic closing scene where they negotiate the implications of Jamie’s injury scare. Also SCHOLESY!! <3

It’s just not what’s done by @player1064 truly a Carraville writer that ‘burst onto the scene’ as fast and furious as Micah Richards! My fave of theirs. A truly hysterical premise on the surface that they plumb deep to turn up real emotion. I love the time-jump style. Wonderful David&Gary friendship, as well as all of the Co92 rallying around Gary. Covers all eras up until today, with a January 2024 Carraville in Courcheval scene!! <3 

Package Deal (It’s Valentine’s Day, ye dimwit) by @kloppinthekop My fave of their “Holiday Husbands” series. So cute and sweet and the love scene is sooooo (SOOO) hot and poignant !! Jamie taking care of Gary in every way on Valentine’s Day. Domestic feels. 

Love You More by @effervescentdragon outstanding emotional excavation, Jamie POV Carraville. Uses a slightly disorienting (in a good way) jump around style that isn’t time stamped, but if you know your Carraville, you get your footing in a sentence or two. It’s a bookended journey between ‘fuck you too’ (visceral hatred) to ‘fuck you too’ (affectionate). 

Gary Neville is Still a Red, Just a Different Shade by @fanficburner - your ultimate ABO Carraville! This isn’t for the faint-of-heart, angst abounds, I would not call this a romance! But a great character piece. Gary gets unwillingly bonded with Jamie, while still in love with Beckham. The standout part of this fic is the world-building and social implications of what an ABO society might actually look like; separate Omega changing rooms, registration offices for Omega registration, the harsh realities of an owned class of people.

#carraville #football rpf #fic recs #carraville fic recs

[fatuismooches]

Soft fragile reader + Dottore thoughts are the only thing that occupies my brain sometimes. Currently, I'm brainrotting over Dottore introducing you to dozens of modern things. We've talked about the Kamera but that's only one thing... mechanics! I don't know how much Teyvat has changed over literally hundreds of years but I assume it has to be a lot! And fragile reader would be disappointed they missed out on so many years worth of evolution from their coma... and also be very lost on how to navigate the world whenever they would be allowed to leave the lab. Like, everything is different. Your clothes from that era aren't fashionable anymore, reader (sorry ily.) Therefore the clones literally buy you a bunch of different things and you're just like... 😨 It's like a mini fashion show as these mass murderers are arguing over which color compliments you the best... (Zandik gives you a little spin and twirl as he compliments your style) Like... i know it sounds very simple but i like soft domestic Dottore + reader things 😔 Reader would definitely tailor their outfit similarly to their husband's to feel closer to him after so many years apart.

Ei was so happy by something like Dango Milk, I imagine fragile reader would be jumping for joy at the most simplest of things. You would overhear the Fatui soldiers/agents talking about things you've never ever heard about and then ask them for information, to which they obviously give you in the most respectful, monotone voice because of your husband's authority... but they're kind of confused by your practically sparkling expression. Every time you learn something new you immediately run to Zandik or a clone and start asking them for all the details! And I like to imagine you sitting on Zandik's lap as you try new delicious foods from the modern era... he really doesn't care much for food but how can he decline when you're feeding him a bite of everything? I bet reader would go bonkers if they found out that perhaps their favorite candy still exists, somehow even having new flavors! Or if their favorite book series survived, and then they'd be able to compare how writing styles and genres have changed... you rant to Zandik about them of course.

There are probably dozens of things that have changed over time, but I can't exactly think of any more that would be fluffy and cute right now. Will write more brainrot if I do 😭 Basically crazy mad scientist still making time for his darling fragile lover >> He grows to expect you sitting on his lap going on about a new thing you discovered existed now and then falling asleep frequently now.

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zzz... this man will get me through this semester #i must dottore-ify my phone #what other modern things do u think dot would introduce u to??

[rhoorl]

Week in Review: Nov. 26 | The Week Esquire Broke My Brain...Again

This week was one to give thanks for so many things - my family, my friends, my little corner of Tumblr … and the team at Esquire (we’ll get to that). I also realized this week I reached another milestone on here and while I don’t like to harp on the numbers, it really continues to floor me that anyone reads anything of mine. So I want to say thank you. I’ll spare you another sappy rambling post, but it has meant a lot to me to be here. 

With that being said, I wanted to do something fun to say thank you, but I can’t think of anything! What do others do? I’m looking around at a few ask games, but if you have one you really like, send it my way! That’s probably what I have the capacity for at the moment - because I really need to get some chapters out.

Fics I read this week:

This week I spent some time in the car, which allowed me to read a bit more than usual. Be sure to take a look at the warnings and summaries for all of my recs, just because I like it doesn’t mean everyone will.

Frankie Morales

Candy Cane by @cerridwen007 - Frankie and reader have some fun with a candy cane. Also, Frankie is still the 😺 👑

My Way by @goodwithcheese - Megan’s Frankie always does something to me and this was no exception. 

Javier Peña

Snowed In - Javier's version by @avastrasposts This one-shot was 🔥 the OFC took charge and held her own against our favorite DEA agent!

Joel Miller

Gun Cleaning by @avastrasposts - A little smutty one-shot that was oh so hot!

Dieter Bravo

Back Alley Bang by @morallyinept I really have no words for this one, just thots.

Tim Rockford

Hold Tight by @sin-djarin Tim Rockford and holsters. That's all. Oh and a brilliant use of repetition! 

Pause by @trulybetty I am really in my Tim era and this was 🔥 I want to know more about this couple and I really enjoy their dynamic.

Undercover by @secretelephanttattoo New series alert! I'm already hooked from the first chapter!

Marcus Pike

White Wine by @something-tofightfor Marcus is just the most thoughtful, ugh I love this man.

Ezra

Hue by @goodwithcheese - I don’t read a lot of Ezra compared to some of the other Pedro boys, but my goodness this was amazing. It was sweet and comforting, but Ezra is also a bit of a menace. 

Current Compulsory Series:

I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog 

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest I finally caught up!!

OTHER CHARACTERS

Benny Miller / Mitch Keller

La Primera Fiesta by @marvelousmermaid Benny attends a family party for his girlfriend's family. I related to this so much as a Latina who married a tall, lanky white guy 😆 this was too cute and Benny was adorable.

Somebody's Someone by @dameronscopilot I finished Tulsa King this week and this was the first Mitch Keller story I came across and I loved it!

Pete Dunham

Like My Dreams by @laurfilijames I recently rewatched Green Street Hooligans - I feel like the last time I saw it I was in high school, maybe college, which was a while ago. Anyways, I loved Charlie Hunnam’s character Pete and I’m excited to check out Laur’s series. 

Posts from the week:

The Pedro boys celebrated Thanksgiving with @morallyinept and things of course were chaotic but hilarious. This post from @pedrostories was so helpful as someone who consumes fanfic and attempts to write it as well!

In case you missed it, a fun writing challenge popped up that I think is pretty cool! Do I know what I’m writing yet? No. But an idea will come to me I’m sure.

Feral corner:

You know … every week I think, you know, this will be the week where I’m going to be chill and not a thirsty ass mess - ha sorry, I couldn’t finish that without laughing. I can’t help it, blame Pedro (but don’t blame him, we need to thank this man).

So, we’ve all seen the recent Esquire photos right?! The thots were thotting and I am still processing. Will you probably see me reblog this countless times over the next few weeks? Probably. Am I going to shoehorn this photoshoot into the Working Title universe?! Definitely.

Can we just acknowledge the duality of this man? How he just walk around being such a ray of sunshine and so adorable but then turn into an absolute menace? 

Things I watched:

I spent most of the week away, but I did manage to start and finish Tulsa King, which I think is a pretty big feat. Garrett has a small role in it, but 🫠 I am here for it. I did manage to pay attention to the rest of the plot, shocking I know, and I really enjoyed this story.

Personal Stuff

Spent time traveling this week so I had a lot of car time and then family time. I went to Buc-ee’s, which is always a highlight of our road trips. If you haven’t been or know what it is, picture a gas station/convenience store/general store and then multiply that by 100. Is it a bit overwhelming and overstimulating? Yes. But I guess I’m a glutton for punishment because I have to go to one every time I pass by.

The holidays caused a bit of a blip in my health journey. I’m trying to reframe my thinking about it. My initial reaction would have been to write “ugh I was so bad this week and ate so many bad foods” but instead I’m just going to acknowledge that it was a holiday and indulged a bit. But a couple of days isn’t going to completely derail the last four weeks. This time of the year can be really tough when it comes to my relationship with food, but I’m trying to give myself some grace.

Fic updates:

I got a really fun ask about how the Triple Frontier boys would celebrate Thanksgiving. It was fun to think about the guys and yes, eventually we will get to Thanksgiving in Delta Landscaping.

I’ve gotten a couple of comments and messages about Working Title and Delta Landscaping and I promise I’m working on both (I think about them both at least once daily). I have a couple of PTO days in the next couple of weeks and I’m planning on dedicating some time to both so hopefully, I can get ahead and publish a bit more frequently.

Ok, I think that’s it for this week. I hope you have a great one. Drink water, get some sleep, and have some thots.

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

#rhoorl week in review #rhoorl fic rec #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

[ghenry]

What do you think of GHMs more "Mainstream" titles such as LC, SoTD and NMH3 compared against their more underground works like Killer7, Silver Case and NMH1. I find the latter has a sense of mystique and weirdness that's missing from the former when the studio seemed pigeon-holed in a brand of "Sex, Violence and quirky"

I've been meaning to write about this here, so good question! I gave it a lot of thought after finding a JPN copy of Killer Is Dead and seeing this within the box;

Here's a quote of Suda reflecting on the production of said game;

Suda was not interested in eroticism when it came to his company's games. However, the more mainstream games GHM made (without his direction) were full of instances that were little more than eye candy. Sex appeal for the sake of it. And much of that was against Suda's will;

Paula running around in a thong (and even tits out a couple times if you played the NA version) throughout Shadows of the Damned also reminds me of Tim Rogers recalling his time working at Grasshopper as a designer in the late 2000s. He sat in a lot of meetings with Suda talking to EA and mentioned a time Suda talked about a save function idea he thought of while reflecting on Travis always using a toilet to save in the NMH games.

An early idea was Garcia going to bed with a woman every time he had to save. This was likely when the game was still going to be open world-ish and Garcia was single. From how Tim Rogers talked about this, it was pretty much the only idea Suda had that EA actually showed interest in. Obviously this idea never panned out, instead saving being delegated to a little demon that poops to signify a saved game. Funny that it connects to NMH's toilet save function in that way.

Something else worth bringing up would be the "gigolo missions" from Killer Is Dead. This also derived from a concept Suda had for Shadows of the Damned where Garcia was gonna take girls out on dates, bring flowers, and it'd actually be cute and romantic. At least, from how he described it.

(These screenshots are from Feel the Magic, a DS game where you played mini-games as you tried to win the heart of a girl throughout the story)

This idea was repurposed for Killer Is Dead, but, according to Suda, the sexual aspects of it were conjured up by Hideyuki Shin, the game's director. Therefore, it devolved into x-ray glasses, staring at boobs, and giving gifts to a robot that repeated animations. A cannibalization of the original concept.

Suda seemed afraid of Grasshopper's reputation being mutated into an identity he didn't consent to. Sex appeal is not something he really thinks about when it comes to making games. It's not his style;

The only times Suda has shown sexuality in the games he directed is when it's discomforting or deeply disturbing, almost never for eye candy.

I still appreciate games like Shadows of the Damned, Killer Is Dead, and Lollipop Chainsaw. As much as this era of GHM was railroaded to chasing some mainstream trends and trying too hard to be quirky, they still had unique aspects that help them stand out above other games of the same subgenre. But I can't help but notice a fissure between these games and the ones he actually directed. The nuance, mystery, and thought-provoking stories are most prominent when he's the one directing.

I'm not going to fault people for liking eroticism and such in video games. I've played plenty of horny games too, and there's obviously an appeal there. But anyone still expecting that from Suda is barking up the wrong tree. Looking at how he's been handling everything since 2018 makes it even sadder when you reflect how these publishers tried cramming Grasshopper Manufacture into this box they didn't want to be in.

One last thing I have to retort, though. I don't lump No More Heroes 3 with the quirky "mainstream" games the way you did in the question. Sure, NMH3 definitely went for a more mainstream marketing plan and the game got super silly at times, but it still has an interesting narrative with a ton of nuance. Way more than any GHM game between 2010-2016. Hence my 4+ hour long analysis of the game;

Many people even rejected this game outright because the eroticism and scantily-clad female cast was mostly absent. This was likely expectations they built after experiencing games like NMH2, SotD, LC, etc.

Speaking a bit more on the sense of eroticism, it's funny to think how that was admittedly present in NMH1, obnoxiously expanded upon in NMH2, and then mostly done away with in NMH3. Going as far as turning Naomi--and her balloon tits--into a goddamn tree!

However, I don't believe Suda turned Naomi into a tree for the sole purpose of removing her sex appeal. I believe this just further accentuates how that aspect is not something he's interested in or finds important for the game itself. He likely didn't even think of it that way, but instead "Hey, she should be a tree now."

And then there's Kimmy, whose death was not only a very harrowing moment in the game, it was also depicted in a sexual manner. Similar to Bad Girl's death in the original NMH. Note the motions and angles in her death scene.

Like I said, this rather disturbing sense of sexuality is more Suda's vibe. And I'm happy to see he hasn't lost that edge, so many years later. Anyway, thanks for the question! I had a lot of fun writing out this answer.

#suda51 #grasshopper manufacture #killer7 #nmh3 #no more heroes #no more heroes 3 #lollipop chainsaw #shadows of the damned #killer is dead #the silver case

[kcrossvine-art]

Hey folks n blokes! A few days ago ya might've been one of the people who helpfully responded to my question asking which LotR recipe we should cook next, and you all had great ideas. Including a golum salmonella sushi platter. There were a few that twinkled directly into my eyes, but only one fish gets fried at a time! Thanks @vensre for the suggestion!

Today from Lord of the Rings, we will be making Bilbo Baggin's Seed Cakes

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Seed Cake?” YOU MIGHT ASKIf you're an amer*can like me, you might have never heard of a seed cake outside of the context of bird feeders.

Salted butter

Fine sugar

Whole milk

Eggs

Almond flour

Vanilla extract

Brown sugar

Caraway/fennel seeds

Ground anise seed

Ground nutmeg

The real key ingredient here is the caraway seeds. The factor that ties all recipes together. Important note, anise seeds and anise stars are 2 separate things!

AND, “what does a Seed Cake taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKTastes like what an old bookstore smells like.

Smells like warm licorice

But without the chemical-y aftertaste

Take a shortbread and make it denser and with less airpockets. Thats your texture.

A little bit like gingerbread but nuttier, earthier

Very rich

Beautiful crumbly brown outside, soft teddybear-brown inside

Pairs well with a glass of milk hahaha

"A wonderful blend of sweet and savoury, seed cakes make a perfect after-supper morsel."-LotR Online. Mentioned both in the books and the MMO, being served after dinner ties into their real-life origins! Before caraway seeds in cakes became popular in the victorian era, they were often candied and served as dessert because caraway seeds help with after-meal indigestion.

. used an herb grinder for the anise seeds . used light brown sugar where brown sugar called for . used blanched almond flour . if i made this again, would probably use higher quantity of nutmeg or add cinammon

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From entering the kitchen, to having this in my stomach, it took roughly 2 hours? Ish? Definitely make sure to let your 2 sticks of butter and 3 eggs sit out a bit beforehand so they reach room temp, it helps them whip together the warmer they are.

The most difficult part of this recipe was finding the seeds. Everything except the caraway/fennel and anise seed i already had, and maybe its a recent thing but since when did grocery stores start charging such an obscene amount for a regular bottle of spices? Is it not enough to have everything else infected by price-gouging, now we'll be scraping pennies for our little flavor heavens? Bleh. 

The seed cake is a new experience for me also, and many pardons if some sacred seed cake rule has been broken today. It tasted fantastic! The licorice was a strong flavor I've never experienced in this form before, it suits itself well. If you're baking for children or have a sweeter palette, the bitterness may be a bit much, but just have them dunk it in milk honestly. It did feel like there was some 'empty space' on my palette while eating- if that makes any sense? It couldve been layered with another flavor but i still can't put my finger on what that missing flavor could be.

Definitely be careful to put the eggs into the butter/sugar a little bit at a time. I got impatient the first-go, and the eggs incorporated less, and it led to a greasier cake. People seem to say that storing these and eating them the next day makes them taste better, i cannot attest as i ate both within the same day of making them. 

This recipe has earned itself a glimmering 7/10, for making my kitchen smell nice but also making me use a standmixer if i want my arms to stay attached (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

220g salted butter

225g fine sugar

16g of milk

3 eggs

175g almond flour

2 drops vanilla extract

Pinch of brown sugar

1tbsp caraway seeds

1 1/2tbsp  ground anise seed

1/2tsp ground nutmeg

Method:

Pre-heat the oven to 320F. Soften the butter and let eggs come to room temperature. 

Cream the butter by itself for around 5 minutes with a standmixer on med., until light in color. Add sugar and continue until the mixture is pale and fluffy.

In a seperate bowl beat the eggs until 'frothy'. 

Stir a small amount at a time of the eggs iinto the butter and sugar mixture, making sure each portion incorporates as you go.

Add the caraway, ground anise seed, ground nutmeg, and vanilla extract.

Gently fold in the almond flour. Careful not to overmix.

Add a tablespoon of milk, or until the batter keeps its form but drips off an upside down spoon.

Pour into a greased 9-inch round cake pan, if not available muffin/cupcake pans should also work.

Sprinkle a bit of brown sugar on top.

Bake for 40-50 minutes. Cool for 10 before serving.

#lotr #cake recipe #the hobbit #bilbo baggins

[sorenblr]

not much interesting bits on vengeance. 5 is the game that does NOT need another cast member but o well. One thing that did catch my eye was demon tag team spells, where Scathach and Cu Chulainn did an attack together and another one involving Cerberus, Orthrus, Hydra, & Chimera.

Yeah, it's surprising to me how little they've pushed fusion/team spells since the PS2 era. There's an entire compendium full of figures from interconnected mythologies to draw on, so it's always felt like leaving money on the table. But it's also the sort of superfluous, additive flourish that feels right at home with the changes these remasters bring, so, there you go.

Yoko brings in the "cool older sister" that was missing from the original cast of stereotypes. Maximum market penetration is just one more design trope away- this time, I can feel it.

I don't have much to say for the rest of this. Konohana-Sakuya is alright; a rare, non-leering portrayal from Doi. She looks like a watermelon candy.

#ask #smt #megaten #smtv #smtv: vengeance #shin megami tensei v: vengeance #masayuki doi

[spacequokka]

For Me | Day 5

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader Genre: Fluff Rating: G Summary: Baekhyun invites you over for a Christmas movie marathon. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: established relationship

Here's a fluffy drabble set sometime after part two.

Baekhyun was the kind of guy who got hyped up for holidays. He always went all out for Christmas. Competing with his neighbors for the highest light bill generated by the decorative mass of lights and lawn decorations was his newest hobby. His apartment was no exception. The interior would make Martha Stewart proud with the copious amounts of garland, candy canes, and holly adorning every surface. The man was a menace, right down to his meticulously wrapped presents and perfectly hung mistletoe.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open instantly. Baekhyun greeted you with a bright smile on his face. He was wearing a red and green flannel, a Santa hat perched on his head, and had even drawn a fake white beard on with eyeliner. "_____! You made it!" he exclaimed and pulled you into a warm hug.

“If I missed this, you'd come find me and drag me back here," you replied, engulfed with the mixed scent of cinnamon and pine as it wafted through the door.

"Of course, it wouldn't be a Christmas movie marathon without you," Baekhyun chuckled, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

"Not true. You could snatch Taemin and never notice the difference."

"Please. He doesn't get why I watch the same movies every year." He stepped back and gestured for you to come inside, revealing his apartment transformed into a cozy haven of holiday delights.

"True, but I wouldn't say I entirely understand it, either." You shrugged. "I just like seeing that little giddy smile you get. It's cute as hell." Baekhyun blushed at your compliment, the warmth of the room seeming to intensify as his gaze met yours. "Besides, they're not bad movies, and I like free food."

"Well," He took your coat and traded your shoes for fuzzy slippers that matched his, "there's no shortage of food this year. I managed to get that chicken place we like to give me a catering discount."

"Catering? For just two people?" You looked at him then over his shoulder towards the kitchen. The buffet he'd set up looked like it could feed a football team. "You're gonna get sick from eating too much, watch."

"Nooo," he whined, throwing his arms around you again. "You're here to help too! Whatever's leftover will feed me for the rest of the week."

"As long as you're not trying to overfeed me." You led the way to the couch and plopped down. "So, what are we starting off with? Comedy? Horror? Hallmark?"

He settled down beside you with two mugs of hot chocolate. "I was thinking classics. How about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? I saw the DVD in store and got hit with nostalgia."

"Ooh! I love those. They have an old-school charm to them, like Charlie Brown era stuff."

"See? You get me! That's why you're my baby." He pulled you close and kissed all over your cheek. "Okay, okay. So I made the cocoa when I got your text, so it should be safe to drink. If you get hungry before this one's over, we can pause and load up."

You nodded. "Gotcha. Until then," you put your legs over his and cuddled into him, "I just wanna get warm."

"Oh, I'm great at that." He pressed his face into your neck, lips tickling your skin. "Just some touches and kisses and you'll be on fire."

"Oh my gawd, you goober. Stawp!" You giggled, weakly pushing at his head and hands until he pulled away. The loud fanfare of the movie drew his attention away, allowing you both to settle down. Moments like these were the best. Just being held in his arms, being the most important part of his cute little tradition, were the moments you lived for.

Neither of you spoke much during the movie until his stomach growled loudly. His face scrunched up, and he paused the movie, looking at you with puppy eyes. "Babe—"

"Time to hit up your buffet?" You suggested with a teasing smile. He nipped at your neck again, then nodded.

"Please?" His voice was muffled, making you laugh out at his silliness.

"Come on. Let's see what you got."

As he unwrapped and unboxed the feast he'd ordered, you regretted eating anything at all that day. The spread was enough to give Thanksgiving a run for its money. "Stop looking at me like that! It's not that much food."

"My love, not that much for who? Are you inviting more people over?"

He shook his head. "Nope. This is all for you—well, us—but I didn't want you to need to leave or order anything. I have a case of wine, desserts, even that honey bun you said you liked from the donut shop."

You mulled his words over. "Wait, how long am I staying?"

His eyes sparkled. "As long as you want to. You said you had a few days off and we've both been caught up with work…"

You put a hand over your chest, then pulled him in for another quick hug. "Jesus Christ. Every time I think I've seen you at peak cuteness, you raise the bar. My heart can't take this if you keep maxing out the adorable boyfriend on me."

He bit his lip, and for a second, you could tell he was lost in thought. "…Boyfriend."

You side-eyed him. "Yes." A Byun in deep thought could be a troublemaker if left to his own devices. "A boyfriend I love and adore very much."

He nodded and luckily left it at that, pulling out plates and forks for you while you picked up the pretty festive wine glasses he'd put out for the occasion. Soon enough, you both were back on the couch with your food and drinks, continuing the movie. When that one went off, he let you pick the next movie, so you opted for your favorite, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"You know," you said in between bites of the crispy, fried chicken he went "to the ends of the world" to get, "their relationship reminds me of how ours started out. I'm really thankful we had the chance to change things."

He watched you for a bit, then nodded. "Me too. More than words can express." He picked up his cup for a swig of wine. "But I'd like to change things again."

You looked at him, eyes wide. "In what way?"

He put down his plate and wiped his fingers on a napkin, prompting you to do the same. Whatever he was about to say had to be serious. "Well," he rubbed his hands together, the movie quickly forgotten as it continued playing, "I bought this townhouse with the intention of you moving in with me at some point."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's why you insisted I tag along for the viewing."

He turned toward you. "We never really set a date for that, y'know? And with Christmas coming up, it feels like there's no better time than the present."

You couldn't help but smile. "Is this your way of asking me to move in?"

"I mean, I think I could do better, but--" You cut him off with a kiss before throwing your arms around him.

"Nah, I like this. It's all cute and flustered and you." You kissed his cheek before sighing. "You're lucky I've been thinking about it too, with me missing you so much. I realized I wouldn't have to miss you if I could wake up and go to bed with you. So, I may have been packing already."

"You're serious?" He pulled back to look at you. "Please, don't joke about this. I don't think my heart could take it."

You shook your head, smile growing wider. "I pretty much just need to hire a moving service and figure out what to do with the furniture I don't need to keep."

"I love you so much," he bear-hugged you, peppering your face with kisses. "Just hearing that makes me feel better. This will be the best Christmas I’ve ever had."

#kvanity #kchristmas #exo-writers-net #exo fluff #baekhyun fluff #superm fluff #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #happy holidays!

[spacevixenmusic]

Unfairly Maligned Games, Vol. 2

Games I loved that got low scores, review bombed, or have some other weird negative stigma attached to them that I think is unfairly earned.

NOTE: I don't believe in giving games a number score or a letter grade. Maybe I'm just bad at criticism or very easy to please, whatever.

We Happy Few [2018]

Originally advertised as some kind of procedurally-generated stealth horror survival game that people kept insisting was "like BioShock" even though there is literally zero correlation or even vague resemblance to BioShock, this game's crowdfunded development process was a long hard rollercoaster ride through concept and scope changes, getting picked up by major studios and publishers, a constantly evolving marketing campaign, and a loud, rude blasting of negative press right before and right after launch due to bad take misinformation and some game-breaking bugs on Day One.

We Happy Few started as a Kickstarter project from Compulsion Games, a small studio known only for their previous game Contrast. In Contrast, you play as a child's silent imaginary friend in a cabaret dancer costume who can phase in and out of backgrounds to become a shadow on the wall and solve platforming puzzles. Working together, you help the child navigate through her emotions as her parents struggle through their own relation-shit in an early 1900s European port town. Seeing as their first game was stylish as hell and widely praised among indie crowds, it's no surprise that a Kickstarter for a new game from that studio became an instant success, so much so that it caught the eye of several big studios (Microsoft and Gearbox Publishing), and it quickly turned into a vastly bigger project with many more hands working on it. The proc-gen element was downtuned and streamlined, and the main emphasis of the game became about survival, stealth, and story.

And let me tell you. In terms of story, this game is phenomenal. The simple premise is that you play through the lives of three people living in 1950s-60s England, under a government that is forcing everyone to take these candy pills called Joy that make you instantly and excessively cheerful, so you can easily forget about all the horrible things that the government wants you to forget ever happened about The War, the Missing Children, and all the people still actively dying of malnutrition from the ongoing Famine and all that. The people are mandated to forget their worries, grin and bear it, pretend everything's just peachy keen, and if you refuse to take that pill, people will notice your un-cheerful behavior and call the police to track you down and beat you senseless. Can't have any Downers in our perfectly lovely happy town, now can we?

The game's art direction features two stark parallels between a dreary English village and early 60s-70s psychedelia (with a hint of A Clockwork Orange for good measure), and a soundtrack influenced by bands of the era, such as The Doors, The Beatles, The Byrds, etc. The dichotomy of looting dilapidated rural homes while avoiding plague-ridden peasants versus the rainbow streets and lava lamp light show sex dens in the cities is truly astonishing. It's a game about, funnily enough, Contrasts between the bright and cheerful life everyone is forced to think they're living, and the grim depressing reality that lies underneath. Many people initially assumed this meant the game had some kind of anti-drug message about not relying on your depression medication cause pills can't fix everything, but it's clear right from the get-go that's nowhere near the case. We Happy Few is a story about revisionist history, the pressure to conform, submission to a corrupt system that might not even know what it's doing, and the very British notion of Keeping Calm and Carrying On as if major atrocities hadn't just been committed in a massive world war.

Gameplay-wise, this is a strange hybrid of survival and stealth, with combat definitely being present, but taking a backseat for the most part. It's much easier to distract enemies than fight them, and many of the characters excel at hiding in plain sight, provided you don't do anything to make people suspicious, like running and jumping around or breaking into houses to raid them for food. You do have options and skill trees though, so the game does allow you to tailor it to your own playstyle to a degree. I had significantly more fun playing it slow and methodical, sneaking up and choking out enemies, and watching NPCs bump into each other awkwardly while quoting ancient English literature for no apparent reason. Taking it slow, reading every scrap of paper and Journal I found, my final playtime was about 50~ hours.

Again though, let me gush about the story for a second. The base game has three full chapters, each of which has you play as a different character with different strengths and game mechanics (including such wildly inventive ideas as the burden of motherhood taking up inventory space if you don't periodically check on the baby you have to leave at home, and carefully maintaining a balanced blood sugar level so you don't collapse?!). Their stories are all deeply connected in ways that aren't immediately apparent but are cool as hell once the pieces of the puzzle come together. Each chapter more or less takes place at the same time, but the events always play out slightly differently, because memory-altering drugs fuck with your sense of reality and make us all question the reliability of each narrator. If that wasn't already cool enough, the game also features three DLC packages where you play as three ADDITIONAL characters, each of whom is also a recognizable face in the main story if you're paying attention. These DLCs add even more neat mechanics and open up the story events even more in and around the main game. They were honestly all an absolute blast to play, especially if you were already as invested in the story as I was. And the subject material goes all over the place, touching on such highly specific topics as 60s science fiction, gay lovers, Beatlemania, trippy drug-induced murder mysteries, the British occupation of India, and plenty more. I can't stress enough what a unique storytelling experience this game has to offer. It really is unlike anything else I've ever played! But alas, we should probably talk about why nobody else seems to be as enthused about the game as I am...

Aside from the huge misunderstanding about the game's message, We Happy Few was bombed with criticism on Day One due to some major bugs that hadn't been ironed out - remember, for a $60 game backed by some big names in the industry, it was still very much an indie passion project from the start, and it's clear it wasn't given the full AAA treatment at all. Several big-name Game Reviewers (a field I detest almost as much as Cartoon Reviewers) ripped into the game for its bugs, and while I can't fault people for being mad at broken quests and at least one full-on softlock, not everyone experienced those bugs, and many of them were ironed out in later patches. It's almost like chasing those Day One reviews and videos are a bad idea for people who want to Enjoy Games. Sadly, first impressions are all that seem to matter anymore in gaming, so those early negative reviews still sting to this day. But people out there will give games like Skyrim a perfect 10/10 despite a significant number of similar bugs (hell, they're almost a charm of the series at this point), so why should an indie game not be given the same graces?

In closing? We Happy Few is a phenomenal story in a completely fresh setting that really doesn't feel like anything else before it. The game has been criticized to hell and back for its early bugs or for "boring" gameplay or whatever the Review outlets chose to report, but to me it stands out as an extremely unique experience in a sea of Lowest Common Denominator games. I'd rather play an imperfect or buggy game with a unique or highly niche premise than yet another polished piece of pristine pop pleasure, and I genuinely think people would enjoy games like We Happy Few if they just lowered their goddamn expectations for once in their lives.

#unfairly maligned games #we happy few #fuck the haters I have nothing but love and praise for this game #it hit ALL my pleasure sensors and really resonated with me #and if I can convince even one other person to try it then I have succeeded in my mission

[ellisgirl]

Ellis Twilight — Doting LoveHolic Collection Event

Doted on by Ellis

I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.

Coming back to my translation era, I finally excluded Japanese honorifics since this takes place in London. Enjoy this sweetie floof patootie🤍

(Oh....?)

Ellis: "Are you okay? Miss Kate.”

When I opened my eyes, there was a worried Ellis and the ceiling of my familiar room.

(That's right, I...)

I recall feeling dizzy when I returned to the castle after my mission.

Ellis: "You suddenly collapsed. Mr. Roger examined you and said you would be anaemic and tired."

Ellis: "Victor is making soup with plenty of spinach in a hurry."

(Huh?)

Kate: "These things at the bedside are...?"

Ellis: "The water is Liam. Harry is the candy. That is from......”

After Ellis carefully told me who each item is from, I raised my eyebrows a little apologetically.

Ellis: "I was so worried about you, I was in such a hurry and didn't prepare anything, so I ended up being by your side like this."

Kate: “So that's what happened. Sorry to worry you....”

(Ah…..)

As I stumble to raise my body from the bed, Ellis holds me in his arms.

Ellis: ".....Don't get up too fast.”

Kate: ".....Oh, I'm sorry."

Ellis: “No. Sleep again. Your job today is to get some rest."

(Ellis is right. If I push myself too hard, I might cause trouble again.)

I nodded and laid my body on the bed, and Ellis's hand gently touched my forehead.

Ellis: "I wonder if it's a little hot.... Shall I cool it down?

I hastily call out to Ellis, who is wetting and wringing out a towel that was by his side with water.

Kate: “I'm fine. It's just anemia.”

Ellis: "You always say you're fine."

(Eh…..)

Ellis: “And yet you are so caring and kind to everyone."

Ellis's words that flowed into my heavy head made me really happy.

Kate: "....Thank you very much, Ellis. But that's not true...."

Ellis: "The things placed by your bedside are proof of that."

Ellis: "That's why"

Ellis's hand places a cool towel on my forehead, avoiding my bangs.

Ellis: "I've always wanted to spoil you like this."

Ellis: “You work hard every day. Thank you."

(…..Ngh)

Kate: "Ellis is spoiling me enough, isn't he?"

Ellis: “Oh… Is that so?”

Kate: "Yes, it is.”

Ellis: “If so, I'd like to spoil you even more. .....Can I?"

Perhaps it's because I'm weak, I want to lean on Ellis's kindness that melts me into a soggy mess.

(Just for today, you can spoil me..... right?)

Kate: "Well, if you don't mind my asking, could you get me a glass of water there?"

Ellis: "Yeah. I'll make you drink it by my mouth."

Kate: “…You can’t do that.”

Ellis: "Fufu, I'm sorry. I was just kidding."

After that, Ellis gave me a cup of soup that Victor had brought for me to drink.

The soup with plenty of spinach fills your mind and body softly.

(When my body warms up, I'm getting sleepy......)

Ellis: "...Are you sleepy? It's okay, go to sleep."

Ellis: "I'll stay by your side until you fall asleep."

Sitting on the bed, Ellis pats me on the blanket as if to soothe me.

It's like a gentle lullaby.

Ellis: ".....When I was still young, there was a child who stayed by my side like this when I couldn't sleep."

Ellis: "......We spent sleepless nights hugging each other and holding hands."

Ellis: “I think I sleep better when I know someone is there with me."

Ellis's voice melts into the soft twilight air.

It gave me an indescribable comfort, and even the contours of my consciousness melted into the air.

(...just a little longer ...I want to be in this air...)

(b…..ut…..)

…

Ellis: “…Miss Kate?”

Ellis: "Are you asleep?"

Ellis: “………..”

Ellis: ".....The truth is, as soon as I heard you had fallen ill, I got you a blanket."

Ellis: "But I lied because I thought I could be by your side if I pretended not to have anything prepared."

Ellis: “I'm sorry I lied to you. Good night, Miss Kate.”

…

I had a deep, deep dream.

I couldn't get out of bed for some reason, but it's a dream that Ellis just spoils me.

Ellis: “It's okay, Miss Kate. .....I'm here for you."

Ellis: “I will spoil you, love you, and make you happy."

Smiling at me like that, his words filled my heart like a sweet poison.

Even after I woke up from my dream, I somehow wanted to see Ellis.

…FIN…

Masterlist

#ikemen villains #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikemen series #ikemen villains collection event #ikevil translations #ikevil

[radio-ghost-cooks]

this is lowkey a tensimm drabble bc I am thinking abt ✨️them✨️

tags: thoschei, 14th doctor, simm!master (somehow), they/them pronouns for the Doctor, he/it pronouns for the Master, academy era names, fluff, really just tooth rotting fluff, domesticity, cuddling, a little hurt/comfort, they get to see the stars guys

thinking abt thoschei but with 14

thinking abt the Master showing up on 14's doorstep one day with tears in his eyes and begging for a new start. he's so tired of being opposing forces. he's so tired of hurting each other. he wants to see the stars with them. finally.

besides... it's not even supposed to be alive right now. it should still be a tooth. but it isn't. because here it is. and yeah, they both reason, that's totally a valid reason to start living together for the first time since they were kids. because one of them is No Longer Stuck In A Tooth and they're both pretty much retired, honestly.

thinking abt them getting used to each other again. they didn't exactly separate on friendly terms. but being stuck in someone's mouth for years and suddenly having a relaxed existence kind of makes you forgive and (mostly) forget. the Master doesn't really know what to do with himself on Earth. what is there to do around here? break things? read? sit in silence?

thinking abt the Doctor and the Master trying to learn to skate (with Donna and Rose laughing at the both of them the entire time). the Doctor and the Master scaling a big ol tree in the middle of the woods and shouting from the top of it because yeah, that sounds like a totally normal pastime! it was surprisingly fun! the Doctor realizing they can keep their partner (boyfriend? husband?? joyfriend???) entertained rather easily with one of those cheap plastic easter eggs that you fill with candy. according to it, snapping it open feels like breaking something.

which is only mildly concerning.

thinking abt Donna giving the Doctor a picnic hamper and them immediately taking the Master out to Somewhere In Space to just sit and look at the stars and eat. the Doctor explains that it's called a "picnic date" and they're supposed to be very romantic indeed. the Master just flings a spoonful of potato salad at them and cackles as he himself is whacked with a dinner roll.

"I said this was supposed to be romantic, love!" the Doctor shouts, flopping down onto his back and laughing like a fool. "love?" the Master asks, "do you call me that now?" the Doctor just shrugs. "I suppose I do now, yeah." the Master lays down next to them and mumbles, "I'm still fond of Koschei."

and just like that the Doctor melts into a fucking puddle as they roll onto their side and kiss the Master while it complains about getting salad cream on its face. they're just humming "Koschei. my Koschei," and nuzzling into its hair for a few minutes before the Master tucks itself into the Doctor's side and purring (yes, it can purr), "Theta... missed this. missed you."

thinking abt the two of them cuddling in the doorway of the TARDIS in the middle of space with pink-purple-blue galaxies swirling just beyond the walls of the blue box and splitting a takeout container of chips.

thinking abt them and I'm going feral

#thoschei #the doctor #doctor x master #simm!master #14th doctor #I'm really feeling it today #/neu #I want them to be happy #let them be gay together #I want a goofy ahh partner like them #I'll take either #my fic #my writing #the master

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a match-up for Harry Potter! Specifically the Marauders Era.

Female, She/They, Pansexual

Plus size!, but more thighs (and boobs) than anything, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, i have glasses,

My personality is loving, patient, (surprisingly) smart and good at classes, but that's probably bc I'm determined and work hard- I can be really sassy though, nurturing, I have to stick to a semi strict schedule, forgiving, and I guess caring, also im an ambivert!! (I just kinda looked up personality traits and went with what I thought fit me. Bear with me.)

Likes: Reading, writing, SWEATERS, school, candles, blankets, sour candy, chocolate, sunflowers, sunsets, the moon

Dislikes: When my schedule gets completely destroyed, sudden and really big change, people who chew with their mouth open, feeling really embarrassed and like everyone is judging me, olives,

Extra fun facts: I have chronic headaches, bad knee problems in my right knee 😍, if I have an assignment I will always do way too much for it

Hope that's okay and you're okay with doing this, and I hope i did it right!!! Sorry for any spelling mistakes :)

Annos, please never apologize for spelling errors, lol. I don't know if you've read my posts, but I can not spell either. I am incredibly reliant on Grammarly, and my partner makes fun of me for it regularly.

Also, does anyone else pretend/feel like that lady from Mulan when they do these matchups? No, just me. Aight, I'll be in the corner now.

~~~~~MATCH UP~~~~~

Annon, I must match you with the sweetest boy of the tricksters.

Remus Lupin

~~Headcanons~~

This man would bake you and buy you the best chocolates. He will curb your sweet tooth like no tomorrow.

He respects a girl who is not afraid to be herself, and if anyone tries to put you down and make you get in your head, he's not scared to be a big bad wolf ( see what I did there )

He loves it when you can put up with his three headaches. Wait, he means friends.

He would want to study with you all the time, so much so that James, Sirius, and Peter complain about missing their friend.

MANS WOULD WEAR MATCHING SWEATERS PROVE ME WRONG

Remus strikes me as the guy who will get you flowers just because, so expect to be showered with your favorites. However, he always forgets that he should buy you flowers on a holiday.

Though he is afraid of the full moon, watching the skies with you any other time has become an enjoyable pastime, especially to see you light up.

When he has to hide away for the full moon, he makes you a goodie basket to 'remember' him by till he comes back.

If you are ever feeling unwell or hurt, he will carry you up to his dorm and make you comfy in his bed. He will get you all the fixings to cure your ailments. I'm talking hot water bottles, heavy blankets, blackout curtains, water, pain medicine, and, of course, cuddles.

~~~~~Blurb~~~~~

You sat in the library waiting for Remus to arrive for your study date. As you finished your potion essay for him to look over, an exhausted, panting Sirius appeared before you. You looked up at him, amused, "Y/N, I am telling you we need him for Quidditch. Please, please, tell him to skip Hogsmeade this weekend." As Sirius was begging, he got down on his knees.

Around the corner soon came James looking almost as exhausted as the other boy in front of you. You chuckle into your hand, knowing that the Librarian will soon grow tired of the Maurder's antics. "Boys, you know he is his own person, right? What makes you think I have any say." You looked at the boys innocently. With a scoff, Sirius stood, wrapping his arm around James' shoulder. "Y/N, the man is so in love with you that he talks to you in his dreams. Of course, he will listen to you."

Before you could open your mouth again, James and Sirius were on the floor, this time due to a perfectly timed nudge to the back of their knees. Remus looked up at you and smiled softly, "Hi, my sweet. I brought you some treats." Placing down your candy, which he knew you favored, he sat across from you, ready to study.

James popped up from the floor, "Look, Y/N, he's even wearing a matching jumper with you! We have asked to match as a group of friends for ages. You can't tell me this man isn't whipped." You laughed at the remark, watching Remus nudge the back of James' knee again, causing him to collapse.

~~~~~EXTRA~~~~~

(You are looking up at the stars with the whole friend group. Your head is placed in Remus' lap. Peter is asleep lounging on the grass. Sirius, James, and Lily are all leaning back, looking at the stars.)

Y/N: Do you think that when the first people watched the stars, they thought they were crazy when they started moving each night.

Sirius: Wait, do the stars move each night?

James: I thought it was the moon that moved.

Lily: Sometimes it amazes me how you two breathe on your own.

Remus: (rubbing his temples, feeling the headache coming on) I'm glad someone else said it.

I hope you enjoy!!

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #lilly evans #match up #x reader #head canon