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iznsfw · 7 months

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Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard

Momoland's Nancy McDonie x Jeon Somi x Male Reader Smut

20,859 words

Categories | popular!Nancy and Somi, threesome, blowjob, titjob, anal, spanking, fluff, also if you get the reference(s) I love you

Thank you for commissioning! Was tough to find time to write during exam season but fuck it we ball.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

See here: you're young. It's too early to worry about reputation—(oh, what a word, by the way, with its promise of faint or fail)—but a great, great place to start.

You didn't know about that second part until you met Somi and Nancy.

First, picture this: your story is a movie, the rare one where the male character is the lead of the story although—let's face it—it's them everyone's reading this for. Not you, not your style, not nada and zip. Everyone is and always will be here for them:

Jeon Somi and Nancy McDonie. They're teen royalty. Only a few students ever get to say they held that title. Not that it's of any importance later in life but what matters more than the present? The juniors look at them green with envy, and with the seniors, the ones who are all proud in their recent age of adulthood, either like them but hate to say it and "hate" them but like them too much to say it. It's that simple. It’s that complicated, too, at the same time.

And, admittedly, it’s… a lot to take in.

Strangely, you're not in either of those categories despite being a senior yourself. The difference is that you like them, and aren't afraid to say it. After all, you owe them a lot for helping you get out of your shell.

Well, not at first. But that’s how it works, right? You, Somi, and Nancy don’t immediately become friends right from the get-go. There has to be some kind of story behind it, and you’re willing to tell yours.

It all started… well, like this:

You enrolled into a new school sometime after your eighteenth or nineteenth birthday. Yep, you really couldn’t remember. It’s all been in a flash with them, makes you feel a little dumb. All you know was it was the worst present to have: being required to join an institution that was as unfamiliar as it was unwanted. Like, fucking hell—this early? You were just a kid! Well, not anymore, but there had to be some kind of consideration for this, right? An exception that could be made?

Unfortunately, signing up for a new school was not a subject up for debate. It wasn’t something you could bargain yourself out of. No promises to be good, no extra chores, nothing. Your parents were firm on deciding that you were in need of a fresh new start.

And it just sort of happened that this clean slate you had? You ruined it completely.

Oh, it was classic teenage rebellion. You did almost everything you could to buy your way out of circumstances that didn't go how you wanted them to. You wouldn't say it was totally uncalled for. You had friends at your old school you thought you'd forever be with—the way you saw it, no one could just pull that away from you.

Alas, here you were. You'd been in this classroom more times than you could remember. Neither you nor the presidents spoke. No one was willing to break the ice.

Finally, sun melted the cold and replaced the winter with a fiery, hot summer. "You again?" Nancy McDonie leaned on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her expression was that of someone who's going through a cruel cycle of same-shit-different-day. You knew what that's all about. "I swear, we see you here every Tuesday."

And what a privilege that was. Sarcasm? A little.

"Oh?" you said. You did your own leaning on the backrest of the chair and put your arms behind your head. "Well, it's not like I enjoy it here."

Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. To be truthful, you didn’t know either at the time, so… well—you’re left involved in another banter with the two leaders of the student government. You didn’t see why you had to be sent to them every time you did something even just the littlest bit of wrong, but here you were. This was routine already. As everyday and usual as brushing your teeth and showering.

Nancy squinted her eyes at you, and you stared right back unnervingly. Neither of you were going to give up a silent fight like that.

"If you did," Jeon Somi quipped, beside her best friend with her hands on her own hips, "we'd understand. I mean, look at us."

She didn't have to remind you. Both girls were prettier than they should be. ‘Cause look here for a minute: Nancy's got this long caramel hair going on for her, and it extends long beyond her shoulder blades, framing her amazing curves and slim arms. She's the push to Somi's pull—Nancy is the calmer one, the girl who takes things more seriously.

To be fair, Somi does her own taking, too. Just not in the same way. She's blonder, bustier, more extroverted. She walks life with an unrestrained laugh unfit for such a gorgeous girl and feet clad with platform school shoes that always carry her in paces around the classroom. She's kind enough to cast a blind eye on some of your offenses, but too princess-y to keep her words about herself humble.

You say these in present tense because later on, when the circumstances change and so do the seasons, you'd find out that's truly who they are. Your relationship would change but they wouldn't. They're still the same Somi and Nancy who are always glued to each other, always giggling, always the it girls, always the most popular girls in school.

One day, the punishment for your routine offenses would be death caused by them, and even that you'd welcome. Oh, just imagine…

"Let me guess." The brunette girl tapped her finger on the desk surface. Lucky piece of wood. "You didn't pay the treasurer again?"

You sighed and fiddled with your pencil. Scratches from the pointed led were imprinted on the olden table attached to the seat. You bit back a remark about how the class treasurer was as corrupt as a politician withering away with the hope the graft charges would, too. "Wrong," you said, steadily. "I accidentally spray-painted miss Seo during arts.”

Your truth was met with silence.

“She looked like she came out of a unicorn's asshole," you helpfully added.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Ah, well, of course you did—it was impossible to forget when it happened fifty fucking minutes ago. Yes, you counted down, because the surprise that took over you when you squeezed the nozzle of the can on a teacher you didn’t even know was behind you was everything to remember. Every color of the rainbow was soaking her dress pants and blouse, making her become the personification of a lively Pride parade.

(You didn’t leave that detail out for your poor victim not to hear, when you said: “Gay rights, anybody?”

Looking back, that was prooobably what got you into another meeting with the girls. The teachers had some real strange beliefs.)

Somi snorted, then started to laugh boisterously, so much that her body rocked downwards. To be fair, it started out as a small chuckle. Things went from this to that and suddenly it worked itself into a full cackle.

She slapped Nancy on the shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized; (it was useless), “but that shit’s so… fffucking—”

"It's not funny, Somi," Nancy said with a more solid voice than that of her friend’s. "Hey. Hey, it's not funny!"

“Just think about it, babe.” Somi, still snickering, tried to put some sense in her, tried to make her see what made it so funny. “Think of the gay flag. Now—listen—imagine it as mean old miss Seo. You see where I’m going?”

“Still not funny.”

"C'mon, prez," you told the unconvinced girl. You flung your hands in the air nonchalantly. "Live a little."

"Yeah, Nance," echoed Somi cheerfully, poking her best friend’s cheek. She was the only one who could ever do that to her. Any other person and they’d be found dead in a ditch alongside their reputation. And god, did it matter a lot to young’uns like you. "Live a little."

"Don't call me that.”

Somi shut her mouth. From what you noticed, she was the lesser contained of the two of them. She spoke with a sailor’s mouth that had the accent and vocabulary of a valley girl. Kind of true—she was filthy rich. You saw her parents during the senior acquaintance party and it wasn’t that hard to figure out she was wealthy when you saw her father slip her her allowance. Also, her mother was dressed in the best and latest trends, looking younger than she really was with how she held herself. Only rich people and really exemplary actresses could pull that off.

"And what was your offense the previous week?" Nancy went on. She was leaning forward now, unintentionally offering you the best view a horny senior could wish for: her bust struggling to be held inside her uniform blouse.

A distraction, that's what it was. Oh, fuck, now Somi was doing it, too. Both girls are busty, full breasts begging to be freed from fabric. You should have really requested undressing them as your punishment, but it was clear that it was probably what they wanted and this was simply to coerce answers from you, unintentional or not.

They still held their dynamics, even when they’re forcing words out of you. They went hand in hand, pairing up together like they were born to be friends: the angel that was Nancy, and the little devil Somi was; good cop (in a way) Somi, and bad cop Nancy.

You weren’t gonna say their methods didn’t work. You gulped. Since when did you sound like a shitty literotica author with two sales? "I started a food fight in the cafeteria."

"And the previous week?"

"I tripped mister Brown in the hallway because he failed me."

"And the week before that?"

"I started a campaign that Photoshopped Shrek onto teachers' faces."

Silence, as if all the world were a show that liked to take several beats.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” asked Nancy finally.

“You do,” you said. “You don’t think I can see you smiling?” There was something in her face that told you that hatred for you was not all there was to it. Something about the uplifted motion at the left end of her lips. Somi was barely hiding it with the giggles she was making.

“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”

“Oooh, nice one for a first swear word.” You threw the pencil away and folded your hands together. Leaned forward, too, because if they were showing off their cleavages like that, you might as well do the same. “Got anything else for me?”

You promised you weren’t always this petty. These weekly meetings with the presidents just tired you out. It wasn’t your fault you were like this. It could all be traced back to your parents’ nth mistake: sending you off to this shithole of a school. For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t even where you envisioned yourself to be five years ago, when your teachers made you draw a visionary of yourself on white bond paper. Far from it, if you looked past your shitty skills at sketching.

“Detention, maybe,” Somi said helpfully after swallowing the last pieces of her laughs. “And a suspension.”

“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, not you, too.”

“Yep. Real scary stuff, huh?” She smiled, raising her hands in claws before firing you a wink. Your breath shortened just for a while. Only just. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to go through all that if you behave.”

You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”

But there was your heart slipping into a knot as you said it. Joke-filled lines you exchanged with the girls were difficult not to stay upon when your hormonal brain kept each one dirty.

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. Then, they smiled. That was a rare one from Nancy. Somi, however, boasted her shining simper as she took a few steps forward to pat you on the shoulder.

"You're alright, newbie," was all she said. "You're alright."

A few months—

(Well, you could say it took fewer than that. Within a timespan of what seemed like seconds, Somi had you wrapped around the long hem of her ballroom gown. But she didn’t drag you around for long; she treated you like a fellow royal, helping you out with math though she had little time and greeting you in the hallways and therefore drawing looks, because why was the Jeon Somi talking to some random new kid? But attention was what came with being Somi and slash or being part of her life. It’s time you got used to it.)

—and a lot of bickering later—

(“You are the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met,” said Somi, fingers massaging her temple. “Who in goddess’ name doesn’t know dodos are extinct?”

You flipped the teacher’s copy shut. “Normal people,” was your answer to her, as you brooded over social studies homework at the library.

“Shhhh!” the librarian, with her stereotypical glasses and graying hair, hissed at you from her desk. After a hateful glare, she was returning to her telenovela, which you argued was louder than your hushed conversation with your new friend.

Friend? What could you call this thing you had with Somi? She liked you, but that didn’t mean she was your friend or you were hers. You could like a modern abstract painting at the gallery and still not buy it. Maybe that was how she looked at you.

“The dodo is dead-o,” Somi said seriously. She looked at you with an equally resolute glare.

“The dodo is dead-o,” you repeated. You could remember that.

“You’re so lying, did they never teach you that at your old school? Like at all?”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t spend time thinking if a stupid bird is alive or not.”

“See?” She raised her voice so that the poor juniors in the cluster behind you had to hear. “This, my friends, is what’s wrong in our society! Eighteen-year-olds in this prominent day and age are all like ‘I dunno what a dodo is!’!”

“For fuck’s sake, they’re all dead!” you yelled before the librarian could scold you again. “They won’t fucking care!”)

—things began to change.

She did say you were alright. You still had discourse over birds but in her eyes, you convinced yourself eventually you were alright.

It wasn’t the case for Nancy. That smile she made back in that classroom apparently meant nothing. You were amusing to her, but that’s everything to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were entertaining in a way a clown at a children’s party was: no one particularly cared about it days after.

“He’s tagging along?” she said. She looked you up and down suspiciously, as a guard would at an airport, then turned to Somi. “Somi, I thought we agreed on no boys on trips.”

And it—

… hurt you?

Not only that made you feel out of place, but the visible fact that both girls were dressed like they were about to go to a gala. They were both in skirts, wearing layers that vested upon expensive blouses and coats that even from miles away would look good. You, of course, were excluded in your simple tee and shorts. It was as if you didn’t even try to look presentable.

“Consider me one of the girls,” you said. You hoped that quick reply was witty enough, because if not, you were doomed. You already had a bad enough poor position to deal with. See? You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want it.

And it wasn’t like going to the mall with them was something you wanted either. Somi texted you one day, having found your number through means that were probably illegal but were given a blind eye because oh look she’s Jeon Somi, and asked, hey, wanna come to the mall w me?

Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones.

You didn’t know Nancy was coming along, but you should have known that when the two girls were always together. Hoping that she would come along was what you did, and perhaps one of the reasons why you wanted to go (wait, you wanted to go? But didn’t you— never mind). Now that she had expressed clear distaste for your presence, you felt like an outcast again.

You didn’t want to go back to those days.

Somi nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least someone was happy to have you around. She was the first one to warm up to you, and you could say that you were friends with her now. Something told you she was okay with that. “Yeah, Nance! I promise he’s gonna be good, like super duper good. Just think that he’s Mina.”

“Don’t call me that. Oh, and remember what we did to Mina?”

Everybody knew Kang Mina although she graduated a long time ago. She was a loner at first, but pretty. She didn’t know that she was beautiful, of course, not until she became friends with Somi and Nancy and suddenly—

“Oh no,” you said. You put up your hands. “No, no, no, no, no. You are not—”

“Giving you a makeover?” Nancy smirked, that being the first time of the day that she gave signs of a living smile. “Yeah, we are.”

The salon was right up ahead after the pavilion. You took a single look at it and saw its pink, glamoring state along with the hairdos it advertised, and knew that you were wholly, indefinitely, and irreparably fucked.

“God, what’re you gonna do to me?” you groaned as you were shoved into a disgustingly pink seat, accompanied by strange looks from strangers whose strangeness in their colored hairs and phrases shouldn’t give them any right to look at you like that. Masculinity this, masculinity that—but come on. It was… what year was it again?

“Hey, Jessa!” Somi called out loudly. Jessa was a plump, sweet woman with bayonetta glasses that made her slits for eyes look even smaller. “Make him look like everything.”

“Yeah!” Nancy actually looked enthusiastic. You tried not to curl up into a snail-like position when she brushed her fingers through your hair. “Like a dreamboat, that kind.”

Jessa smiled. “You two are always in some sort of BS, aren’t you?” Fondness graced her elderly tone. It was clear the two girls were frequent visitors.

She swiftly curled the chair into the vanity table’s direction. Your reflection in the star-studded mirror made you wince. You had cysts in all the inconvenient places, a bread crumb at the side of your mouth from the breakfast you had at that niche cafe, everything. Even Jessa looked like royalty compared to you. What more next to Somi and Nancy, whose skirted long legs towered over you and reminded you that they always held the better deck, the better position?

“Call us the Bullshitter Bitches, then!” Somi began to tap dance on her heels. It was her hidden talent. Well, it wasn’t really hard to tap dance when she had those long legs. “‘We’re the Bullshitter Bitches / We shit on snitch—”

“Somi, that’s disgusting,” Nancy snapped sourly. She clicked a haircut apron around your neck. Great. Now you looked like a goddamned infant who’s growing up with a princess complex.

“Sorry.”

“Just so you know,” you said, as Jessa snipped away at your head, “I’m not paying for this. I don’t need a makeover.”

“‘Course you aren’t. It’s all on the house.”

Brushes swished on your face, hiding the beginning foundations of new hormonal pimples and blackheads. They hid away your imperfections with just one slide. You never saw them as such, not until you got into senior high and therefore compared yourself to the bigger guys, the cooler guys. The ones whose sweat wrung from their hair but still looked attractive enough to get the girls. Maybe this was what you needed. You were gonna have to think twice about the whole operation.

“Makeup?” you asked warily. Not that you were against it. but you never really tried it on before.

Somi’s hand made an L-shaped gesture and branded itself in front of her forehead. “Boo, come on, it’s the big year of”—redacted, with an exclamation at the end. Nobody needed to know when this happened. The time will come when everything will reveal itself. She painted powder that almost matched the shade of your skin and hued it on your cheeks and neck. “Who said guys can’t wear makeup?”

“Makeup is for everybody,” chirped Jessa in agreement. “And that’s right, sweetie, you don’t need a makeover. Just a touch up. And everyone gets them, even handsome guys like you.”

Nobody had ever called you handsome. The last time it ever happened was when your mother buttoned your polo for preschool. It’s flattery, you knew, but your chest still felt as if it were knotted.

“Ain’t that right,” Nancy stooped to your level and brushed your nose with the tip of her finger—her soft smile was gripping, “new boy.”

Another one, and a roundness at the edge(?) of your throat you couldn’t swallow. Your Adam’s apple bobbed yet it was useless at downing it.

You had to look away. Did she just agree that you were good-looking? You knew Somi thought that, too, but this was Nancy. Nancy McDonie, the girl who didn’t care for you much and didn’t want you here.

She still didn’t like you. But maybe that would change.

(Spoiler alert: it did. That’s how the story went.)

You wondered how rich they actually were to pay Jessa to be so committed to making you look your best. Your hair was purple for a few minutes (“Fuck no!” you shouted) and was easily returned to the black with a quick dye. Then she gelled it in so many directions that you’d think your blunt mane was a car being controlled by an overexcited student driver. That was already thousands of won by itself. But it went on without stopping, and Somi and Nancy still weren’t satisfied.

“I’m telling you, Somi,” said the brunette girl, twirling your chair to the mirror again, “he looks good with that slicked back do!”

“Be serious with me.” Somi blew-dried your hair and ran her hand along your whiffed locks. “Grody as hell. Doesn’t he look like 90s’ Brendan Fraser?”

“He does,” Jessa said. She returned with tools that looked so unfamiliar to you that they might as well be surgeon’s supplies. Fuck, were they gonna take out your liver after all that trouble?

“Ha! See?”

“He has some nice eyebrows. Just needs a little trimming and he’s good to go.”

“Thank god,” you said. They all looked at you as if surprised to remember you weren’t a doll to practice hairstyling on. Your scalp already ached royally. “I need to get out of here.”

Nancy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, new boy. You’re ours for today.”

You gulped. God, okay. You were good with that.

A light edged metal ran along the ends of your brows. You were afraid they were going to make you look like Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body, but it actually turned out alright.

After all the ruckus, you were there, staring at your reflection.You could pass for a guy richer than you actually were, cooler than you actually were. Your eyebrows were cleanly trimmed, in a steady and one-way direction, and your hair was cut yet splayed in a way that made you actually look flattering. Then you had your cheeks to look at, which were clear of any of your open pores and pimples. You looked like what they told you would: everything.

“I… I’m one of the girls now,” you said out of the blue. It was like a moment of truth for you.

“Yes you are,” Somi said proudly. “Now can we go get some ice cream?”

Nancy glanced at the clothing shop a few blocks down the tiled path and shook her head. Nope. Not a chance in any galaxy.

It was also later on, when you saw yourself in clothes from brands you never dreamed of buying, you knew that this thing you had with the presidents would go on forever, an eternity that would last long after—

Senior year, your golden age.

"Hey, hotshot," a clear voice says into your ear. She's on the phone with you yet her voice is loud enough for it to be easily assumed that she's physically present. "Up to see me after class?"

That's Somi, by the way. Yep, the leader of the student body who sanctioned you years ago. She's a real life Korean-Canadian doll. She'd be the stereotypical one, the face and brand—she's tall and slender, owning the hallways like she was the first step to ever be made in them. Blonde, too. You've met her years before and not once have you seen her natural color replace her dyed yellow.

The thing about her is that she's always just that shameless and energetic. She has one default personality and that is extroverted.

She's also naturally flirtatious, and you know it doesn't mean anything else when she calls you derogatory names in sweet tones but you remain attached to her. We’ll just keep it at that.

"Aren't we meeting in social studies?" you chuckle. This girl can't get enough of being around people. Around you, to be more specific. But that's what friends do.

"Not enough, obvi.”

“Right.”

“Is Nancy coming, too?"

"I think so."

"Darn it. I was hoping to…."

You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"

"Nothing. I said we're meeting up."

Let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't say yes," you inform her, just in case she forgot.

"And I didn't say that what you think about it matters, butthead. You know you want to see me. Tata!"

And it ends off with that. Click.

Your smile is wide. That's Somi for you: a brat at heart, always getting what she wants one way or another, with a vocabulary that matches that of a spoiled heiress. Maybe she is one? You don't know but the branded clothes she often wears to school are getting a little suspicious. Among other things.

The locker space is packed with students, both juniors and seniors, male and female. They see you and start whispering among themselves. Some even make way. That wouldn't have been possible in your first year, but then Somi and Nancy happened. They made you the way you were. They made you a centerpiece. Do you like it? Admittedly, it strokes your ego well on some days.

Where's your locker key again? There it is. Click it into the padlock and swing the door open. Notes and trinkets from your two best friends are stuck to its walls. They said it was "for motivation." You let them believe that because it's true. Seeing Somi's wild happy calligraphy on the sticky note “Yep :) totally got it - Jeon <3”, compared to Nancy's more contained handwriting “Let’s get going!!!” always brightens your day.

Collect your social studies book as well as the mathematics one for the next period. Shut it, and a figure suddenly appears next to you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"

Oh yeah, that's how the scene opens to introduce the present Nancy McDonie. She's the brunette and calmer duplicate of Somi, but with an equally amazing body—

You won't go there.

She has one arm pinned to the neighboring locker door and a small smile. "Language, handsome," she chides, patting your shoulder. "It's just me."

Oh, and the less sarcastic counterpart as well. Nancy calls you sweet pet names and means them.

She’s grown fonder of you over the years. Nancy hates hard, but when she loves, she loves just as much. You’ve become so much better as a person and a newfound friend that she’s got no other choice but to keep you under her wing.

So, it could be argued that she loves you.

Never the same way you do, like you started to right from the very beginning, when unfamiliarity stepped between you and kept your hearts away from each other.

"Hey there," you say, clutching your chest. It’s just Nancy, your other half. You've been friends with her a little after your makeover. Quite a long time, if you do say so yourself; it seems to have happened so long ago. Long enough to have you become one of the girls.

It's not derogatory, like other boys would think. Being friends with the girls is more fun than hanging out with the vulgar rebels from your old school. For what it's worth, being one of Somi's and Nancy's is a huge compliment. Not everybody could say they were friends with the popular kids.

Gulp. It’s so hard to act normal in front of her when she’s naturally charming, and her uniform’s made to hug every bit of her curves, including her exceptional ass. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re strongly and sexually attracted to her a long time ago, but it still proves to be a challenge not to stare.

Besides, she trusts you. You’re her best friend. If you make a move on her, everybody would know and ruin your life for it, even if you’re fairly popular yourself. You’d be surprised by how quick people turn against others.

You’re not going to lie: she’s gorgeous, and the last thing that would be able to scare you is her beautiful face, but she can’t just show up like that out of the blue. That little pet name gets your gears going though. Your spirits are already afloat.

"Hey." She pats you on the head and peeks at the schedule taped to your locker. "Oh, you got social studies, too?"

"Y-you got that right."

"With Somi?"

"Yeah, sure. So?"

Nancy, sweet as a lollipop, shakes her head cheerfully. "Nothing," she says. "I guess I'll see you there."

"See ya there."

Offer her a two-finger salute and walk as quickly as you could although you're leaving with her. It's strange how she has your heart all bunched up when she shows up. She's pretty, yeah, but there's a certain aura about her calm demeanor that captures your stomach and keeps it tight. You hope no one gets you wrong—you like Somi, too, but Nancy has you wrapped around her little finger. She could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d rush to buy out parachute stores.

And you’re staring at her as you switch classrooms. Your eyes are locked to her smile, her every move, her charm. Nancy was the last person you thought you’d ever be in love with—after all, she was the one who gave you sanction after sanction whenever you showed up at her classroom. Somi’s the one who went gentle with you, right?

But things happen. Plus, in a way, she’s changed you for the better.

Your style wasn’t the only thing they made over. They helped you with your studies, your personal problems, and everything they could. Your grades went up, much to the surprise of your teachers, and you stopped your troublemaking. That was also to the surprise of your educators, but also relief. You couldn’t be more grateful. It was comforting to find new friends in a place so new. And from the girls you least expected, too.

Nancy looks at you twice, then laughs. “Why are you looking at me like you’re in love with me or something?” she says, slapping the back of your head.

Well, what do you know? She’s not far off. You could say that you’re in love.

Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.

“Maybe I am.”

“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath.

She wouldn’t have dared say that in a nicer tone years ago.

The roll of her gorgeous eyes has you thinking of a scenario where it’s caused by something other than your flirtatious remarks. It would start with a flirtatious remark, then evolve into something more. Something beyond that.

Abstain from that thought. Instead, you gasp as if you belonged to the theater club with Jiwoo. “Did you just call me a slut?” you ask her. Raise your voice higher. You really hang out with Somi too much. “Everyone! Nancy McDonie just slutshamed me! I repeat, president Nancy McDonie just slut—”

A rough shove to your shoulder that neither you or Nancy expected blocks your words before they create controversy. Blonde fills your eyes as its Rapunzel owner says, “Get out of my way, creep.”

It’s such a low snarl that it alarms you. What made you a creep? Do you have to fight?

When you look up, you see that it’s no other girl than Somi. Despite what she said, she wears a cheeky, large smile. Return the grin and make it as Somi-like as possible; right, how could you forget the thing you and she have going on?

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” you say, crossing your arms in faux annoyance. Yeah, you really should have tried out for that play. You could make it big as an actor.

“Oh yeah?” Somi looks you up and down. Is that bite on her lip also part of the act? “Why should I? I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either. Is it ‘bottle blonde’?”

“Shut the fuck up. 2008 called and said they wanted their My Chemical Romance hairdo back.”

Nancy covers her face embarrassedly. She’s too proud to join the joke you and Somi have, so she’s left having to deal with the unnecessary attention your fake fights warrant. It happens almost twice every other day and people still look on to find out what’s happening. It’s what amuses you and her blonde counterpart. She and Somi are alike in many ways, all except the latter’s thirst for childish fun.

“Madams. Sir,” the teacher says. She’s miss Kim Sejeong, your social studies teacher whom you swear has been here before you were even born. The university students and graduates who’ve found their tune visit often and talk about her fondly, yet despite their ages ranging, she looks like she isn’t more than twenty-three years old. Her gaze is stern yet amused. “Do you plan on getting in? The air-conditioner’s expensive.”

While Nancy blushes in humiliation, the class erupts into giggles, and you and Somi can’t help but do the same. Each repetition of your rivalry routine is funnier than the previous one. It might be corny, especially to the other students who despise you for no reason, but it keeps your friendship solid. And what’s a better friendship than one with a few inside jokes? A strange routine?

It’s an unspoken and universal law in every classroom that even if there isn’t any official seating arrangement as to who’s sitting next to who, you still choose the ones you first sat at the beginning of the year. You’re a proud follower of that rule, and that’s why you’ve been sitting here in the front of the class with Somi and Nancy for ages. You have a secret stenciled artwork under this specific chair with an equation of your trio’s initials. It would mark long after you’ve graduated and went to pass on that you three were once best friends, and nothing could change that.

Somi leans against your arm before turning her head to glare at you. “‘Bottle Blonde,’ huh?” she says spitefully.

“Not as bad as ‘My Chemical Romance,’” you reply. That one stung a little. Does your hair really need a cut?

“Fuck you. I don’t fucking care what you say, I’ll be a blondie as much as I want.”

“And I suppose I’m emo now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Her brows curl together at the sight of Nancy looking sour in the seat to your left. “You aight, Nancy?”

The girl nods. There’s red coloring her cheeks and ears. Kind of cute, actually. “Still alive,” she says, “after the shit you pulled there. Surprisingly.”

You and Somi bump fists. This is how it is with her. Opposed to you and Nancy acting like best friends just two steps away from being a couple, you’re more of a teasing older friend to her. You act like brother and sister, though your bond is much deeper than that. There’s something lingering in the air between you, and Somi seems to have caught it. What could it be?

You don’t have to think about that for now, not when your arms are around your two best friends in the world and now keenly listening to Kim Sejeong. That wouldn’t have been possible in your first year of high school, when things were completely different.

But, like you said, things happen. Things change. It’s just how they work, and it’s about time you get used to it being like that. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with your two friends, though.

Sejeong waits for the three of you to get settled, then smiles welcomingly. “Now that we all have ourselves safely in our seats,” a stress there as she looks at you pointedly, “I suppose we should get on with your missed activities.”

Wince. You’re crossing your fingers, praying and begging that one particular girl doesn’t—

“What about the declamation?” Nancy asks innocently. “I thought it was due a month ago.”

A collective groan. You’ve gathered the class before to develop a plan to stall the feared exercise. Popularity, you believe, ought to be used correctly and for the common good. Keeping that declamation away is for the benefit of all. Not only is it an individual performance, but it makes up forty percent of your grade. It takes a hell of an effort to do it instantly.

No effort, so it seems, to Nancy McDonie. She’s the gooder girl of the duo, the perfect angel in all the right ways. She’s still right for this one—a lot of you just don’t like that truth.

“I thought we all agreed—”

“Somi!” you cut in, but she goes on shamelessly.

Somi stands up and looks at the class with genuine disappointment in her eyes. “—not to remind miss Kim about it. My god, you guys are, like, absolutely two-faced.”

It doesn’t take a while for the realization to set in with your teacher. Her stare is, as always, something that cuts straight to the soul. It sheds your dignity and leaves you bare for the eagle to eat of you. To be clear, there’s a reason why she was one of the teachers you never dared mess with. She was quiet but stern—a deadly combination.

"Oh. You kids are too smart for me, huh?" Sejeong laughs sarcastically. Her smile strips you of any attempt to wash her scolding off with a laugh. Can’t resort to that. Again, Kim Sejeong isn’t one to mess with. “That was more disappointing than anything the other classes have done. Do you think that just because you’re popular you can suddenly hold it against me?”

She uses the same lines you’ve heard back in your troublemaker days. Each word untaps a memory.

You all stay silent. Somi doesn’t for long, when she’s called up to go first with the declamation since “you thought of the plan, miss Jeon,” according to Sejeong.

“But, but, but it wasn’t even—” the girl protests. Her pupils are wide with rage. She’s so used to saying anything and getting away with it. She can’t believe it won’t work out like that for her today.

“Now.”

She groans dramatically, and rises with slumped shoulders so odd to be seen on such a duchess-like, pampered girl like her. After all, she’s the stereotypical rich, blonde teen with impeccable fashion and manners that range from the sweetest to the meanest. Right now, she’s veering in the middle of the scale as she gets to the front center.

You mouth her a deserved, and she says I’m sooo gonna punch you in the balls later.

“Now, miss Jeon,” says Sejeong, arms furled in front of her chest. Yep, she isn’t backing down. “What is your solution to poverty here in this country?”

Nancy raises her hand. “May I go first instead?” she offers in hopes to save her friend.

“You may not. Miss Jeon, please be brief. Start.”

Somi pouts, but faces the class with steady eyes. She’s ready for this. Mostly. Wringing out a pink bubble gum from her pink lips with pink-polished nails, she begins.

“So, you know how there are a lot of poor people. A lot. I know because I see a whole bunch outside the clubhouse and middle classers are always like, ‘Oh nooo, don’t give money to them, they’re gonna use it for drugs!’. And I’m just there going, ‘Gag me with a friggin’ spoon, Becky. Where the hell can you find drugs for a dime? Where?’.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then nods smugly. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

Nancy brings her palm to her face. You’re giggling in your seat, muffling it with a few fingers. Sejeong’s eyes are wide and appalled.

“Okay,” the confident Somi continues, “for example, there’re a lot of poor people somewhere. Let’s say fifty. Oh, maybe ninety! That's super many, right?”

You and your classmates look at each other. You’re not certain where she’s going with this.

“You can’t have too many people at the same place, like that time I had all of my geometrics class for my nineteenth and it was a total flop. You have to keep them fed, y’know. So I had to walk my pretty self to the bakers which is like ten minutes away then ask them for more chocolate cake. My daddy was super mad at me for maxing out his credit card, but by the end of the day, we had more cake! More cake equals less hunger equals more dessert equals less poor people.”

The jocks at the back nod in agreement, cheering her on. She acknowledges their reassurances with a flirty wave.

"So, if the government just maxed out their credit cards and let poor people eat cake,” she says, with real conviction for someone who’s dragging her chewed gum out of her mouth coyly, “I believe with all my heart that there will be no poverty in America. Who’s with me?”

The modern Marie Antoinette. You raise your hand proudly. Try to get Nancy to raise hers as well but she’s red in the face again.

“And to conclude,” Somi adds finally, “it should be everyone’s knowledge that there's no law in this beautiful country that says ‘Republic Act Anti-Poor People and Rich People Eating Cake Together Bunch of Numbers.’ I offer dessert for all to help eradicate poor people– I mean, poverty, led by our government and me, Jeon Somi. That will be all, thank you.”

The whole class gets up on their feet and applauds her. Like the princess she is, your blonde friend waves and bows, even blowing kisses. Meanwhile, Sejeong contemplates retirement and realizes she’s actually considering it, salary and all.

"You killed it, Somi. You fucking killed it."

That's what you say to your friend after leaving the classroom with her and Nancy. You mean it—you've never had a belly laugh that rocked your body that hard before. She deserved an A instead of that disappointing C-.

Sejeong’s sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Somi’s speech was impactful, it seems. So impactful that it has her fingers jotting down a lengthy text message to… the principal? What’s that for? The speech was great!

Your classmates have filed out to go to computer shops or study. They tell Somi she did great with her declamation, which you’re pretty sure is intended to humiliate her, but Jeon Somi only ever thinks of anything said to her as a compliment. That’s why she blows them kisses and flirtatiously cocks her brows. Yep, that’s her. Nancy’s a different story—always quiet and reserved, but daring enough to hold Somi back before she causes more chaos. But the lid of Pandora’s box has already been lifted.

You three are already far behind your classmates when they go out, but you don’t mind. You like it when it’s just you. No computer shop or mall could compare to being in the hallways with your best friends, trading jokes and stories.

"Killed what? Poverty?" Nancy asks, still in a dilemma over the drama in the social studies classroom. "Somi, you really have to start minding your words."

Somi blows a satiric raspberry. She raises her hands in dismissal as she walks faster then turns around anyway to face her. "Blah blah, who cares? It was an awesome declamation."

Chuckle. "I feel like that's up for debate," you say. "Did you see miss Kim's face?"

It was a look of judgment and disappointment. While everyone cheered and whistled for the other half of the McDonie-Jeon duo, your teacher had a look on her face that could be likened to the one you make after smelling something bad. Laughs were passed around the classroom but her eyebrows and squinted eyes etched an expression of real concern.

"What if someone recorded that?" Nancy says. She has a hand on her shoulder to try and make her see the darker but truthful side. "You could ruin your chances of getting to a good college forever."

In these four walls of the corridor, your heart twists. Right—you only have a few months until you’re done with senior year. That means having to choose a course and college to go to. You didn’t think time would pass by that fast. By then, would you still be friends with Somi and Nancy?

You hope so. You look at their pretty faces and their hands in yours and wish high school would just last forever. You’d choose them over your standing, your popularity, everything. Sure, being friends with them brings inescapable attention, but you’d be fine without it if it means you could still be with them.

You sit down at the bottom step of the staircase. They follow, too. Open your textbook to skim through it, hoping that your stock knowledge for science would suffice.

“Ugh, college schmollege,” Somi says, crossing her legs and throwing her head back. When her pretty face comes back to view it’s mocking your other friend already. "Have you seen student debt? College just makes people poor. How’ll that help with poverty?”

You wonder how Jeon Somi could sound so knowledgeable yet so insensitive at the same time. It’s a feat that couldn’t be done by others. It’s like it’s her trademark: to be the wealthy girl who always says the wrong and right things that therefore blends into one, confusing mixture. Should you be offended? Happy? Anything?

Nancy leans on your shoulder with a sigh that blows the runaway strands on her face back with their kind. Sometimes Somi could be too much for her. It’s like she trades places with you and realizes how a beautiful girl could be a handful. That’s why you two are particularly close: you understand each other. You’re close with Somi, too, but you just have a deeper bond with the calmer girl. You still don’t know how it happened when she hated you at the start for filling her schedule because of your troubles. Some things just change as time goes on.

“You just can’t be fixed, Somi,” you tell her. “You’re always going to be insane.”

You know you’re right. She knows it, too. It would take years and years of maturity for Somi to grow out of her flirtatious personality. She’d be the girl in college whose laughable questions somehow also awaken strange inquiries of your own. She’s a little weird, to be honest, but she’s pretty and confident. Smart, too—she just has her own way of showing it.

“I’m a simple gal, what can I say?” She stops before she could go on, as if she’s just caught a memory in the slip of her hands. “Oh, and I forgot to do something.”

“And that is?”

Somi lifts a fist and heavily plows it into your crotch. You yowl in pain as opposed to her grin that could reach the ends of the earth. Where did she learn that? That hurt like hell!

Nancy’s jaw drops to the floor. “Somi!” she says, genuinely shocked.

“What the fuck was that for!” you screech in the midst of your laughs, clutching your core and glaring at the convict of the crime which is assaulting your balls.

The fact that the criminal’s too pretty is an unfair advantage. “I did say I was gonna punch your balls earlier.”

“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have had to do it if McDonie here wasn’t a grody teacher’s pet.”

Nancy blushes. She's forgotten she's involved in the mess, too. “I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice.

“I bet you are.” Somi shoves her shoulder playfully. “Cause and effect, Nance. C’mon, if you didn’t want to be a good girl so bad, I wouldn’t have declaimed or anything. Not that it wasn’t amazing.”

What a ridiculous conversation to have. You place your arms around both girls and pull them close. “Alright,” you declare, still wincing, “fuck, you’re both at fault. Nancy made a butterfly effect that ended up getting my balls aching. I’m the poor girls’ guy that got pulled into everything. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Somi floats her fingers on her cheek, thinking a little. It’s like a bulb lit above her head when her eyes suddenly brighten. You hope that it’s a good idea this time because when she makes that look, it isn’t for any good at all.

“Nancy and I will discuss this, if you don’t mind,” she says, rising to her feet and tugging Nancy up, too.

“Me?”

“Yep!”

She pauses. “Jeon Somi,” the latter sighs halfheartedly, “what are you planning now?”

Yeah, what is she planning? You have no idea and honestly, it scares you. Somi can be unpredictable with her quick wit and schemes, but with Nancy’s added ideas? Whatever she’s dreaming up, it can’t be anything you’d expect.

“The perfect apology. Meet us at my house after school. See you later, cutie.”

Your classes are filled with sprites of anxiety that are unusual when compared to your daily jokes and butt-ins. Your head’s filled with plenty of questions, and you try to answer them as you go about the rest of the school day:

First of all, why did the apology have to take place at Somi’s house?

Maybe they’ll buy a cake for you from the bakery she cited in her speech. She has plenty of money to go around so a cake might actually be possible. If it weren’t a cake, maybe an apology combined with balloons and confetti that you’d laugh about years from now. All these possibilities you sift through and yet they don’t seem to be what’s in store for you.

Second, why did the planning that had to occur without you?

They might be planning a big surprise. Perhaps that’s it. But then—

Why such a big surprise for an apology that could’ve been done simply?

That’s where your mind goes blank. You don’t know. You have no idea, not even the tiniest bit. You’ve been friends with Nancy and Somi for years but they still have that mystery around them. You know everything about them, from their interests to what makes the three of you click, but never what they plan to do. That always remains shrouded.

So, when Nancy texts your group chat the plan’s done!!! ♥ ️ be ready & meet us where youre supposed to :), you move like a snail. You take your time playing and talking to other students, buying food from the cafeteria, everything. When you get on the bus to commute from your school to Somi’s home, you’re wrecked by hesitation. All this anxiety and nervousness for a damned apology.

Maybe it’s because you’ve never had friends like them before, especially that pretty.

You would never intend to act on your feelings for them if they don’t want you to, even if you’re hormonal as fuck, but what if that’s what they’re planning? To have an intimate night with them, just like in the movies?

Or, hopefully, finally let you have something deeper: a love that fits three?

Nope, two wishes that’ll never come true, whatever star you make them upon.

Drag your heavy feet down the road. Sounds like Somi’s rich-ass neighbors are partying again. Take your precious time leering at them, noticing the manner they hold their wine glasses and the music only being stolen off Spotify’s Most Popular Songs playlist. It’s all a headache, honestly. You’ve never connected well with rich people, not until you met the girls. That’s where it all starts and ends, right? Them: Somi and Nancy, the yin and yang?

“You’re here!” shouts Somi gleefully, throwing her arms around you. She’s dressed in this tiny shirt that looks cute and simple but you’re sure costs more than a few thousand won. It also shouldn’t be worth that much when it’s too little for her anyway. “Why did you take so long?”

Nancy goes in for the kill. She comes in with only a camisole and the undershorts of her uniform plaid skirt, and it hugs right where it maims and shoots you. No, keep your mind holy. She’s your best friend. Also your crush but that doesn't matter here. “Bet he was scared to come.”

“Was not,” you reply too quickly. Tighten your jaw. “I—I got held up by traffic.”

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Yes, but—” Pause. You realize you don’t have a proper justification. “Just get to it, will you? The apology?”

“‘Kay ‘kay,” says Somi, wrapping an arm around your waist, literally keeping you at arm’s length just in case you try to scamper away, “the apology is a girls and boy’s night. Here. Just to get away from everything. We all need it.”

“Who’s ordering the soju?”

“Soju?” Nancy asks indignantly, eyes all round and wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. You and Somi are like that to her: flashing lights, crashing into an unsuspecting her with a brightness a notch too much. No apologies when you don’t plan to change. This is what makes you young.

“What’re you, a nun? We’re adults, Nance!” Somi says. Her thumbs tap away at her phone screen, the familiar pink lights flashing back at her indicating she’s already ordering. “It’s on me.”

Of course. Who other than Jeon Somi? Of course, you can’t let that moment slip away without a snarky remark from your end.

“Must be nice having access to your billionaire dad’s bank account.”

Somi twirls her fingers in her hair and squints her eyes at you spitefully. “I’m using my mom’s, poophead.”

“Oh wow,” you reply, your statement blank of any emotion.

“Guys,” cuts in Nancy. Her voice is strained. She feels like a mother trying to contain two kids who just know how to push her buttons. “We can’t have soju delivery. Or beer. Or whatever alcoholic drinks there are. We can get in trouble. Think about our grades. The suspensions!”

Ah, sweet Nancy, always the one to pull you back down to sense. But when has that ever worked?

“Alright.” Somi clicks her device shut and throws it on the sofa space you’ve left empty beside her. “Fine.”

Wait—what?

Her best friend twists her head in shock. “Really?”

Nancy simply can’t believe that this girl, whose whole trademark is being a spoiled brat, actually follows sensible orders. You're surprised yourself; you can’t believe it more than she does. Is it finally time for Somi to perform her arc of being the mature, behaved girl she simply isn’t?

“Yep. You won.” Somi rises and waltzes her way to the exit of her mansion. “I’m just gonna buy some myself from the convenience store.”

“Somi!”

“Hey, you only said no delivery! You didn’t say I can’t buy some face-to-face!”

“Well, now I’m making it official. No—”

“See you later, alligators!”

The door slams shut.

Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat.

She lets herself fall to the floor in defeat. The massaging of her fingers on the sides of her head doesn’t do enough to cast away the stress. How in the world is she going to control Somi? She knows the two of you are practically twins, the same in every way when planning schemes to make her freak out. She has to play babysitter again. How many nights has it been since the start of her unpaid duty?

On your end, you're thinking. You’ve been friends with her for longer than you think yet you don’t know how to say the right thing in situations like these. Maybe with Somi it would have been easier to say the comforting words. After all, she’s the most extroverted and blunt person you know. But with Nancy, it’s different. Nancy McDonie is never blue. At least, not to the point where she’s on the floor and moping.

It’s always different between the two of them and you still remain unable to pick who you love more.

It takes a while to get the words out, but better late than never. God, you’re such a bad friend. Do you even deserve her? “It’s fine, Nancy,” you say, sitting down beside her. You rub her knee. “Like she said, we’re adults.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out another groan that twists as it reaches your eardrums. “It’s just so scary.”

“Tell me.”

“What if someone posted photos of us drinking? You know the school handbook, right? All that talk about maintaining a good and clean self inside and outside the school. If someone finds out—”

"Yeah? Well, nobody will."

"Yeah, but there's always the possibility…"

You sometimes pray that Nancy's allowed a day without worry, that she doesn't stress over things for once. She's precious—you don't want her to feel bad about anything. This strange protectiveness always takes you when you're with her.

“Hey.” You massage her shoulder. She whines, and it’s so cute hearing her unusual sulking that you just want to wrap a blanket around her and kiss her on the forehead. Again, urges. Simply urges. Don’t mind those. “There’s only three of us here. As long as we don’t post pics online or boast about it, we’re safe. So don’t worry about it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not when you’re with a dreamboat like me.”

You just humiliated yourself with that. Hell, you probably gave everyone who knows and will know this story of yours secondhand embarrassment. It’s worth it all, however, when Nancy smiles. And oh, could you get lost in it. Her eyes curl up at the corners and emit all this gorgeous, positive brightness that you think everyone should get a chance to see. She’s so serious and reserved in school that a smile from her is closer to impossible than thunder coming before lightning.

“God, you’re such a gigantic ass sometimes,” she mutters, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”

“Keep your mouth shut.” She pushes you, joining you in your laughs, then opens her arms invitingly anyway. “Oh, forget it. Come here, you.”

You can’t even pretend to not want a hug when it’s all you’ve ever fantasized about: being in the warm, filled embrace of Nancy McDonie. You’ve fantasized about things that extend deeper than that, but you could settle for this. There’s Nancy burying her head in your neck and her hold being a little too tight for it to be a casual touch between friends. You’re delusional, but who wouldn’t be when you had a best friend this pretty? This… curvaceous?

God, you don’t know how to say that you like this girl without sounding like another one of the weirdos who stalk her at school. Are you just like them? No, you can’t be. You’ve liked Nancy and known her more than they could. It’s what you tell yourself to keep your sanity.

“You know,” she says, still rocking the two of you side to side, “they did say not to trust first impressions. ‘You better take advice. Never trust first impressions.’”

“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?”

“Did he?” She looks up curiously.

“Never mind,” you say, waving it off. You pull away. Lean against the curve of Somi’s sofa so that your ass doesn’t slide like a mop on her floor. "What’s with first impressions? What was your first impression of me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the first reason…” Nancy hugs her knees and looks at you pointedly. “Not a lot of people would love to know that they were a real fucking pain in the ass.”

You burst out laughing. There’s chances as slim as a ballerina that Nancy curses, but when she does, she sounds hilarious. She doesn’t even say them a certain way; it’s just the instance by itself of her daring to use words deemed as bad that gets your tears of laughter flowing.

To add to that, there’s that matter-of-fact statement she made that’s as honest as Somi’s everyday talk that makes you think they switched souls for a second. You laugh harder with that in mind. The next thing you know, you’re curled up on the floor busting out cackles that reach pitches you can’t even shout in.

“Seriously!” she says. She’s laughing as well as she shakes her head in disbelief. “I was always trying to keep the seniors in place, you know, being president and everything. And then I found out this new kid just spammed middle finger emojis to sir Fernandez in the Zoom chat after he made him answer a question. And I was like, ‘Hooo boy.’”

“Well, he shouldn’t have called on me while I was playing a game!”

“You’re so immature, he’s a teacher and you’re in class! He’s supposed to do that!” Nancy squeals, a hand on her mouth to muffle her rambunctious cackles.

“Fine, fair point.” You somehow manage to make a successful attempt to halt your laughs. “And then what happened?”

There's a lot of secret lore between you and her. You want to uncover all of them, especially knowing that Somi's gonna tease you to hell about if she heard. Her getting soju was a blessing underneath another blessing—you got alone time with your crush and some nice alcohol to ignite your system.

Nancy looks around at her friend's house. She admires every perfect painting bought for millions, every chandelier that mistletoes whoever stands beneath all its glory. They help her form her next statement.

"To be honest," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I thought you were in it to blackmail money out of Somi. To manipulate her. I love the girl, you know. She acts like she's all that, and she is, but she's… fragile. So I never let her be alone with you."

"Damn.” You admit that your heart sank a little, like a ship doomed by the ocean. “Am I really an ugly creep?"

"No, it wasn't that. I was just afraid you were a player. Like one of the jocks who bully Somi but don't ever get to her because she's too naïve to see that they're doing it. And you're not ugly, you know. You're…"

She's looking at you strangely, in that strategic little way she locks on artwork flashed in a Powerpoint from a projector in school. She's looking at you as if you were a complex, layered painting she couldn't wrap her head around. But being unable to pick you apart thrills her; there's a smile on her face.

"I'm what?" you ask, ever the dumbass. Or poophead—you take whatever.

"Don't make me say it. You're so full of yourself already."

"Respectfully, Nancy,” you declare, “I have no idea what you're saying. How can I when I didn't even know what a dodo was before eleventh grade?"

"You're handsome, okay?" Her cheeks get into this furious red color that she tries miserably to hide with her palms, hide with a dismissive laugh. "Good-looking. Attractive. Whatever."

Chew at the end of your lip to fight back a giddy grin. Did she really say that? A star out there in the looming night just granted your wish. "Well, you gave me the makeover back at Jessa's."

"Look at you being the patron saint of humility."

"I'm serious. I looked like a loser before you came in like a storm and rained that magic in my life."

“And now you’re Shakespeare.”

“When a girl like you comes into a guy’s life,” you say, leaning forward, “who wouldn’t be?”

"Well." Nancy huddles her chin into her palm. Her voice is as soft as cotton. "With a guy like you, you could say I never looked back."

But her voice dips, and there's a hidden subliminal message in it that causes you to look up. You could read it clear off her face there, off Nancy, off her soul that's never looked more clear.

Nancy, with her chestnut brown hair, ever the princess of autumn.

Nancy, with her comforting eyes full of resoluteness, as if she's wanted this to happen.

Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—

“Who the freak locked the door?” shrieks a familiar voice from outside. Well, not too outside when its volume closes in on the interior vicinity of the large mansion. “This is my house! Let me in or else I’ll call the cops—”

Sigh. Fucking cockblocker brat. You rise from the floor and approach the doorway. This time, you spare no time—you don’t want to look back and identify the look in Nancy’s eyes as you walk away.

“Calm down, the neighbors could hear you,” you laugh as you let the blonde girl in. You’re a little disappointed that she interrupted what was beginning to happen, but there’s time for that later. Can’t spare her an annoyed look, though. It melts when you see the cans of beer in plastic bags.

Nancy takes a bag from her sullenly. “No drinking past twelve.”

“No promises.” Empty a can into your open mouth. Somi claps her hands happily and almost drops all the alcohol she bought.

You help the girls stock the cans and bottles into the fridge. It’s the large, two-door one that could fit an entire person. Wait, it can contain all of you three? You’ve been to Somi’s so many times and only noticed it now.

But that’s the last thing you take note of, for here's what's new: ice cream overflows Somi’s freezer, yet a lot of them haven’t even had a crumb consumed from them. Somi says it’s because she keeps them for cheat days.

“Is today considered a cheat day?” you wonder out loud.

“Go crazy.” Indifferent, Somi gives you a tub each. Chocolate. Vanilla. Double dutch for her. “It’s not like Walmart’s gonna disappear unless the aliens come to Earth and have the bright idea to go wacka over there. Nope, Walmart’s always gonna have some more.”

“Aren’t you the best, Somi.” Ruffle her hair fondly while you scoop a humongous chunk of ice cream into your mouth. Alcohol and ice cream are delicious together, but your stomach turns around. It strangely stays intact, as if preparing for what might happen later tonight.

“Of course I am, are you buggin' or what?”

Somi licks the spoon of its sweetness, staring right at you. You don’t know how to react—her tongue’s gliding all over the utensil perfectly, collecting the studded white with nothing but clean performance. Her eyes don’t let up in their strong, connected gaze. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your airway.

Nancy watches amusedly. Okay, so maybe she does smile more than you think—it’s unlike any other one though. This one of hers is lined to the edges with smugness. “There’s our princess,” she remarks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The spoon catches somewhere sandwiched between Somi’s words.

Nancy shrugs with a serene calmness. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She walks away without another word or gesture. Suddenly tense in the bones, you and Somi close up together for reasons unknown.

“Is that just me being majorly freaky,” says Somi, eyes following her best friend with a new, imminent gaze, “or was that kinda hot?”

You don’t answer, but you think she knows. The two of you bond over shared experiences, and this one is about finding out how hot Nancy McDonie truly is. It’s not an unknown fact, but it’s the way her pupils settle over someone and linger just long enough to have them wondering; the way she commands a classroom; the way she rarely is vulnerable—it’s all that which leads to the very moment she leaned against the fridge door and watched silently, attracting the two of you even without the need for many words.

You’re droning again. Drowning, too, in her. In both of them—as you walk behind Somi, you can see that there isn’t a bra strap lining an imprint on her shirt and her ass is sticking out under her shorts. You barely could get yourself out of the waves as you wade your way to the stairs.

At least that’s a familiar high place you could seek refuge from: the loft. It’s kind of like an attic, but you don’t really care. It’s where you hang out and watch all the movies with them from a crappy projector. You don’t care about the films due to your conversations with them eventually proving to be more interesting.

“Roof?” Somi asks. She peeks out of the triangular window pane. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

Never been there before. Not that you aren’t willing to try. “Just don’t fall off,” you warn, though you’re nervous yourself to get there.

She slides a chair to you and then you’re climbing through a square-shaped gap at the low ceiling. You help the girls up onto the roof and become literally starstruck because—

Whoa.

Feels like a different world. The night is as vast as it is beautiful. Shining lights are embedded into the sky, the gray clouds barely visible with how they blend in with the color of the atmosphere. Each star has their own glimmer, but all of which share a common brightness—when partnered up with that large, pot-bellied moon, they become more perfect. The soft yet distinct sounds of the cicadas echo in your ears.

“Will anyone see us up here?” asks Nancy. Her vision is filled with shining galaxies, and her tone sounds dreamy. She says it in a way that isn’t out of concern for possible consequent trouble, but an appreciative one, as if she were wondering if anybody else could see how pretty it is up here.

“No one.” You shut the trapdoor and sit upon the curved edges of the roof. “It’s just us.”

“It’s just us,” she repeats this thoughtfully. You think that she’s smiling again, but you can’t be too sure.

Yes, it’s just you three. This intimate moment includes only you and the girls who turned your life around. Nobody else could get to bask in the simple happiness of hanging out all the way up here. This is for you, and no one else. Nobody could ever be friends with the girls the way you are.

You three take in the beauty of the night. All the way up here, the hills look higher than they already are. The sound of partying neighbors becomes static in the background. It becomes like foreign words in an uninteresting song—it’s nothing in comparison to the view of sloping roads, tall homes, and the trees swaying to the beat of the night wind. It can try its best to break your immersion and every attempt would be fruitless.

“Care for some double dutch?” Somi asks you. She juts out her tub of half-eaten chunks of ice cream. Appealing.

“As long as you don’t use the spoon you gave a blowjob to.”

Nancy snickers. She shoves your knee in reprimand, taking care not to put in so much force so you don’t topple down the roof and onto the main road.

“I’ll give BJs to any spoon I want, thank you very much, but alright. Do what you want. No ice cream for you, more for me.”

“I could go for some.” Nancy parts her lips.

“Glad to see we still have someone with a brain around here.” Somi shakes her head at you disapprovingly.

You squint your eyes while she feeds Nancy some double dutch. Note dutifully that she uses the same spoon she violated. Well, that’s one thing you didn’t expect. But they’re best friends—they’ve been there for each other through thick and thin, bad and good. Sometimes simple gestures like that show that there’s something in the midst of them that beats mere friendship.

But then you see the way they look at you, and you’re briefly toying with the idea that whatever they have, they got it with you, too.

“I still remember the first time we brought you here,” Somi says, leaning in front of you so she can get to wiping some cream from Nancy’s lips. “You tried to act cool, but you were really starstruck. Like the house was Zendaya’s or something.”

“I guess so.” You freeze up when she holds your hand. “I mean, I’m not exactly the richest.”

You think of your own house—sweet little place with a tall tree and a low gate, nothing special—then compare it to hers: a mansion with six floors and rooms that could substitute for hotel clients. Nancy’s is amazing, too. But you don’t really care about that. It’s a whole other thing that bothers you about it.

Nancy shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our friend. We’ll share it with you as much as you want.”

You’re finally able to name the thing. For months you’ve thought about it, but you never realized until this moment that it’s exactly what keeps you insecure about your friendship with them. That’s another thing they make you find out, besides style and bond.

“Yeah, I get it. But, but I’m a loser. I was a punk who made school life hell for you. I’m broke. Stupid. I don’t get what made you want to be friends with me.”

Maybe you're like Somi, too. You act like a king in school with a red carpet draped down on the floor for you, but you fear that your crown is undeserved. Sometimes you feel like you're a peasant deluded by dreams of status and strength.

“Besides you being stupidly hot,” Somi says, albeit sincerely—there’s no sarcasm or flirtatiousness in her pitch, “you’re not in it for the cash. You’re not in it just to say you’re besties with us.”

“And trust me,” adds Nancy, “that makes you a prodigy among others.”

They're right. You aren't in it for the popularity, the fame, not even the everyday free treats and outings you get. You just… like them. Somi's bright confidence inspires you; you've never seen a girl more self-aware than her. And Nancy's someone who takes her studies seriously, an example you should follow, while still maintaining a social life.

"What makes you so sure?" you say teasingly. They might've had some doubts along the way.

"I dunno," Somi says with a shrug. Her eyes curve north. "We just are."

They just are. Short and simple, but it somehow explains everything.

"And I guess we know a lot more about you than we think." Nancy twirls her fingertips along your thigh. "Because we want to show we're grateful. And, y'know, sorry for the ruckus we caused back there."

"You already have. The soju, the ice cream… I'm already good."

She smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Your mind can't keep up. What don't you get here?

Somi leans forward and flashes you a smile that raises your suspicions. "You're completely clueless. Like, if it danced in front of you in a housewife apron, you would still order your dumb poophead ass some chicken wings."

"What? Why the hell would a hint be wearing an apro—"

You don't know why or how, but she's kissing you like you got the point she's been pushing across.

Now you do.

"Call this… a friend's sincere apology."

Somi's pushed you down on the old mattress of the loft, with a new look on her face that tells you tonight would be everything you expected and didn't.

"Two friends' sincere apology," adds Nancy. Her shorts are off? You didn't notice in the dark, but you can make out the supple shape of her hips and thighs, full and meaty in all the right ways. "Question is: would you let us do it?"

Your answer is locked and loaded in your throat. Can't pull the trigger when her ass muffles your face.

Alright, perhaps—just perhaps, you aren't saying it's real—you've devoted a few seconds of your time appreciating when the wind picks up her skirt at school. You tried not to be perverted because, of course, she's your friend. Your best friend.

A best friend doesn't push hers down a mattress with the weight of her core on his face. She doesn't let him feel her full cheeks suffocate him, or start to move like she would please a lover.

So what are you and Nancy when she's doing each of those things?

Definitely not just friends.

"Fuck." The word leaves Nancy's mouth like a prayer. She doesn't pray often, but she religiously grinds her hips to and fro on top of you. The flat of your tongue massages her labia and tickles her prone clit. She's so wet that your lips quickly become coated. She looks back and moves her ass with stressed slides. "Your mouth is so good. So fucking good."

"Already?" Somi chuckles. She's not just your best friend either; her thighs hug one of yours and, like the girl she's always seen giggling and whispering with, she's grinding. Her movements are admittedly more fluid, but who's keeping note? "You talk real dirty for a prude."

Your pants slide off your legs as she finds the bare skin more appealing than denim. You flex and send a moan from her so carnal it might have literally clawed its way out of her throat. It's sharp. Needy. Wanton. Somi doesn’t speak like the rich princess she is when she moans for cock.

"I'm not a prude," Nancy says. Her breath is tinged to the tone with air. She's gasping as you tongue her and lick at her lips. "I just like being chaste."

"Please, sweetheart, you're aaanything but chaste."

"S-says the one who's sucking him off."

Both girls have mouths on them. Somi in particular. It's word-for-word how her lips trap your cock and start off with a strong suction. You moan right into Nancy's pussy. Said girl cries out when your lips strengthen their merciless suction on her pearl.

If you were to consider everything like a butterfly effect, you'd say Somi started it all: the sucking and moans. She's the one who's massaging your cock with those pink lips, effectively causing you to lose control and take it all out on Nancy. Poor Nancy, always the one to take it all. Now it's for good; she's squeezing her breasts and riding your mouth like a saddle.

"Blowjobs don't count!" Somi quips. You moan again; the tip of her tongue toys with your balls. It's like she lit a fire there no wetness can put out. (Well, you still have to see about that.) "We'll show him how real good girls say sorry later. You know what I mean, right, babe?"

That fucked nickname does things to you, even if it's not meant for you, because it foretells the sight you have to fight to see with Nancy's back blocking it: Somi placing her hands on her best friend's hips and guiding her movements on your mouth.

"Y-yes." You're surprised at how submissive Nancy sounds. So different from the commanding tone she assumes in morning assemblies.

You didn’t expect you’d be in this position. Another thing you didn’t expect was how wet Nancy is, and how she tastes. She’s tangy yet sweet, filling your mouth like a new favorite flavor. She also moans a lot, which is strange when she doesn’t really talk much outside of this setting. You’ve changed her, too. Just not in the way like she did taking you to Jessa’s. No, this is your way: keeping her drenched little pussy filled with a soft muscle that’s hard enough to have her legs shaking.

"That's right. Move that fat ass for him." Somi sits on the side with one hand on one side of Nancy's waist and another on your cock. She jerks you off hard, with a grip that's both too tight and too good. "Your nipples are sooo hard, Nancy. Just a hunch of mine, but I think you want me to suck on them. Make you cum on his handsome face."

Precum dribbles from your cockhead. How could Somi, the girl who speaks in coy accents, talk so filthy? She knows the time and place for that mouth, and it's right now and on Nancy's waiting breast.

Your length goes through bouts of impossible tightness induced by Somi's fist while your mouth (gladly) suffers another burden, which is Nancy's pussy and ass gyrating down on you. Your tongue doesn't know where to go so it goes everywhere: licking a wet line on her slit, diving into her drenched hole, teasing her clit. Nancy's thighs slam with your head in between.

"Fuck!" Her moans are straight up pornographic. "Oh, oh, it feels so good, don't stop!"

Somi runs a teasing finger on your slit, keeping the heat in one place before resuming having her palm wrap your dick. "Who says we're stopping? Yep, nobody. Just keep moving those hips, lovie. We still got so much to give him."

You didn't think it was possible, but yes. Nancy does sprawl out more, her outed pussy lips all puffy and sore from your doings. You’re ruining her with how you lick and let her push down. Her core must be strong for her to keep a good stance in the midst of it all.

It’s not like you’re left out. Somi’s to thank for that, with her hand not stopping as it pumps and pumps and pumps. The pace is dangerous like a feared waterfall that’s got signs telling travelers to be wary around it. She pulled you into it. It isn’t that you wanted to suffer under the rapidity when you feel comfortable with the descent and rise.

"Ah. Ahhh, please!"

Nancy never begs. She's above that, just like she is with everything else. But listen to her pleas and begs for more, for you to keep licking and sucking at the right places, for your hands not to pause in their journeys roaming the land of her perfect, curvy body.

Somi spanks her, and you quite literally feel her cheeks bounce in your face. You'd actually be okay with going out this way. Heaven could be found in Nancy's full ass.

Oh, right, and Somi’s hand. You’ve never taken Somi as the kind to get around a lot even when she acts overly sexual sometimes, but she must have learned those skills somewhere. Her hand is neither too tight nor too loose—it’s just the perfect grip for you to almost cum into her fingers. She’s determined to wring a climax out of you, too, with how harsh she slams her hand down on your core.

It’s a cycle of pleasure that has no means of ending. With Somi fingering herself, you getting the best handjob you’ve ever had, and Nancy having her pussy eaten out, none of you are left to waste away. It’s sin, that’s what it is. It’s an act that, if anyone had caught sight of, would have guaranteed a swift suspension—maybe even the chance of getting expelled.

But in this warm moment, all of you forget about that. Even Nancy has that off her mind when all she’s thinking about is your tongue delightfully fucking her wet hole.

“I’m… I’m cumming!” she wails. Her riding on your face spirals out of control, and again and again you’re blessed with her ass suffocating you.

It’s too much for one girl to take: a mouth going crazy on her pussy and another doing the same, if not crazier, on her tit. Your sucks and Somi’s own increasing when she announces her imminent bliss doesn’t help her case either. But maybe it does—she’s never felt this good. Whenever she secretly, scandalously toyed with her pussy under the covers at night, none of those porn videos and literotica made her cum as hard as you and Somi have. It feels like a large bubble has burst inside her when she finally releases, tensing up and freezing similar to if a frostbitten cold finally took its last toll on her.

She sighs heavily while she comes down. Her thighs shake and you have to pin them down the creaky mattress to keep eating of her. She shudders and pushes you down. You stop, like she hinted.

“You alright, Nancy?” You remember Somi asking a similar question earlier, in a situation that’s nothing compared to this. Yep, far from it. A continent away. You weren’t eating her out like a last meal in the classroom, were you?

Well, you would have wanted to if you’d discovered prior that her ass is really as nice as it looks.

“Yes,” she replies weakly.

You’re glad.

“I might have to try and get you to eat me out, too,” Somi says to you. She helps Nancy to get off your face after you got her off. “She was screaming, did you hear? You’d think somebody was like getting killed and– oh, wait, of course you couldn’t hear. Her thighs are just the perfect things to have wrapped around your head, right?”

Nancy blushes and looks away..

“But I think we should take the lead." Somi stops jerking you off. What quickly washes away your disappointment is when she takes her shirt off. "We’re the ones giving back.”

The recoil of her large chest is amazing; it rises as it’s hindered by the tight hem of her clothing, and settles back into its natural position after she rids herself of the fabric. Her rosy nipples are things work gawking at; they’re as stiff and hard as diamonds, telling you of how much she wants this. And you think you’ve seen a few of Somi’s diamonds she could purchase a whole mine of, but you’d still have a desire similar to the blonde’s: you want her more.

“I’ve seen you looking at them. Don’t pretend and go all ‘oh nooo, that’s not true.’” She gives her own gifted bosom a firm grope. Her head throws back due to the pleasure. “You stare all the time. It makes me kinda assume that you want me to do something with them.”

“And what could that be?” you ask in a futile attempt to match her cockiness. Should’ve known that it’s a losing game trying to beat Jeon Somi in being a brat. It’s a god-given gift, a skill that needs no honing. She’s just like that.

“Duh. Like I said, I’ll show, not tell. This isn’t primary school.”

She shows a hefty amount, you’ll tell her that. Your mouth falls out at what happens. She takes her tits into her hands and leans down to envelope your cock in them. She seals it tight around your girth.

Fuck.

She then starts to move. Up and down she goes, toying with her nipples on the way. It makes her core more drenched than it already is.

She’s the master of eye contact. She picked it up with her natural confidence. Why do you think she walks the hallways with a gaze that’s only directed straight ahead? Talks to new kids like she already knows them? She’s never seen weak, and tonight is no exception. Her fierce eyes speak of lust and strength of knowing she’s having her way.

Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.

Again, this time is no exception.

“Fuck, Somi…” you say in quiet groans.

Someone needs to pinch you. This can’t be real. Never did you think what you’ve been dreaming would actually come true. The nights you touch yourself to the frequent sight of her tits practically bursting out of her uniform, you think of this same exact thing. You think of using her breasts like a toy, and now you’re experiencing it for real.

Perhaps one of the stars out there really took one for the team and granted two of your wishes at the same time.

Are you in wonderland? The movement of her tits provide a solid pace that’s hard to keep up with. Its warm, slick embrace has you on the edge of the mattress. You don’t ever want to run away from this feeling. It’s slick and tight yet rough, giving you a pleasure that’s confusing just as it is enjoyable.

“How’re you doing there?”

“I like it. More than like,” you breathe. Swallow what’s already been said.

Somi’s tits are a dream. They might as well have been made out of clouds with how soft they are, even when hugging your dick. You see yourself disappear between them and moan. Look up at Somi and see her seductively bite her lip; moan harder. Who knew all that barky flirtatiousness had a bite to them?

“Really?” she asks. She stops for a regretful moment to slap your cock against the side of her boob. The curve of your length heats up. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

She resumes, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The friction is everything to live for, and you’re a man who’s had no wish to die. Somi’s pale chest, guided by her hands trapping your cock between the massiveness in front of you, propels you to a close orgasm.

You switch your focus briefly to Nancy. She hums from afar. You notice that her fingers are in between her legs. She’s enjoying it as much as you are. “Could you stop being a brat for like, one second?” she chuckles, though it twists between her moans.

She’s sitting on the floor with her well-eaten pussy splayed to welcome her digits, and they definitely are welcome visitors. Her mouth is open though no more words come out.

“What? He likes it.” Somi jumps the pace to a rapidity you cry out for, and smiles that smile. The smile she only does when she’s doing or will be doing something she shouldn’t be. Explains a lot—if you two were just best friends, she wouldn’t be titfucking you. “And this is an apology, right? I’m saying sorry for punching him in the balls.”

“God,” you laugh out loud in spite of it all. “If this is the way you apologize, I’d have you punch my balls everyday.”

“I could do that. Say your apologies, too, Nancy. The way you’ll know he likes it.”

It’s as if she made your wet dream and worst nightmare come true. Can you even take more? It’s a question that apparently is disregarded of its answer; Nancy crawls over to the edge of the old, discarded mattress to suck on your swollen balls whenever Somi’s tits rise.

They’re arsonists, and your whole body is the unfortunate victim. Although they attend only to your crotch except for the here-and-there brushes on your stomach and legs, your toes and arms burn. Somi and Nancy are sending heat waves everywhere. You twist and turn and propel and cry—none of those banish it. And it’s for the better because you’ve never felt closer to paradise.

You have to groan loudly. It can’t be muffled when the sensations are coming at you all at the same time. You can feel Nancy’s tongue dragging its edge along your sensitive flesh and her friend’s tits bouncing around you; see the two students’ sultry looks never breaking; hear one girl’s grunts as she fucks you with her bosom and the other’s moans; touch the mane of Nancy’s autumn hair to pull her deeper into your crotch; taste an orgasm that couldn’t really just come now when it’s this close—

“Oh shit, fuck!” The most senseless of curses come out of you after Somi’s titjob provokes a messy, violent orgasm. You’d be more coherent than that if she were letting up. Not possible when she doesn’t; she keeps bouncing up and down to jerk your cock off with her deep cleavage.

Somi hums delightfully at the never ending spray of cum on her tits. Nancy stops suckling harshly at your left testicle in order for her to be able to do it instead to the rod beside it.

“Nancy, fuck, so good—” you say, hissing as your hips rise up.

You’re inadvertently facefucking her like this. Your hips move with their own will. They push up hard into Nancy’s beautiful lips. She in turn reacts with spontaneous downward drives of her head, welcoming you into her tight throat and letting you savor her mouth.

Somi fixes the girl’s hair into a ponytail of brown. She could see the bulge you’re making on her throat. She nods her on whenever Nancy looks at her with hesitation, and rubs your thigh to get your sensitivity levels to an all-time peak. She certainly got what she wanted and expected, as per usual, for you’re moaning with the tone of someone who gets paid to do it; shivering though it’s anything but cold here in this loft that’s gotten warm for other reasons besides the fireplace.

Nancy gags as she pulls away. Now she’s poured on by the white rain, too; some get into her hair while the others find a landing place on her shirt. God, that must have been expensive. You’re not here to make reparations, just to remind yourself; this is for you. They gave you this opportunity.

However, your heart pumps with anxiety hearing Nancy hack and cough. You quickly get to the floor, knees shaking on the way. “Hey,” you start, with a thumb on her chin, “you want to keep going?”

It doesn’t look like it for a second, but then those beautiful dark eyes connect with yours and suddenly all the discomfort is away. She smiles.“Y-yeah!” she says with a half-giggle. “All okay here.”

“Awesome.” Somi pats her back repeatedly and strokes her hair. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get you to suck on my tits.”

You look at said tits and gulp. Yeah, that beautiful chest covered with your release is tempting to be gawked at. But still, time and place even for jokes. Nancy’s about to have a goddamned asthma attack.

“You are so out of line sometimes,” you say to Somi disapprovingly.

“It’s alright.” Nancy grins. Wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nobody said apologies weren’t hard to do.”

The look of defiance and mischief softens on Somi’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure he won’t mind, right, oppa?”

“Yeah,” you butt in, something you would have done even without Somi’s jab at your shin. Dear god, is the girl a bodybuilder in disguise or something? That hurt almost as much as the punch to your balls. “Nancy, I appreciate it and everything, but if you want to back out—”

Look, this is everything you wished for. You wanted to have intimate moments with them probably since just a few months before the friendship was sealed. They’re beautiful girls, and you love Nancy especially closely. However, if they want to stop, you have to. Not to become a white knight or anything, but that’s natural law. You don’t force anybody into it.

“It’s okay, seriously.” Nancy’s relieving words now pass more smoothly through her lips. “Are you liking it so far?”

Alright, another thing to analyze. What else is there to answer? “Yes” is a painfully obvious reply to her question. You’ve had her ass on your face and Somi’s tits screwing an orgasm out of you. This is what wet dreams are made of, except that the white leak doesn’t end up on the fabric of your sheets anymore.

It ends up on Somi’s amazing chest. Any man would die to catch sight of them. They’re round and full, settling at the perfect position whenever she breathes while covered from areola to nipple with your sticky load. Your semen even slides down to her midriff. You’re more convinced that she’s a bodybuilder—for this, it’s more obvious: her abs are hard and firm. You’ve worked out a lot and have not once gotten to that point of solidness.

Your cock can’t say the same.

“I loved it. You?”

“I liked it, and, and I—”

“You want to answer him, brunette-ie?” Somi asks mockingly, swirling white on her collarbone. Yet another wonder to gawk at.

“That doesn’t work for other hair colors,” points out Nancy with a giggle.

“It does when I say so.”

Nancy tilts her head. Her smile suddenly doesn’t look too playful anymore. “Not everything’s gonna go your way tonight, blondie.”

“Is that so?” Somi curls her hair from her shoulders and tilts that pretty little head they hold. “Because if I have to say it again, McDonie, it’s—”

Nancy knows there’s no point arguing with her. It’s not the right occasion today. Fortunately, she has better ways of making Somi shut up.

It’s not completely shutting her up when all it does is make her create more noises. These are more pleasant to the ears in comparison. When Nancy attaches her pretty lips to her best friend’s tit, Somi’s words freeze in midair. You could see all her brattiness melt drop by drop. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a whimper.

If your cock was flaccid already from the raunchy sex (because you started it all off with a bang, literally,) it isn’t now. It perks up hard upon seeing the most beautiful girls you know engaging in such obscene acts. Nancy’s already shown you how talented her mouth is, but she’s only hanging the knowledge out for everyone to see with how she cleans Somi’s right breast of your cum. The nipple she performs on is stiff, and she takes special care in gently guiding her teeth along it.

“Fuck,” Somi says, voice breathy. All those little signs—her breathing shortening whenever Nancy dares to suckle a little bit harsher, bite a little harder; her legs suddenly shaking and weakening—lead you to a conclusion: they’ve done this before. Whether for rehearsal for this moment or for just mere curiosity, it’s hot nevertheless.

“Now will you shut that dirty mouth up?” Nancy uses that exact voice in the classroom, and hearing her use it in this moment makes her sound so much sexier. Gone is the passive prude that she is (or is pretending to be? That voice can’t be birthed from just leadership skills)—she knows how to put a brat in her place.

“If you think,” says Somi, with a laugh that’s too pitchy to be genuine in its sarcasm, “that sucking my boobs’ll make me a good little bitch, then you’re wrong.”

Is Nancy wrong? Probably. Somi’s the most defiant, outspoken girl you know. Nothing has stopped her from getting her way. You bet if Armageddon came into reality and all the world went to shit, Somi would be commanding the demons to get her a pumpkin spice latte and the angels to call her a limo.

“So you don’t want to be good and get on his cock?”

Nancy stands up. You’re once again reminded of the eternally truthful fact that her ass is amazing. She shimmies it on your cock, slipping it between her cheeks but never really allowing penetration, and afterwards starts to bounce her butt beautifully for you.

You can’t help but run your hands all over the perfect fat thing. You lift the cheeks to let them ripple photogenically as they settle down, going as far as well to give her a few spanks. You’re lost in this sex-filled dream. You’re in a coma seeing the too-good-to-be-true ass of Nancy McDonie.

Somi twitches her mouth to one side. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t want to feel his big fat cock inside you,” and Nancy’s more dangerous than you think—she takes your cock and starts to tease its head on her lips and asshole, “and really get a taste of how he stretches you out?”

You bite your lip, enjoying what she’s doing to you and Somi. Your other friend has never looked more needy—large, rabbit eyes peer jealously at Nancy getting to have you for herself. Or is it the other way around? The looks she gives Nancy’s drenched pussy and your solid cock are equally full of hunger.

“You want to answer, blondie?” An echoed statement, but it doesn’t lose its effect on Somi.

Nancy smirks. She’s a natural-born leader, often managing to fight her way to be in charge. It isn’t the same for the other, who’s been raised to have everything her heart desires. Right now, seeing you hint to fucking her best friend is making her needy. Really needy. She wants you for herself, too.

Nancy shrugs at Somi’s continued refusal to answer. “Suit yourself,” she says. She twists around to face you and commands, in a loud whisper, “I want it in my ass, oppa.”

“No!” Somi finally breaks. Her cheeks are pink. “I mean, like, not yet. Fine. Whatever, f-fine, I’ll be good. Just let me have him, too.”

“That’s more like it.” Nancy kisses her, a feat that has you blushing regardless of you not being the recipient of that gesture. “He and I can do that later.”

Somi scrambles to her feet the second Nancy leaves your lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, she plops herself down on you, filling herself to the hilt all at once. Her toned back is turned, but you can paint a picture of her face as she moans. Her mouth parts widely to cry out, and you could imagine her staring at the black insides of her eyelids as the wonderful filling results in getting her to see stars.

“Ohhh my god,” she drawls out. Her legs shake. “You were gonna fill your ass with something this big?”

You reach up from behind her to squeeze her tits. You can’t believe your dick had the chance to feel them before you did—they could do a role as stress balls; they’re soft, large, and you’d love to squeeze them any time of the day. Yep, also on the times you aren’t stressed in the first place. That’s how perfect Somi’s alluring breasts are.

Her pussy is the main attraction to all of this, however. She’s obviously so turned on—her wetness is like an avalanche of need on your cock for it floods your shaft without the need for an orgasm. Not that you aren’t gonna give it to her. When her pussy’s this snug and warm, this wet and tight, how are you going to do anything but make her cum?

You start to hump her rabidly. Your hips send her bouncing up and down on your lap, making it so that whatever happens, her starting point and ending point is always your cock. Somi’s moans cut and break into emphasized cries. In your hands, her tits make gravity look so appealing; they bob high in the air and rest heavily into your palms. There’s always a sharp rebound, a sharp cry from her. Her moans just make fucking your school’s signature brat a five-star experience.

“What did I tell you? I’m not a prude,” Nancy replies smugly. She spreads Somi’s legs to the point that she’s technically doing a split on your dick. “I also know how to suck on this little nub right here. Like I did to your big tits, remember?”

At first, Somi doesn’t get what she means. But then Nancy licks quickly at her vulnerable clit, and she understands it fully. “F-fuck, Nancy unnie!” she cries out.

She tenses up in your lap. As an effect, she gets impossibly tighter. You fight it with sharp thrusts, but she always ends up closing around you. You pierce her tightening walls and find that no amount of wetness and slick could get her to part her walls.

“‘Unnie’?” Nancy licks up and down. In the face of it all the run of her voice remains gentle. You splay Somi’s pussy lips to help her out. “You never call me that. Do I have to suck your clit everyday to get you to have some manners?”

Oh, but Somi can’t be taught manners. Just a few licks around and on her bundle of nerves has her forgetting to use a proper inside voice. It’s hopeless when she’s screaming and writhing all over the place. That’s what the combination of your thrusts and her fellow council president’s tongue does to her: it turns her into this crazed nympho just begging to be touched and used.

She’s lucky to have friends like you and Nancy who are willing to be patient in teaching her. Your methods aren’t the most orthodox, you’ll admit—what kind of friend would team up with another in ruining her cunt?

“The princess here needs to learn a lesson, after all,” you whisper in her ear. Your hands on Somi’s wide hips, your fire pumps harshly into her without daring to slip out. Nope, you’re staying inside her forever. “You’re gonna be a good girl, aren’t you, Somi? You’re gonna let us fuck you into being a good girl?”

“You sound so stupid, you know that? Like you came from friggin’ Fifty Shades of Gray or something.” Somi sticks her tongue out at you, then it idly hangs from her lips after you reprimand her with a few scolding thrusts. She begins to whimper, eyes filling with tears of need.

“Tell us to stop then.” You aren’t fazed. You know what that face she makes means too well.

You propel up into her with the force of one who almost hates her to be fucking her like that. You spread her legs wider. Bury your face into her hair because she’s your blondie.

She says nothing.

You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.

She utters not a single word.

Nancy slips her tongue inside for a brief moment, joining you, then places kisses on her inner thighs.

She finally makes a noise, and it’s a couple sounds stringed into whines.

It’s not the childish one she makes whenever she’s refused something as miniscule as a bite of a doughnut, but one of real weakness. She just showed the two of you where her Achilles spots lay. She’s a sucker for this, and all the same, you’re a sucker for her neck and shoulders that always smell of lilies. Take it all in before leaving love bites all over the pale, prone skin.

She takes deep breaths.

Nancy asks her if she’s cumming, and she screams—

“Yes yes yes! Just keep eating me out, Nancy unnie, keep fucking me, oppa! I’m gonna cum so hard!”

Nancy makes a show of licking the underside of your entering and exiting cock all the way up to Somi’s pussy lips. The two of you groan ecstatically. This she repeats until your precum starts to wet Somi’s walls and Somi’s clit is practically quivering from the abuse. It doesn’t stop there. She grabs Somi’s tiny waist and pushes the girl’s core into her mouth.

“Shit, Nancy!” Somi gasps lewdly. The new position gives you ample space to take time in withdrawing then slamming every inch into her aching body. “I’m gonna cum, gonna c-c-cum, please—fuck!”

There she goes. She falters heavily into you as her orgasm takes over.

You caress her rising and falling midriff, suddenly wrapped into the need to help her come down. You kiss the back of her ear and her neck. Whisper sweet everythings there (because you mean each one: you’ll take care of her all the way). Nancy stops eating her and rubs her thigh comfortingly.

Through it all, Somi’s still your baby. The girl you tend to because you know she loses herself sometimes.

This is the calm after the storm. For a moment, it’s all soft. Somi may remain with her pussy filled with your length, but it doesn’t change the tenderness you have for her. For Nancy. For the relationship the three of you have.

“Are you all bright and happy there?”

“Fuck you, of course I am.” That tells you she’s not tapering off lust-induced insanity that much. If she were, though, she’d still maintain that feistiness. “I can’t believe we did that. And I can’t believe you didn’t cum inside me.”

“Safe sex, princess.” Nancy’s back to her serious yet half-joking self. She brushes Somi’s nose playfully. “Didn’t you listen to sir Lars?”

“I’m safe today, though…”

“Hmm. Next time?”

“Next time,” replies Somi with a bit more satisfaction. “For now, I want to see you get your ass fucked.”

Maybe it’s going too fast, like an amateur author’s prodded pacing with a debut novel, but in the flash of the moment you find that you don’t care. You and Nancy share one look and just know tonight is going to be different than all the other ones with hookups, exes, everything. This one runs deeper—it’ll define who you are for the rest of the evening.

Somi sits down at what used to be the headboard of the mattress. She’s good with just watching after the violent orgasm she had. Nancy really went all-out. Must have still been thinking about that speech she made.

Your mind stalls on Nancy right now. She’s on her hands and knees, and she’s looking back at you with this nervous yet crazed desire. It’s written clear on her face. Then there’s the rest of her beautiful body—that back, her full thighs, that ass. You knew she was beautiful with a great body to go with it, but you didn’t really figure it was an unfiltered truth until now.

“I—I brought lube,” she says timidly. She looks away, and it’s so unlike her to be this meek that your instinctive reply is a laugh.

“You came prepared.”

Somi throws you the bottle, and while you lather some of its content on Nancy’s asshole, you’re faced with millions of questions. “I assume you planned this? Or do you just bring lube whenever I’m around?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. God, do you love to make them do that. You were born to. You were made to make her roll her eyes at you between her laughs. “Stud,” she whispers.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She still hasn’t figured out it isn’t derogatory with you. Or with any guy for that matter. You chuckle softly. Love how her hole closes tighter the second you wipe some of the handy liquid on it. “Ready?”

She nods. There’s hesitation, but the upward perk of her ass can’t mean anything else than transparent want.

“Boooring!” Somi yells out, arms in an “X”-sign in front of her. You’re the actors, and she’s the disapproving film critic. And god knows how insufferable film critics are. “Ever heard of porn without plot, you absolute doodooheads?”

“Porn without plot? You read way too much fanfiction, Somi. Like, way too much.”

“Hello? Peepee in the poopoo hole now, if you please.”

You give her a tired look in spite of your small laughs. “Can you make it sound any less sexy?”

“She’s right,” Nancy says in a tiny voice. “I want you now.”

There’s the (with a trademark after that) look again, somber and wide. She needs you. You need her. So why are you stalling? Idiot. You need to put yourself together.

Slip past the defiance of Nancy’s asshole, and curse immediately. It isn’t even halfway in and you’re already close. She’s too tight that it almost beats the tightness of Somi’s pussy. You’re not sure you’re ready for this. Run your hand along Nancy's back and feel the sweat stick to your hand. She’s nervous. In pain. At least, you assume so.

“Need to breathe?”

Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”

It’s hell itself trying not to give in to your instincts and pound away into her ass. It’s just so perfect, the way it trembles and shakes and unintentionally sends vibrations your way. Sends those full cheeks bouncing.

Even in a state of need-to-get-it-together, Nancy still looks her prime. Her hair, all those chestnut locks, sticks to her back as she pants. Her face has never looked prettier. She’s gorgeous as could be, and you realize that it’s these moments—not her beauty pageants where she’s all dolled up by attending stylists, not when she manages a glow-up (when she already is the most beautiful woman you know) weeks before class pictures are taken—that take your breath away. She’s just there, just existing, and you maintain your preposition: down bad.

“Tell me if you lovebirds need to stop,” says Somi. “Because what I’m seeing here is– oh my.”

Nancy starts to fuck herself on you. She wants to do this—Somi’s words are her motivation. Her ass constricts tighter and tighter as you penetrate her, but you make it work. Make it fit. She’s so stretched out but she doesn’t stop. It makes you temporarily heed the idea that a glitching robot is controlling her. The recoil and push of her ass are too rough.

“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut firmly. “Feels so fucking good.”

If you’re making Nancy curse, it’s either really good or really bad. You’re betting on the former. Her ass rotates and circles before you, welcoming her into its depths, and you can’t find your breath again. You must have lost it, lost it somewhere in the atmosphere that smells of sex and sweat.

There isn’t even any foreplay to go by. She simply pushes back and takes every inch of your dick. While you lost hold of your breath, Nancy’s found hers, and puts it to good use with her moans.

“You’re… opening me up so much,” gasps Nancy. She looks back to see that you’re forming a steady reciprocal rhythm that’s starting to gape her hole.

“Should I go slower?” you ask hesitantly. You slip a hand to her mound then settle a thumb over her clit. It throbs, still sensitive from the sucking.

“No, god, no. Go faster. Please.” Her words are broken off like blunt phrases, but you catch on to her meaning. She wants it fast even for the first time.

It’s lucky you took your time rubbing lube on your shaft and her hole. As time goes by, Nancy’s ass only grows tighter. It clings to you, afraid to let go. Her legs shake yet they’re strong enough to push and pull, receiving you into her backside.

The mattress starts to creak. Its old springs are resurrected and the first thing they do is make squeaking sounds. It’s drowned out by the sound of Somi touching herself. Her wet pussy is slick as her finger rubs firmly on her own clit and her mind runs with the idea of her being in Nancy’s place. Her toes are already curled tightly.

Nancy’s words don’t lose their eccentric tone even if she’s being plowed from behind. The broken mirror discarded to the corner reflects her expressions. One minute she’s smiling drunkenly, and the second minute her eyes are dazed, as if she were taken straight out of an 18+ anime magazine. The next minute she’s suddenly gasping for air. No, air isn’t what she needs. Everything that’s essential is hidden right inside your cock, and she’s going to get it.

“Need it, need it, need it.”

She squeezes tighter, and you wince. It feels good. Too good, in fact, that you chase after the feeling with quick pumps.

“H-hah, I know you want to do it,” she says, turning to you. She kisses you and smiles weakly. “So cum in me. Cum in my ass, I need it so fucking bad—”

She interrupts herself with a sharp draw of breath. Your fingers have entered her and are frantically moving, filling her over and over and jabbing at her walls. You take advantage of her sensitivity more than you should, and she loves it.

Nancy cries out. She folds herself over the mattress more, muffling her face in its olden softness. She feels so full. With your cock stuffing her sweaty ass and your fingers wiggling around inside her, there’s only one path this is destined for. But she wants to make the journey last. She doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“P-please, I can’t take it,” she whines. She muffles a scream. It doesn’t help; her next words are shouty. They don’t sound so intimidating when they come out pitchy and needy. “I’m going to cum all over you, for you, just please do the same. Please. Please, oh—”

Perhaps it’s your natural way of catering to whatever Nancy requires, which is to mean what you do everyday, but you end up exploding inside her. She moans happily, and you feel her drip a little as she comes to her climax as well. The little leak grows stronger as you firmly rub her clit. Your thighs soon suffer the damages of her flood.

Whimpering and overstimulated, Nancy’s screams almost make the windows shatter. Through all this, she pounds herself back into you, and you do the same. None of you want this to end.

Be that as it may, nothing lasts forever. It could be that it’s a gift, for when you pull out of your crush and spray the remaining shots of cum onto her beautiful back, you realize you’re stark exhausted.

“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”

Here’s how it goes after that: the three of you showered and are ready to go rest. You couldn’t try for shower sex, not when all of you are spent. You’ve sprayed and fucked and came too many times to count that it’s for the common good that you take a break.

Bruises litter your jaw but it’s alright. Nothing a little makeover can’t fix. Nancy still worriedly brushes it with a tender finger.

“I swear, Nancy,” you laugh, “I’m fine. You should be worried about yourself.”

Nancy nods obediently, but her eyes still linger on the purple spot.

“God, get a room,” says Somi with a groan, handing you your dessert. Is this her way of aftercare? “Oops, you already did. Silly me.”

You’re all wrapped in comfortable bathrobes. They’re the ones with the really silky fabric, the kind that feels like clouds dropped from heaven and onto you. They settle comfortably on your sore bodies. You go to the roof even with only those “clothes” on. Not one of you cares for decency; considering what you did earlier, it’d be hypocritical to try and salvage some self-respect.

Oh, who minds anyway? Not you three. All you want is some rest.

“Not funny,” Nancy says. She takes a careful bite of her roll, licking her lips with a glare.

“My bad. Should try again the next time we stop fucking.”

You stop chewing. “Wait… so you’re saying we’re doing that again?” you ask, suddenly flustered.

You’re not complaining. It only took a few minutes for you to discover that sex with the duo is the perfect mix of soft and rough. Exactly your kind. Okay, so maybe the rough part outweighs the other, but you aren’t turning back. Your concern is your friendship—would you still see each other as reliable people, or would that be warped by lust?

You’re young. Nothing is permanent—that’s what you’re taught. What if that counts for the relationship you have, too?

“You don’t want to do it?” Somi asks in a voice so small you barely could make out the words.

“No, no, I do.” Scratch the back of your neck. How do you say this without sounding super attached? (You are.) “But… are we still friends? Are we still good with each other?”

Nancy gives you an amused look. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she inquires, genuinely curious.

“I—I thought—”

“Look, we all know what we feel.” Somi takes your hand and presses it to her thigh. Her face portrays a solemn yet caring look. It feels foreign seeing such a serious face on such a spunky girl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends along the way. You’re still our Frankenstein. We made you.”

“Is the alcohol plus hot choco combo doing something to you or what? Frankenstein is the name of the crea—”

Somi groans and mashes you in the face with her cinnamon roll. “Get outta here with your nerd BS,” she says. She’s smiling, though.

“Get out of here with your own dodo BS, bottle blonde.”

“Dodos are essential knowledge, not some facts about a stupid ass mon—”

“If you two don’t stop,” says Nancy, knowing when a playful fight starts and how to stop it before it does, “you’re both getting out.”

Are these the girls you fucked in that small loft just a few hours prior? They don’t ever change, do they? They might be hot as hell, but they’re still Jeon and McDonie, the girls you’re friends with. Your hearts remain in the places they were before.

But maybe deeper, delving into the core of your chests.

Somi directs her eyes up at the moon floating in the night sky and smiles. You’ve always loved it when she smiles, menacing as it could be sometimes. She looks like a giddy girl who was just taken to a candy store. There’s this pure, sweet grace to it that infectiously makes you grin, too.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she says dreamily.

“It is,” Nancy agrees. She’s looking cute herself; her cheeks are stuffed with cinnamon rolls.

You look up as well. They’re right. The moon does look prettier tonight. You’re no selenophile, but you swear the large spots of gray and black on its rounded curves make it look more serene. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Well,” you say, smiling, “I can die happy.”

It was supposed to end like that. You all know what you meant. This was supposed to be a memory you’d keep stowed in the drawers of your minds to look fondly at later in life. But you just had to ruin the moment by suddenly sitting up straight and staring with wide eyes at your hands. What have you done? You can’t believe you could do such a thing.

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.

“You know that quote you said earlier about first impressions?”

“Yeah?”

“And how I said Michael Jordan was smart for saying it?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“I remembered it wrong.” You gulp. “Michael Jackson said it, not Michael Jordan.”

“Are you in your right mind? How could you even think that?” asks Somi, cackling. She almost topples down the roof. “Like, seriously, oppa, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, opp—”

“For fuck’s sake—”

2K notes · View notes

recentadultburnout · 10 months

Text

Info for writer in Thai series fandom: University life

First meet

Many faculty will have seniors (mainly 2nd year) arrange an optional meeting before the start of the semester for first-years to get to know each other and familiarize themselves with the location. It may have some games and activities also.

Dormitory

Student dormitories can be divided into inner and outer dormitories. An inner dormitory (หอใน:ho nai) refers to the dormitory provided by the university specifically for the students of that university, while an outer dormitory(หอนอก:ho nok) refers to the dormitory that is owned by outsiders who are not affiliated with the university.

The inner dormitory has the advantage of being in the campus, making going to class convenient and it is cheap, but the downside is that the dormitory is usually old, the gate has strict opening and closing times, and it is crowded. When I was in the inner dormitory, there were five people per room, all of whom were randomly assigned. Three regular beds and one bunk bed. Everything in the room is close together. Everyone has a bed, a table, and a locker, one each. Other than that, there will be only a narrow path. I mean, I live in the oldest dormitory, and it's the one they say is the worst, but it's really small.

For the outer ones, it varies, but most are more expensive, have better rooms, and since the number of people in the room depends on our own management, it is likely less crowded.

The inner dormitory has a clear division of male and female dormitories, while the outer dormitory usually does not, but some only accept female tenants as well.

In some universities, first-year students are required to live in the dormitory first (But some will pay for both the inner and outer dormitories and stay in the outer dormitory for most of the time.). Maybe for the convenience of doing activities that first-year students will have more than in other years or maybe for safety reasons. After that, everyone was free to move to whichever outer dormitory they wished. But, for those who wish to live in a dormitory after their first year at the university, they may not be able to stay if there is not enough room, as all first-year students will be prioritized since it is a requirement.

Oh! And I'm not sure if other universities are different, but for mine, all first-years in a faculty will be moved into inner dormitories at once on the same day with the help of their seniors (mostly 2nd year). You are on your own when it's time to move out, though.

+bonus

For some reason, inner dormitories often have ghost stories. And one of the popular ways students used to keep ghosts out of their rooms is by writing a sign telling them the room is already full and there isn't anything the ghost likes inside the room.

Example

Inner dormitory - Star in my mind

Outer dormitory - Bad Buddy, Theory of love

รับน้อง (rap-nong) to welcome first-year students/hazing ritual

When we say Rapnong, it can mean a fun game to get to know each other or a pathetic attempt to show off the power of a college kid who's just one to three years older than us. And, because the former can sometimes escalate into the latter, many people have attempted to eliminate the overall rapnong.

The common activities are: self-introductions among first-year, learning to sing college/faculty songs, making name tags, remembering information about college/faculty/friends, dancing and singing to songs like those in ch.10, hunting for seniors' autographs, playing games or doing whatever "test" the senior can think of.

After we pass the "test," there is often an attempt to create a touching atmosphere between seniors and juniors, welcome to the institute fraternity speech, tying wrist rap khwan ceremony, or something like that.

The duration of the event may be several days, It could be a continuous period or it could be several but short periods of time.

Example

Sotus

Contest

A Dao(star-girl) and Deun(moon-boy) contest is a beauty contest. Usually, it takes place around the beginning of the first semester. All entrants are first-year students. In some universities, trans people can enter the contest with cis people; in some, trans have a separate contests called Daothiam(satellite); and in some, trans people cannot participate at all. The Dao and Deun contest was the most basic one, but it is not the only one. There are other contests carried out at the same time too. What the contest is varies by university. For example, a comedy star contest.

All of the entrants will have to prepare for the contest and that needs quite some time. They usually have an overnight stay for a few days together at some point. They also might have to miss out on other activities that other first-year students attend a little in the process.

The winners of all these contests are responsible for publicizing various matters for the university.

These days, the contest has begun to be cancelled in some universities due to its association with beauty privilege and beauty standard issues.

Example

2Moons, Star in my mind

Volunteer-ish? activities (for society or university)

There are numerous volunteer activities in which the organizer anticipates that the participant will be a student, organizes specifically for students to participate, or organizes by students themselves. And while that could be because university is a time when we have both time and energy to give these new activities, or because it's a time when we can easily find friends to go with us, half the reason there are so many is that it's not actually purely voluntary.

At some universities, these activities are included in the curriculum. In order to graduate, students have to choose an activity that meets the college's requirements to complete and report to the university. In some universities where dormitories are in short supply, people with a history of participating in these activities may have the right to stay over those who do not. And in addition, some scholarships require recipients to undertake some service in order to make social contributions as well.

Trip

I will separate it into two types: a volunteer trip and a study trip. Sometimes one might get to go on a trip for their volunteer activities. Those are usually funded by whoever recruits people. And sometimes your department will get a budget, and so you get to go on a trip for learning purposes. But from my experience, you only need to have enough learning part for a report that someone will need to send in for a budget, so not really that much learning happens

Sports event

There are countless sports events if we count alluniversities in Thailand. For example, there is the Freshy Game, where freshies from each faculty get to compete. The University Games of Thailand are where a ready and voluntary university gets to compete. Isan relations sports event in which members of Thailand's Northeastern Student Union compete in folk sports. The Thailand University League is a football match between universities in Thailand. The CU–TU Traditional Rugby–Football Match is a competition between CU and TU teams to win the trophy given by the King or royal family member. This one is quite famous and even outsiders give it attention. CHEM ENG GMES, ATOMIC GAMES, ConneK DAY, and so on.

Cheer

Cheer is one of the sports that Freshy Game is likely to have, and it can be quite a high percentage of scores too. Unlike other sports, cheer is all about making a show. It has dancing, singing, a stage that we have to make pretty, a dress, a queue rehearsal and the like. People on the same team will have different responsibilities, which can be divided into four categories: cheerleaders, people on the stand, music, and props. On competition day, a cheerleader will dance in front of the stand, and people on the stand will sing, clap, and do a little dance in some cases.

Sai Rahat(สายรหัส)

Sai means line and Rahat means code. In many universities, each senior is assigned to take care of one junior at random. The senior will be called phi sai or phi rahat, and the junior will be called nong sai or nong rahat by other parties. Sai Rahat is what we will have when such an assignment is carried out continuously. Typically, each year does not exactly have the same number of students, so sometimes the line will get merged, two seniors for one junior. Or split into two, one senior for two juniors. And by doing that, you will get an indirect phi sai or nong sai.

At the beginning of the first semester, first year students will be assigned a senior or two as their phi sai, but they won't get to know who it is yet. They have to try to find that out by themselves first, and if they still didn't know when it was time to reveal, then they are considered to have lost the game and will get punished, usually by doing something embarrassing.

After that, each Sai rahat will usually pick a date to gather and eat together. The chance that everyone since the first generation can come in is really slim to none. It's kind of a tradition to make the oldest who come pay at least part of the youngest and possibly for others too. The older you are, the higher your chances of paying. The younger you are, the higher your chances of getting free food.

Example

Ink and Pa in Bad Buddy

Yiwaa, Mark and Nuea in Love Mechanics

Fake first year

We call them phi nian(พี่เนียน). Nian, in this context, means stealthy, blending in. It's quite a popular activity for other years and always gets many volunteers. The job is to pretend to be a first year in the beginning, when everyone just started meeting face-to-face, for First Meet, for example. The main aim is to help ensure that first-year students get along, make friends, and that overall activities can run smoothly.

Orientation

Most of the time, the university will host a large orientation for all new students once a year, and the faculty will have a sub-orientation for students in their own faculty in addition. The purpose is to welcome, Rap Khwan, and provide important information students must know.

Freshy Night

A party that starts at night. The activities vary, each university is different. Usually, there will be a Dao and Deun contest and a concert performed by actual professional artists.

Uniform

Most Thai universities, as seen in the series, have a uniform. However, whether we have to use it every day or not, and how strictly we have to dress according to the code, depends on the university and the faculty. But there are times when a uniform that follows the code to the tee is a must for everyone everywhere too. like, orientation and examination.

Wai Khru ceremony

I've already mentioned this ceremony a bit if you read the previous chapter. Usually the ceremony takes place on Thursday. For the Wai Kru in school like this, what we will do is chant, sing, and give flowers, incense sticks, candles, and Pan (พาน-a tray with a pedestal) that students help prepare to the teachers. Participation is voluntary. This is the only difference from elementary, middle schools, and high school, where participation is semi-compulsory. Other than this point, the rest of the ceremony is the same.

English exam

Many universities will require their students to pass an English exam (Their own exams or a certain score on widely accepted ones like TOEFL or IELTS.) before they can graduate, regardless of what their major is. So, if a person is given the opportunity to attend a university, it is reasonable to assume that they understand English to some extent, at the least.

*As you can see, the majority of the things I mentioned are activities for the first year, so many of them will happen around the same time and they can get kind of fused together. **The participation of most of the activities is voluntary, but peer pressure is a thing, so....

Index

#thai culture

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hnunes749 · 1 year

Text

. The first, in front of the mirror.

It was the June of a hot, Greek summer, that of 1991. An era when male smoking was widely celebrated. And the possibility of smoking restrictions was unthinkable.

It was also the time when I was reaching the early tinglings of adolescence. I had just finished the 6 years of Primary School and in September that year I would be joining Junior High School in our small town, where both Junior and Senior High were sharing the same schoolyard. Next week I'd be turning 12. Everybody, my dad's friends, extended family, was exclaiming "how much you have grown!"

I was a "good boy". Quiet, book-lover and a comic books fan. I lived with my father in a home he owned, in a nice small neighborhood of lower-class houses up against the base of a small, mediterranean, dry mountain that hovered upon our small town.

My father was the most beloved person in the world for me. I had no mother. I was the fruit of a teenage love. My dad and my biological mother, his girlfriend, didn't use precautions when they fully enjoyed their love, so the young couple was awarded with a pregnancy when they were both 15. As anyone can imagine, that couldn't be easy. My mother believed she loved my dad and he himself felt the same for her. He wowed he would marry her and they would raise the child no matter what. My grandpa and grandma (who also had their twin boys, my father Yiannis and my uncle, Manos, at a very early age) supported the young couple's decision. They gave them all the money they had in the bank, and continued supporting them financially, in any way they could. My uncle Manos, who already had experience working in house construction, along with his employer and some of his co-workers, helped my father and they built together a new, small but absolutely decent house for the new family.

When I was born, my mother was overwhelmed by the realization that now she was a mother and wife for life. She just ran away forever.

My uncle moved in with my dad and helped in raising me. He would get me to school and back and take care of me and everything else, while my father was working overtime. Unclue Manos was like a second father to me. Now, are you really wondering whether they smoked or not? Of course they did. And, God, did they smoke good! But I'll come back to that.

In the school-free days of the summer months I'd go for hikes up the mountain alone, or play street football with other kids from the neighborhood. When my father would come back from work around 2pm, we'd have our meal together, talking about our day. And then it would be "afternoon quiet time", with a couple of hours of sleep for my dad and comic-book reading for me.

In that specific day, things were somewhat different. At least in my mind.

***

Last evening, a pleasant summer evening, when I was sitting at the porch outside my room reading my comics, dad and uncle Manos were chilling out with beers and smokes on the porch at the other side of the house, in front of my dad's bedroom. I was never eavesdropping. They were always discussing work, or some random drama involving some friend of theirs, etc.

But that evening, I heard something. While they were talking in a very low voice, suddenly my uncle Manos said: "And what if he started smoking already?" Then my dad replied: "Wouldn't be a first, I started at his age and a little bit earlier..." and then they talkied in a very low voice again, laughed some, and then went to my dad's room, where they often went to discuss business.

But that phrase really stuck and echoed in my head. "I started at his age".

Shit, yeah, teen smoking was not uncommon at all. I already had seen highschoolers buying packs of smokes before school, smoking behind a row of trees and bushes in the schoolyard, or when cutting class and enjoy a coffee in a cafeteria near the school, or when playing billiards and video games at the arcade. Yeah, I had noticed them. Especially those who would show off blowing chains of smokerings. It was something exciting to look at, but I didn't really know what I felt. After all, it was 1991, and internet was yet to happen. So, yeah, I didn't know a thing about urges, or when they show up, or how they feel like. Most of the other kids didn't also. Just said some swear words,that started to feel funnier and funnier at that age, but noone knew why or what they actually meant.

So, that phrase, "I started at his age", with the deep, smokey voice of my dad, stuck in my mind. And my mind tried to picture it. And i felt that funny feeling down there.

***

The next day, something unexpected happened. I woke up very early, as my dad was drinking his morning coffee, sitting at the kitchen table and smoking his first 4-5 cigs before going off to work. From where my bed was, I could see him right through the half-open door of my room. Oh, yeah, I could see him. A muscled, 28 years old man, with a light yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans shorts. Taking slowly and deeply each drag of smoke from his cig, by hollowing his cheeks. Then pulling the cig just a bit in front of his mouth. Then making those perfect snap inhales he did, or - interchangeably - his perfect french inhales, with a creamy stream of white smoke rising up from his lips and entering his nostrils, until all the smoke from his mouth was inhaled. A little hold. And then a slow, very satisfied exhale, with a thick blue stream in the morning sunlight. And then, finishing off the exhale with a quick jaw snap, blowing a smokering; two smokerings; three, four, five, six, seven, eight... Eight. Eight perfect, stable smokerings that would travel over to the other side of the room.

My cock was hard. No, really, I mean. For the first time. Like, it couldn't go "un-hard". I was laying in bed on my chest. I was really surprised and scared. I had felt some quirky movements before, but never had I been really hard again. I put my hand and felt it. Dad was still smoking and I was still sneak-watching him. I didn't really know what to do with my hard penis. It just felt so good. It was a completely new sensation. Then my dad finished his smoke, got up and left to go to work.

I remained at bed puzzled and scared and excited, all together. Then I remembered from the night before: "I started at his age".

Fuck. Could I smoke?

I fell asleep again.

***

- Wake up, sleepyhead!

Uncle Manos was awake and had made breakfast. I could smell eggs, coffee and his smoke.

- School is over, uncle!

I liked sleeping, yeah, have to admit that.

- Yeah, yeah, get up and have your omelette, little man, 'cause I gotta go in a few minutes. Dimitris (that was my closest friend) came by and asked for you already.

Ah, ok, going to play with my friend was something worth getting up for. I went to the bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror and suddenly my father's voice replayed in my head: "I started at his age". I didn't think a lot about it, though, playing was the most important thing at that moment. So I washed my face, put some gel on my hair and raised them, and went and ate my breakfast.

Uncle Manos was having his coffee and smokes as I ate breakfast. He sat across from me, blowing his smoke to the other side of the room. In the same exact way my dad did. That was something I noticed for the first time. Yeah, in the exact same way. And, my cock got hard again in the exact same way. Holy shit! I looked down, panicked, and tried to concentrate on my omelette. Yeah, it worked. I finished eating and got up quickly, kissed my uncle goodbye, and went out to play. Until afternoon, when dad came back from work. I kissed him, I waved bye to my friend, Dimitris, and we went home with my dad to eat the pizza he brought. And then it was the "afternoon quiet time", mandatory in the long summer days.

***

But, during that hot, summer afternoon, I could not stay quiet. I would hear the phrase "I started at his age" ringing in the absolute quiet of early afternoon. I went to my room, took a comic book and pretended reading on my bed. But I was really just watching dad smoke. That smoking that looked so good on him. That smoking that made me so hard. And I remembered, at the same time, all the cool smoking guys from the arcade, or the café...

Dad finished his post-meal smoke, got up and went to his bedroom for the afternoon power nap.

It was my chance.

I quietly rose up. I was wearing just my briefs. I went to the kitchen table. There it was. The opened carton of Marlboros (my dad's), as well as his open pack with his lighter, another opened carton of Camels (my uncle's) and a couple of sealed packs of Camel Unfiltereds, as well as an open pack of them. I took a Marlboro from my dad's open pack. I didn't want to take the lighter also, in case he would get up and see it missing. So I took, very quietly, another lighter from the kitchen drawer that was full of them. I went to the living room, which, during summer, was pretty unused, as we watched TV on my dad's bedroom porch, outside.

In the living room, we had a full-body mirror, right by the main door. I stopped and held my breath. Ok, dad was snoring. the coast was clear.

I stood in front of the mirror. I looked at me, semi-naked, in my briefs. Holding a cigarette in my hand. I put it properly, as I knew, between the index and middle finger of my right hand. I just held it and posed. My cock was hard again. I could see it pushing my briefs like a tent. I put the cigarette between my lips. Yeah, little cock got harder. I pushed down the front of my briefs, and tucked it under my balls. Fuck, my cock got even harder (how much can this thhing grow?). I pulled some air through the cigarette into moy mouth and that was a revelation! Didn't expect the dry tobacco to taste as nice as it smelled. Oh, holy fucking God, my cock was not only hard, it was throbbing!

All the times I had seen my dad and uncle light up in a myriad of different styles and ways, came to my mind. My cock was throbbing, my heart was racing. I brought the lighter close to my cigarette. Holy Virgin, my cock was now leaking drops of some clear, sticky liquid, that was coming out of the little hole on its head. That was new also, but what wasn't? So I flick the lighter. I see the flame. I watch it. I bring it to the tip of the Marlboro. I take a small drag. I take the cigarette out from my lips. I see that whole move in the mirror. I smile and open my lips a little, and let the smoke slowly out. I smile to myself with satisfaction. And then I feel the taste of the cigarette smoke in my mouth. Holy fucking god! Yeah, no shit! That's why guys smoke!

Little I knew of what was to come.

I smiled at myself at the mirror. Yeah, hot enough. Cock out throbbing, burning cig in hand. Liked what I saw. But I wanted the real thing, and I knew I hadn't tasted it yet. So, I brought once again the filter to my lips, closed them around it with a smile and a wink to my horny self in the mirror, and took another drag. Filled my mouth, took the cig out, kept the smoke for a couple of seconds, felt it burning a little in my tongue, and then opened my mouth and inhaled. J. Fucking C.! I even did a small snap, accidentally. And then, I just looked up and let my breath, full of smoke, out, slowly, as a river of pleasure drifting up from me, or, better, like the smoke from the fire of hotness that was lit in me.

I was overwhelmed from the total pleasure that arose from my first properly inhaled drag. I couldn't believe it. "So, THIS is really why men smoke", I thought to myself. Took another drag, more confident. held it deeper. Looked at me in the mirror and blew my smoke to it, in a narrow column that was flooding the glass. Then another, exhaling slow to the side of my mouth. then felt a little "dizzy", but in a very pleasant way. Shit, would the smoking experience always produce some now pleasure? Each drag, inhale and exhale was sending raging throbs to my steel-hard cock that was dripping already.

And while I was taking another drag on my first cigarette, it happened.

I felt a warmth filling me up. And then, an uncontrolled spasm, starting from my cock and making my feet wobbly. And something like peeing. But oh, holy fuck.

I had no idea what was happening. But I was just shooting my very first load, because of my very first cigarette.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit" I thought to myself. I took a last, satisfied look at the smoker with the semi-hard, cum-dripping cock at the mirror. I took my last drag from my first Marlboro and crushed it into the nearby ashtray.

I pulled my briefs up again, and went quetly to my room.

I laid down to my bed feeling almost exhausted.

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kahran042 · 11 months

Text

About one of my newest projects

Title: Jonas Corbin’s Guide to Life

Jonas Corbin’s sophomore year of high school is getting off to a good start - he’s been assigned the locker next to his childhood friend and long-time crush Kiera Bernhardt in the same year that Kiera’s rather intimidating older brother has gone off to college, giving him the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings. However, will he be able to talk to Kiera without choking? And why is their mutual friend Chloe suddenly being so harsh towards him? Tells the story of Jonas’ sophomore, junior, and senior years at Foxwood High School in New Hampshire.

Other things:

Lots of esoteric references, mostly to anime and JRPGs.

Some degree of fourth-wall awareness, but not to ridiculous levels.

Teen characters are treated with respect.

Despite being named after a specific character, has an ensemble cast. Jonas is the narrator, though.

Everyone is ****ed-up to some degree, just like in real life.

At the same time, no one is purely good or bad. Again, just like in real life.

Some supernatural elements, although most, if not all, of them would be Maybe Magic, Maybe Mundane.

Musical numbers, not necessarily in every episode, but a decent number.

Starts out fairly lighthearted and gradually becomes darker throughout, possibly even with some deaths, but never loses its humorous side and ends on a hopeful note.

No one is beyond redemption, but not everyone accepts it.

————————————————————————————————————————————

TV TROPES THAT APPLY TO THE SETTING AND CHARACTERS

Jonas Corbin:

Brilliant, but Lazy

Captain Oblivious: Oblivious to both Chloe's and Mia's feelings for him. However, it's slightly implied that he may be faking it to avoid breaking the heart of one of his best friends or his other best friend's little sister.

Character Narrator

Childhood Friend Romance: With Kiera - they've known each other since they were kids, and he's had romantic feelings for her since they were in seventh grade.

Clueless Chick Magnet: Especially in the later seasons.

Deadpan Snarker

Determinator: Despite his lazy tendencies, he can be surprisingly persistent if there’s something he really wants.

First-Person Smartass

Friendly Enemy: He has this kind of relationship with Principal Mazlish.

Fun Size: The shortest boy in the core six, and a pretty fun guy.

Guile Hero

Hidden Depths: He's a gifted writer, and is implied to become a professional novelist in the future.

High School Hustler

Inferiority Superiority Complex: His Small Name, Big Ego tendencies are implied to be a way of coping with his insecurities.

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Kindhearted Cat Lover: He may not be especially kindhearted, but he does dote on his cat Leo.

Not a Morning Person

Obfuscating Stupidity

Obliviously Beautiful: A rare male example, especially later in the series.

Occidental Otaku: Although it’s never made clear whether he has a genuine interest in anime or just joined the anime club to be close to Kiera and became the mask.

Oral Fixation: He's often seen chewing gum, with ginger being his favorite flavor. It's implied that he does it as a way of coping with anxiety.

Rebellious Spirit

Sad Clown: Has a lot of insecurities, mostly related to his parents’ divorce, which he covers up with his class-clown persona.

Second-Year Protagonist

Small Name, Big Ego: Can be pretty boastful and cocky sometimes.

The Leader

The Slacker: At least before he starts trying to improve himself.

Brad Thompson:

Academic Athlete

Deadpan Snarker

Farm Boy

Gentle Giant: The tallest of the core six, and also one of the nicer ones.

Lovable Jock

Only Sane Man: Sometimes shares this role with Nate and Kiera.

Shout-Out: His favorite chicken is named Catherine as a reference to Robotrek and Terranigma.

The Lancer

The Reliable One

Why Did It Have to Be Spiders?

Chloe Seaver:

Bifauxnen

Bifauxnen and Lad-ette: Bifauxnen to her rival and eventual girlfriend Mia’s Lad-ette.

Big Eater

Boyish Short Hair

Brilliant, but Lazy: Although she's not as lazy as Jonas, she still doesn't apply herself in school despite having intelligence at least on par with her Academic Athlete brother Mark.

Bruiser with a Soft Center

Competition Freak

Cross Player: Plays a male dwarf barbarian in the RPG Episode.

Cute Bruiser

Deadpan Snarker

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Lovable Jock

Occidental Otaku

Passionate Sports Girl

Pets as a Present: She was given her pet hedgehog Frodo as a fourteenth birthday present.

Pint-Sized Powerhouse: The shortest and arguably the strongest of the core six.

Shorttank

Super Drowning Skills: Despite being incredibly fit and athletic, she can't swim.

Sweet Tooth

The Big Guy

The Napoleon: Physically the smallest of the core six, but also the most aggressive.

The Rival: She is the rival of Mia for Jonas' attention, at least initially.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to both Kiera's and Alicia's girly girls.

Tomboy with a Girly Streak: Although she is very much a tomboy, she also took flower-arranging classes at one point and actually enjoyed them.

Tsundere: Towards Jonas.

Kiera Bernhardt:

Academic Athlete

All Girls Want Bad Boys: She's attracted to Connor Urquhart during the first two seasons, although it's somewhat downplayed by the fact that she's not drawn to him because he's a bad boy, but because she can see a glimmer of goodness within him.

Big Brother Attraction: Notice all the tropes that her brother Adrian and her crush Connor have in common. This is not a coincidence.

Bookworm: Although not to the degree of her brother, she does enjoy reading, especially the works of Tamora Pierce.

Brainy Brunette

Camera Fiend: While she isn't as passionate about photography as Courtney, she does still have an interest in it, and she and Courtney eventually bond over their shared interest.

Childhood Friend Romance: With Jonas.

Class Princess

Deadpan Snarker: Not as much as some other characters, but she does have her moments.

Dude Magnet

Even The Girls Want Her: Morgan is attracted to her.

Gentlewoman Snarker: She comes from a wealthy family, and can snark with the best of them.

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: Generally very feminine, but is also a passionate lacrosse player and skier.

Heavy Sleeper

Kindhearted Cat Lover: Her family has three cats, and she loves them all, especially the youngest, Lilith.

Ms. Vice Girl: Arguably the nicest of the core six, but takes great pride in her good looks and athletic accomplishments.

My Nayme Is: Her name is spelled Kiera, not the more-common Keira or Kira. Getting it wrong is one of the few ways to get her mad.

Occidental Otaku

Only Sane Woman: Shares this role with Nate and occasionally Brad.

Passionate Sports Girl

Proud Beauty

Silk Hiding Steel

Spoiled Sweet

Team Mom

The Heart

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Zig-zagged. She's the girly girl to Chloe's tomboy, and the tomboy to Alicia's girly girl.

Trademark Favorite Food: Buffalo wings.

Unaffected by Spice: A downplayed example, but she loves spicy food, especially buffalo wings.

Uptown Girl: Coming from a wealthier family, she counts as this for Jonas.

Why Did It Have to Be Snakes?: She's afraid of heights due to taking a nasty fall while climbing trees with Jonas when they were eight years old.

Nate Kellerman:

Adorkable

Bespectacled Cutie: A rare male example.

Bookworm: The most well-read of the core six.

Brainy Brunet

Character Tics: Ties his hair back when he's thinking hard.

Deadpan Snarker

Genius Sweet Tooth

Hidden Depths: Despite his generally cowardly nature, he loves horror movies.

Jewish and Nerdy

Lovable Coward

Neat Freak

Nice Jewish Boy

Only Sane Man: Shares this role with Kiera and sometimes Brad.

Proud to Be a Geek

Smart People Wear Glasses: Wears glasses, and is the smartest of the core six.

Teen Genius

The Smart Guy

“Well Done, Son” Guy

Alicia Ramsey:

Animal Lover

Apologizes a Lot

Cloudcuckoolander: Has her moments of this.

Covert Pervert

Cute Clumsy Girl

D-Cup Distress: She hates having large breasts, both because of the attention they attract and because she had to give up on her dream of becoming a professional gymnast because of them.

Daddy’s Girl

Expy: Pretty much a human version of Fluttershy.

Genius Ditz: Despite her Cloudcuckoolander tendencies, she knows a lot about animals and nature in general, and is a talented pianist and budding composer - self-taught, to boot!

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: The most feminine of the core six, but is also an Outdoorsy Gal with an interest in insects.

Granola Girl

Hiding Behind Your Bangs

Huge Schoolgirl

Missing Mom: Her mother died when she was three.

Obliviously Beautiful

Outdoorsy Gal: A rare girly-girl example.

Shrinking Violet

Signature Instrument: A self-taught pianist, but prefers the electric keyboard.

Sixth Ranger: Although she joins the group in the first episode, she still qualifies.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to both Chloe and Kiera's tomboys.

Mark Seaver:

Academic Athlete

Aloof Ally: Not the friendliest person, but is willing to help out when needed.

Ambiguously Bi: Easily the biggest womanizer in the cast, but he and his best friend Connor are depicted as closer than most best friends usually are.

Big Brother Bully

Big Brother Instinct: Despite his Big Brother Bully tendencies, he is fiercely protective of his younger siblings and would do anything for them.

Big Brother Mentor: Sometimes fulfills this role to the core six, especially Chloe since he actually is her big brother.

Big Eater

Bully Turned Buddy / Friendly Enemy: To the core six.

Chivalrous Pervert

Embarrassing Middle Name: His middle name is Read, which makes his initials M.R.S., or Mrs. Fortunately for him, the only ones to know it are his younger siblings and his best friend Connor.

Hidden Depths: He loves tabletop RPGs, especially Wayfarer.

Incompatible Orientation: Has a crush on Lesbian Jock Lauren Reinholt.

Jerk Jock with a Heart of Gold

Occidental Otaku: Although he doesn’t like to admit it.

Real Men Wear Pink: Generally very masculine, but has a taste for shoujo anime.

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Manly man to Connor's sensitive guy.

Signature Instrument: Drums.

Connor Urquhart:

Aloof Big Brother: At his best.

Big Brother Bully: At his worst… although see Cruel to Be Kind, below.

Animal Motifs: Crows. He dresses in black, is both clever and creepy, and has managed to befriend a local murder of crows by feeding them.

Berserk Button: Do not call him Connie.

Big Brother Instinct: In his words, “If anyone other than me were to **** with Morgan, I would have no choice but to murder them.”

Cold Ham

Cruel to Be Kind: Part of why he pushes Morgan away is to protect her from his incestuous desires.

Dark Is Not Evil: Despite his Gothic appearance and grim nature, he is, at his very worst, a Jerkass with a Hidden Heart of Gold.

Deadpan Snarker

Embarrassing Nickname: See Berserk Button, above.

Goth

Hidden Depths: Poetry editor for the school’s literary magazine.

Iconic Item: His black trench coat.

Icy Blue Eyes

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Lean and Mean

Long-Haired Pretty Boy

Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy: Feminine boy to Morgan’s masculine girl.

Must Have Caffeine: His favorite drink is black coffee, which he can't wake up without.

Nonconformist Dyed Hair: A natural blond who dyes his hair black with cobalt blue streaks to match his Goth aesthetic.

Not a Morning Person

Perpetual Frowner

Pet the Dog: Once walked an injured Courtney to the nurse's office for reasons unclear even to him.

Pyromaniac: Slightly implied in the first holiday special, in which he’s shown smiling serenely as he stares into a fire.

Reformed, but Not Tamed: After his suicide attempt, he starts showing his heart of gold a bit more, but retains his gloomy, snarky attitude.

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Sensitive guy to Mark's manly man… if you can really call him "sensitive," that is.

Shout-Out: With a dash of Expy. He’s named after and very loosely based on Connor Murphy from Dear Evan Hansen.

Signature Instrument: Bass guitar.

Significant Birth Date: Born on Walpurgisnacht, referencing his rather morbid attitude.

Sitcom Archnemesis: At least, that's how Chloe sees him. Connor is fully aware that she doesn't like him, but just doesn't care… or at least, that's what he claims.

Sugar-and-Ice Personality: A lot more ice than sugar, with his warmer side showing itself mostly around Mark, Christi, and sometimes Morgan.

The Cynic

The Snark Knight

The Stoner: Much like his namesake.

Troubled Teen

Used to Be a Sweet Kid

Morgan Urquhart:

Afraid of Clowns

Beware the Nice Ones / Bully Hunter: See Little Sister Instinct, below.

Flower Motifs: Roses. Her middle name is Rose, which also happens to be her favorite flower.

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: Generally a straight-up girly-girl, but is also the starting goalie on the girls' JV lacrosse team.

Iconic Item: Her Celtic knot necklace, a gift from Connor on her thirteenth birthday.

Incompatible Orientation: Has a crush on her heterosexual best friend Sarah Reinholt.

Jerkass to One: Connor. Justified in that he's usually a jerkass to her first.

Lipstick Lesbian: Although technically, she’s a bisexual homoromantic.

Little Sister Instinct: Was once suspended for giving Nick Murphy a swift kick in the babymakers because he was harassing her brother.

Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy: Masculine girl to Connor’s feminine boy.

Once Done, Never Forgotten: Kicking Nick in the balls.

Signature Instrument: Clarinet.

Straight Gay

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to her best friend Sarah's girly girl, and girly girl to her eventual girlfriend Lydia's tomboy.

Trademark Favorite Food: Peaches.

Sarah Reinholt:

Closet Key: She's the first girl Morgan was ever attracted to. Unfortunately, she's straight.

Drama Queen: Has her moments of this.

Hair of Gold, Heart of Gold: She has blonde hair and is one of the nicer and more innocent characters in the series.

Kindhearted Cat Lover: Loves cats, especially her own cat Pekoe.

Large Ham: She can be this sometimes, especially during her Drama Queen moments.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to both her best friend Morgan and her sister Lauren's tomboys.

Lauren Reinholt:

Lesbian Jock

Occidental Otaku

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to her sister Sarah's girly girl.

Tomboy with a Girly Streak

Jessica Beaumont:

Lovable Alpha Bitch

Middle Child Syndrome: She’s the middle child of three siblings, which is why she seeks attention through cheerleading.

Stuck in Their Shadow: Sometimes feels this way, considering that her older brother is an Ivy League scholar and her younger sister is a borderline juvenile delinquent.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to her sister Jadyn's tomboy.

Thom Anderson:

Berserk Button: Do not call him Thomas or Tommy.

Disappointing Older Sibling: At least, that’s how his sister Courtney sees him when compared to their handsome and athletic stepbrother Kyle.

Embarrassing Nickname: Inverted. He insists on going by Thom rather than his full name, Thomas.

Hates Their Parent: His biological father, for walking out on the family eleven years ago.

My Nayme Is: He's very insistent on his name being spelled with a silent H.

Occidental Otaku

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Sensitive guy to Kyle's manly man.

Kyle Levy:

Academic Athlete

Big Little Brother: He's two months younger and an inch taller than his stepbrother Thom.

Hidden Heart of Gold: It takes his friendship with Courtney, and eventually Thom, to bring it out, but he does have one.

Jerk Jock

Long-Haired Pretty Boy

One Head Taller: He's a little over six feet tall, whereas his girlfriend Nina is 5'7".

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Manly man to Thom's sensitive guy.

The Ace

Troubled Teen

Courtney Anderson:

Big Brother Attraction: Or, more accurately, Big Stepbrother Attraction.

Camera Fiend: Has a passion for photography, which eventually leads to her forming a close bond with Kiera. Of note is the fact that Courtney uses film while Kiera is primarily digital.

Lascivious Beauty Mark: Has a beauty mark under her right eye, and is probably the most flirtatious character in the series.

Replacement Goldfish: Kyle sees her as a substitute for his deceased biological sister Kendra.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to her best friend Jadyn's tomboy.

Nick Murphy:

Dumb Jock

Jerk Jock

Malicious Misnaming: Almost always calls Jonas "Jon-ass".

Morality Pet: Despite his general Jerkass tendencies, he is protective of his brother Jared and his cousin Caitlyn.

The Bully

Jared Murphy:

Book Dumb: While he's smarter than his brother, he still doesn't do well academically.

Hair-Trigger Temper

Hidden Depths: Has a taste for musical theater and is a member of the drama club.

Jerk Jock

Large Ham: As a hot-headed theatre kid, it’s pretty much a given.

Morality Pet: Like Nick, he’s very protective of his cousin Caitlyn.

Signature Instrument: Electric guitar.

The Bully

Zane Kessler:

Big Brother Instinct: Despite his general aloofness towards his little sister Jasmine, he's still protective of her.

Big Ego, Hidden Depths: Despite his Small Name, Big Ego tendencies, he does have a genuine passion for anime, which is why he was appointed club president in the first place.

Occidental Otaku: President and co-founder of Foxwood High's anime club.

Small Name, Big Ego: He can be pretty full of himself at times, considering that he's just the president of a high-school anime club.

Jasmine Kessler:

Berserk Button: Ginger jokes.

Embarrassing Nickname: Jazz. The only ones allowed to call her that are her older brother Zane and her best friend Mia.

Fiery Redhead

Genki Girl

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: A very feminine girl who also plays on the school's JV basketball team.

Quirky Curls

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to her best friend Mia's tomboy.

Nina Chapman:

Ambiguously Brown

Beta Bitch

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: While she's very much a Girly Girl, she also takes a shop class.

Odd Name Out: The only member of Jessica's Girl Posse not named after a fictional cheerleader.

The Starscream: Despite being Jessica's best friend, she secretly wants to usurp her position as Alpha Bitch.

Ashley Cournane:

Hidden Depths: A member of the Gay-Straight Alliance.

Pom-Pom Girl: The most enthusiastic member of the cheer squad.

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Girly girl to her best friend Christi's tomboy.

Malcolm Stone:

Academic Athlete

Bald Head of Toughness: Although if you ask him, it's a shaved head of toughness.

Genius Bruiser

Gentle Giant

The Stoic

Mia Thompson:

Abhorrent Admirer: Although she's better-looking than most examples of this trope, Jonas is still repelled by her unpleasant personality.

Bifauxnen and Lad-ette: Lad-ette to her rival and eventual girlfriend Chloe’s Bifauxnen.

Bi-Wildered: Her reaction when she realizes she's attracted to Chloe… although it's never made clear whether it's more of a reaction to being attracted to girls in general, or to Chloe in particular.

Farm Girl

Hidden Heart of Gold

Jerkass

Kiddy Coveralls: She's older than most examples, but she is a tomboyish farm girl who usually wears overalls.

Stalker with a Crush: On Jonas.

The Gadfly: Towards pretty much everyone, but especially likes provoking Jonas and Brad.

The Rival: To Chloe.

Tomboy

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to her best friend Jasmine's girly girl.

Wasted Beauty: Acknowledged as very attractive, but it's marred by her Jerkass tendencies.

Lydia Renfrew:

Brilliant, but Lazy

Cool Big Sis: To Shea. Eventually becomes a Cool Big Stepsister to Jonas after her father marries his mother.

Lovable Jock

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to her eventual girlfriend Morgan's girly girl.

Trademark Favorite Food: Spaghetti.

Unkempt Beauty

Katrina Rockwell:

Hidden Depths: Enjoys baking.

I Have Brothers: Her tomboyish nature probably stems from having three brothers, one older and two younger.

"L" Is for "Dyslexia": She's implied, and later confirmed, to be dyslexic.

Lovable Jock

Passionate Sports Girl

Resentful Outnumbered Sibling: Doesn't like being the only girl in her family.

Tomboy with a Girly Streak

Tomboyish Ponytail

Peter Gardner:

Academic Athlete

Big Brother Instinct

Hidden Depths: Plays cello in the school band.

Jerk Jock with a Heart of Gold

Signature Instrument: Cello, as mentioned above.

Colin Gardner:

Hidden Depths: While he's not as smart as his brother, he is a skilled chess player, able to hold his own against Academic Athlete Aisha Cummings.

Incompatible Orientation: Has a crush on Morgan Urquhart, who is mostly lesbian.

Lovable Jock

Middle Child Syndrome

Jadyn Beaumont:

Expy: Originally envisioned as an older, female Bart Simpson who's the youngest of three siblings instead of the oldest.

Iconic Item: Her knit cap.

Stuck in Their Shadow: Part of why she acts out is because she feels overshadowed by her older siblings.

Tagalong Kid: Younger than the rest of Mark's gang, who she only hangs out with because she idolizes Lauren Reinholt.

The Prankster

The Slacker: A rare female example.

Tomboy

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to both her best friend Courtney and her sister Jessica.

Josh Reilly:

Mad Libs Catchphrase: "Chicks dig [physical/personality trait or occupation]."

School Newspaper Newshound

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Manly Man to Robbie's Sensitive Guy.

Robbie Wolfe:

Ambiguously Gay: Implied to be attracted to his best friend Josh.

Lonely Rich Kid

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Sensitive Guy to Josh's Manly Man.

Drake Levine:

Academic Athlete

Aloof Big Brother: He's something like this to his sister Shana, who loves him anyway.

Big Man on Campus

Extracurricular Enthusiast

KidAnova: A teenaged version.

Lovable Jock

Sexy Sax Man

Signature Instrument: Saxophone.

The Ace: Smart, good-looking, athletic, and a damn good sax player.

Christi Wong:

Deadpan Snarker

Freaky Fashion, Mild Mind

Nonconformist Dyed Hair: She has a purple streak in her bangs.

Perky Goth

Signature Instrument: Electric guitar.

The Anti-Nihilist

Tomboy and Girly Girl: Tomboy to her best friend Ashley's girly girl.

Aisha Cummings:

Academic Athlete: Good at both basketball and chess.

Caitlyn Larouche:

Disappeared Dad: Her father was lost at sea two years before the events of the series.

Shana Levine:

Attention Whore: Due to her older brother's status as The Ace, she'll do almost anything for people to notice that she exists.

Stuck in Their Shadow: She feels overshadowed by her brother Drake, which is the main cause of her Attention Whore tendencies.

Successful Sibling Syndrome: She generally feels inferior to her older brother Drake, who she sees as good at everything.

Lisa Wong:

Bespectacled Cutie

Big Sister Attraction

Shrinking Violet

Signature Instrument: Violin.

Dan Therrian:

Extraverted Nerd

Hidden Depths: Takes karate lessons, and is pretty good at it, too.

Keet

Martial Pacifist

Older Than They Look: He's a high-school student, but has been mistaken for a middle-school student at least once.

Rachel Fox:

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: The most feminine member of Katrina's group, but is also the starting small foward on the girls' basketball team.

Informed Judaism: Nate mentions knowing her from temple at one point, but it doesn't really come up much.

The Fashionista

Logan Taggart:

Brilliant, but Lazy

Cuteness Proximity: As hard as he tries to maintain his cool façade, he will absolutely melt at the sight of cute animals, especially cats and ferrets.

Defrosting Ice King

Hair-Trigger Temper

Kindhearted Cat Lover: Not quite as "kindhearted" as other examples of this trope, but he does like cats.

Long-Haired Pretty Boy

Occidental Otaku

Perma-Stubble

Successful Sibling Syndrome: He feels inadequate when compared to his younger siblings, who are generally better than him academically and socially.

The Cynic

The Hedonist

The Paranoiac

The Quiet One

Judd Taggart:

Freaky Fashion, Mild Mind

Nonconformist Dyed Hair: Dyes his hair blue.

Hannah Brooks:

Berserk Button: Infidelity in relationships, due to her parents getting divorced when she was young for this reason. This is why she eventually dumps Mark.

Cool Big Sis: Despite her hatred of her stepmother and mixed feelings toward her father, she still loves her younger half-siblings Preston and Renee.

Former Friend of Alpha Bitch: She and Jessica were best friends until Jessica moved to the other side of town and they started to grow apart.

Lovable Jock

Passionate Sports Girl

Tomboy with a Girly Streak: Generally very tomboyish, but has pink hair tips. Pink is also her favorite color.

Maddie Burke:

Academic Athlete: An excellent student, and is also on the tennis and alpine skiing teams.

Bookworm

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak

Smart People Wear Glasses: Although she only wears them when reading.

—

Donna Corbin:

Absurdly Youthful Mother

Amazingly Embarrassing Parents

Cloudcuckoolander

Genius Ditz: Despite her scatterbrained Cloudcuckoolander nature, she is still a competent beautician.

The Ditz: To the point where Jonas at one point openly wonders how she got custody of him.

Richard Corbin:

Monica Corbin:

Good Stepmother

One-Note Chef: Generally a Cordon Bleugh Chef, but can make surprisingly good pancakes.

Samantha Corbin:

Annoying Younger Sibling: To Jonas.

Bitch in Sheep's Clothing: Acts sweet and innocent around most people, but is actually a selfish, manipulative brat. Her half-brother Jonas and her regular babysitter Kiera are the only ones who know her true nature.

Bizarre Taste in Food: Implied to be genetic, since her mother is a Cordon Bleugh Chef.

Bratty Half-Pint

Dirty Kid: She has her moments of this.

Genki Girl: Say what you will about her, there's no denying that she has a lot of energy.

Girlish Pigtails

Hidden Heart of Gold

Jerkass

Spoiled Brat

Troubling Unchildlike Behavior: When she was three, she stabbed Jonas in the arm with a fork.

John Seaver:

Valerie Seaver:

Justin Seaver:

Annoying Younger Sibling

Expy: Of Jason Fox.

Insufferable Genius

Stephen Bernhardt:

Abusive Parents: Although he’s not as bad as his wife, he almost never speaks out against her abusive behavior and treats his children like Ungrateful Bastards if they disagree with him.

Pet the Dog: Gave Adrian a used car for his 17th birthday and helped him fix it and upgrade it into a sleeper car.

Self-Made Man: As he’ll often remind his children during his lectures.

Deborah Bernhardt:

Abusive Parents: Treats Adrian as a Trophy Child while verbally and emotionally abusing him and Kiera if they disagree with her, even over trivial things.

Adrian Bernhardt:

Badass Bookworm

Big Brother Instinct: Fiercely protective of his little sister Kiera.

Broken Ace

Deadpan Snarker

Death Glare: The so-called “Adrian Stare”.

Does Not Like Spam: Radishes.

Genius Bruiser: A computer wizard who also happens to be a skilled judoka.

Hates Their Parent: Specifically, his mother Deborah, for verbally and emotionally abusing him and Kiera and treating him as a Trophy Child.

Heavy Sleeper

Iconic Item: His blue bandana.

Icy Gray Eyes

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Morality Pet: Kiera and Karin.

Not a Morning Person

Occidental Otaku

Perpetual Frowner

Real Men Wear Pink: Very much a Manly Man, but has long hair, takes pride in his androgynous good looks, and took ballet lessons as a kid.

Reformed Bully

Spoiled Sweet: For a given value of “sweet”, anyway.

Stoic Woobie

Sugar-and-Ice Personality

The Cynic

Trophy Child

Unkempt Beauty

Used to Be a Sweet Kid

What a Piece of Junk: His prized Subaru Legacy sleeper car, Alcyone.

Jacob Kellerman:

Esther Kellerman:

Jewish Mother

Zach Kellerman:

Lovable Jock

Edward Ramsey:

Kindly Vet

Robert Urquhart:

Kathleen Urquhart:

Michael Levy:

Good Stepfather

Marissa Anderson:

Good Stepmother

Hospital Hottie: A registered nurse, and very attractive.

Zoe Chapman:

Ambiguously Brown

Extracurricular Enthusiast

Shea Renfrew:

Expy: An older version of Shingo Tsukino.

Seth Rockwell:

Evan Rockwell:

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Manly Man to Tyler's Sensitive Guy.

Tyler Rockwell:

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Sensitive Guy to Evan's Manly Man.

Emily Gardner:

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: A very feminine girl who takes ballet lessons, but is also the striker on the middle school soccer team.

—

Karin Michaux:

Bifauxnen

Cool Big Sis: To Kiera.

Delicate and Sickly

Girly Girl with a Tomboy Streak: See Hidden Depths, below.

Granola Girl: Allthough unlike most examples, she isn't a strict vegetarian - she doesn't eat red meat because she doesn't like the taste or texture, but she has been seen eating fish and poultry on occasion.

Hidden Depths: Despite her generally gentle and nurturing nature, she’s also a skilled fencer.

Kindhearted Cat Lover: Has a pet Manx cat named Lady Avalon who she loves to bits, and an affinity for cats in general.

Missing Mom: Her mother died six years before the events of the series.

Occidental Otaku: In particular, she and Zane co-founded the Foxwood High anime club.

Older Than They Look: In college, but has been mistaken for a high school student at least once.

Photographic Memory

Victorious Childhood Friend: To Adrian.

—

A Lighter Shade of Black: Mark and especially Connor are both Jerkasses, but they're nowhere near as bad as Nick and Jared.

Alliterative Family: The Beaumont siblings are named Joel, Jessica, and Jadyn.

Kyle Levy's deceased mother and sister were named Kellene and Kendra, respectively, although it's averted with his father Michael.

Amicable Exes: Jonas’ parents, at least to a degree.

Animesque

Beta Couple: Brad and Caitlyn become this for Jonas and Kiera.

Birds of a Feather: Brad and Caitlyn turn out to be this.

Birthday Buddies: Courtney Anderson and Jadyn Beaumont, both born on May 19.

Bisexual Love Triangle: Connor Urquhart has a crush on fellow Goth Christi Wong, but is also strongly implied to be mutually attracted to his best friend Mark Seaver.

Blonde, Brunette, Redhead: Chloe, Kiera, and Alicia, respectively.

The cheerleaders Jessica, Nina, and Ashley also qualify.

Boke and Tsukkomi Routine: Jonas and Brad sometimes fall into this dynamic.

Bonding Over Dislikes: Logan and Christi first bonded over their shared dislike of "Relena Piece-of-Crap".

Mark and Connor first met at a ski lodge, where they bonded over a shared dislike of skiing.

Cracks In The Icy Facade: Connor is introduced as a cold, aloof Jerkass, but in an early episode, he helps an injured Courtney to the nurse's office and makes sure she's all right.

Dramedy

Dysfunctional Family: The Bernhardts, and really most families in this series in their own ways.

Ensemble Cast: Despite being named after Jonas, the core six (Jonas, Brad, Chloe, Kiera, Nate, and Alicia) all get roughly equal focus, and other characters also sometimes get A Day in the Limelight.

Feminine Mother, Tomboyish Daughter: Valerie and Chloe Seaver.

Five-Bad Band: Mark’s gang, initially. Can also be a Five-Man Band in episodes focusing on them.

The Big Bad: Mark Seaver (although he is, at worst, Affably Evil)

The Dragon: Nick Murphy

The Brute: Jared Murphy (of the Genius Bruiser type)

The Evil Genius: Connor Urquhart

Token Good Teammate: Lauren Reinholt

Kid-of-Heel Character: Jadyn Beaumont

Five-Man Band:

The Leader: Jonas Corbin

The Lancer: Brad Thompson

The Big Guy: Chloe Seaver (ironically, the shortest in the group)

The Smart Guy: Nate Kellerman

The Heart: Kiera Bernhardt

Sixth Ranger: Alicia Ramsey

Flirty Stepsiblings: Kyle Levy and Courtney Anderson, although most of the flirtation comes from Courtney.

Foolish Sibling, Responsible Sibling: Lydia and Shea Renfrew, respectively.

Gender-Equal Ensemble: The core six is composed of three boys (Jonas, Brad, and Nate) and three girls (Chloe, Kiera, and Alicia).

Headbutt of Love: Lydia does this to Morgan this a few times after they start dating.

Heel-Face Turn: After his failed suicide attempt and subsequent coma in season 2, Connor turns over a new leaf and goes from a gloomy, cynical Jerkass to a gloomy, cynical Jerk with a Heart of Gold.

I Call It "Vera": Adrian calls his car "Alcyone". It should be noticed that everyone in-universe thinks this is a terrible name… even Kiera, who normally worships the ground her big brother walks on.

Incest Subtext: Connor is implied, and eventually confirmed, to be attracted to his younger sister Morgan. This is part of why he hates himself, and why he's so cruel to her.

On the subject of Connor, Kiera has a crush on him because he gives off the same "vibes" as her brother. Take that as you will.

Intergenerational Friendship: Jonas forms one with Mr. Starovski, and Principal Mazlish to a lesser extent.

Jock Dad, Nerd Son: Jacob and Nate Kellerman.

Monster Brother, Cutie Sister: Connor and Morgan, and Adrian and Kiera to a lesser extent. It's worth noting that unlike most examples of this trope, Connor and Adrian are both very handsome.

Nice, Mean, and In-Between: For the boys, Nice Jewish Boy Nate Kellerman (nice), egotistical, mischievous Deadpan Snarker Jonas Corbin (mean), and Gentle Giant Lovable Jock Brad Thompson, who still isn't afraid to tell it like it is (in-between). For the girls, kind-hearted Animal Lover Alicia Ramsey (nice), Jerk with a Heart of Gold Chloe Seaver (mean), and gentle, but sometimes snarky, Team Mom Kiera Bernhardt (in-between).

The Anderson-Levy siblings also qualify, with sensitive literary-magazine editor Thom being the Nice, Jerk Jock Kyle being the Mean, and Courtney, who sometimes acts as a mediator between her older brothers and sometimes plays them against each other to watch the fireworks, being the In-Between.

Noodle Incident: Something that happened to the core six (minus Alicia) in eighth-grade science lab, which they have vowed never to talk about.

Not So Above It All: Although they're usually the voices of reason, Nate and especially Kiera both have their moments of this.

Odd Friendship: Jerk Jock with a Heart of Gold Mark Seaver and effeminate Goth boy Connor Urquhart.

One Degree of Separation: Most of the characters are linked to each other in a complex web of relationships.

Practically Different Generations: Jonas is ten years older than his half-sister Samantha, and Hannah Brooks is thirteen years older than her half-sister Renee.

Production Nickname: The Bernhardt siblings each have one. Kiera is "The Brocon Lacrosse Girl," due to her brother complex and passion for lacrosse, and Adrian is "The Anti-Fraggle" because he's tall, grim, and hates radishes, unlike the small, jolly, radish-loving Fraggles.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: Jared and Nick Murphy, respectively, with Mark Seaver as their Purple Oni.

Mark is also the Blue Oni to his sister Chloe's Red Oni, and the Red Oni to his best friend Connor's Blue Oni.

Logan is the Red Oni to most people, but the Blue Oni to his Genki Girl sister Saige.

Riddle for the Ages: How did someone as childish and irresponsible as Donna get primary custody of her son?

Why does Thom insist on spelling his name with a silent H?

Rivalry as Courtship: Chloe and Mia start out as athletic and romantic rivals, but eventually resolve it and become a couple.

Secret Diary: Connor has one which he keeps hidden in his dresser. However, it's later revealed to be not so secret to Morgan.

Shout-Out: A long-haired, drug-addicted alt guy named Connor, who has a bad reputation, a strained relationship with his sister, and a penchant for black nail polish… sound familiar?

Adrian's car has a "My Other Car Is A Gundam" frame around its license plate.

Because she doesn’t like the name Dandelion, Lauren secretly calls her family’s pet Pomeranian “Toby”.

Word of God has stated that Nate's Character Tic of tying his hair back when he's thinking is a reference to Violet's similar tic in A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Jessica Beaumont and Ashley Cournane are both named after fictional cheerleaders - Jessica Wakefield and Ashley Hammond, respectively.

Sickeningly Sweethearts: Michael Levy and Marissa Anderson.

Six-Student Clique:

The Head: Jonas Corbin

The Muscle: Brad Thompson

The Quirk: Nate Kellerman

The Pretty One: Alicia Ramsey

The Smart One: Kiera Bernhardt

The Wild One: Chloe Seaver

Slice of Life

Sliding Scale of Idealism Versus Cynicism: Falls somewhere in the middle, leaning slightly toward idealism.

The Glorious War of Sisterly Rivalry: Between Nina Chapman (The Smart One) and her older sister Zoe (The Popular One).

Theme Naming: The Urquhart siblings both have Celtic names that can be used as first or last names.

Those Two Guys: Josh Reilly and Robbie Wolfe.

¡Three Amigos!: Jonas, Brad, and Chloe, although somewhat disrupted by Chloe’s attraction to Jonas.

Town Girls: Chloe (butch), Kiera (neither), and Alicia (femme).

True Companions: The core six.

Vitriolic Best Buds: Jonas and Brad, and Kiera and Chloe to a lesser extent.

Wacky Parent, Serious Child: Donna and Jonas form a rare mixed-gender example.

White-and-Grey Morality: Jonas' relationship with Principal Mazlish applies, with the former being straight-up chaotic good and the latter being, at worst, lawful neutral.

World of Snark

Some tropes I want to include:

A Day in the Limelight

Amateur Film-Making Plot

“Anger Is Healthy” Aesop

Aw, Look! They Really Do Love Each Other

Both Sides Have a Point

Brick Joke

Call-Back

Chain of Deals

Continuity Porn

Couch Gag

Did They or Didn't They?

Dumbass Has a Point / Jerkass Has a Point

Enemy Mine

Enmity with an Object

Evolving Credits

Fade to White: How the series ends, signifying Jonas' "ascent" into the world after high school.

Fair Play Whodunit: Maybe a spotlight episode for Josh and Robbie.

Ferris Wheel Date Moment: At first I wasn't sure this would work with Kiera's fear of heights, but I found out from the trope page that it's actually common for the girl to be acrophobic, so… ^_^

Flippant Forgiveness

Friendly Enemy / Reformed, but Not Tamed: This would eventually apply to the Murphy brothers.

Funny Background Event

Hard Truth Aesop: Abusive parents are still complex humans like everyone else.

Intergenerational Friendship

Joke and Receive

Leitmotif

Magic Realism

Maybe Magic, Maybe Mundane

Mundane Made Awesome

Musical Episode: Also A Day in the Limelight episode for Mark and Connor, in which they form a band with Jared (lead guitar), Morgan (vocals), Alicia (keyboard), and maybe Christi (rhythm guitar).

Not So Above It All

Out-of-Character Alert

Parents as People

"Rashomon"-Style

RPG Episode

Saved by the Awesome

Shown Their Work

Something Only They Would Say

Spoof Aesop

Stealth Pun

Strange Minds Think Alike

Stylistic Suck

The Greatest Story Never Told

Thinks of Something Smart, Says Something Stupid

Unusual Euphemism

Vignette Episode

"What Do They Fear?" Episode: For Brad's arachnophobia, Kiera's acrophobia, Mark's claustrophobia, Connor's gephyrophobia, and/or Morgan's coulrophobia.

What You Are in the Dark

“Where Are They Now?” Epilogue

Whole Plot Reference

You All Share My Story

Tropes to avert:

A Weighty Aesop: And in the unlikely event that I were to do an episode with one, it would emphasize moderation rather than abstinence.

Anvilicious: Any and all morals should be as subtle as the B in the word "subtle," except for spoof morals.

Character Shilling

Diet Episode: See A Weighty Aesop, above.

Girls vs. Boys Plot

Hate Sink

Kids Shouldn’t Watch Horror Films

Limited Wardrobe

New Technology Is Evil

Pair the Spares

Real Men Have Short Hair: As a direct Take That! aimed at this trope, Jonas' hair gets slightly longer with each season as he matures, although the two factors are otherwise unrelated, and it's never mentioned in-universe.

Shipper on Deck

Social Media Is Bad

Strangled by the Red String

Teens Are Monsters

The Friend Nobody Likes

Where the Hell Is Springfield?: Foxwood is located somewhere in the Seacoast region of New Hampshire.

————————————————————————————————————————————

ANIME-PLANET TAGS

Jonas CORBIN

Male, Blonde Hair

Tags: Big Ego, Bisexual, Charismatic, High School Student, Lazy, LGBT+, Mischievous, Otaku, Teenager, Video Gamer

Brad THOMPSON

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Football Player, Freckles, High School Student, Teenager

Chloe SEAVER

Female, White Hair

Tags: Athlete, Big Eater, Big Ego, High School Student, Hot-Headed, Mischievous, Otaku, Small Stature, Soccer Player, Sweet Tooth, Teenager, Tomboy, Track and Fielder, Tsundere

Kiera BERNHARDT

Female, Black Hair

Tags: Artist, Athlete, Braids, Brother Complex, Cook, High School Student, Otaku, School Idol, Sleepyhead, Teenager, Video Gamer, Wealthy

Nate KELLERMAN

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Analytical, Bookworm, Glasses, High School Student, Ponytail, Shy, Sweet Tooth, Teenager, Video Gamer, Wealthy

Alicia RAMSEY

Female, Red Hair

Tags: Animal Lover, Blinding Bangs, Clumsy, Dandere, High School Student, Musician, Pervert, Pianist, Shy, Teenager

Mark SEAVER

Male, Blonde Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Big Eater, Big Ego, Bully, Drummer, Flirt, High School Student, Musician, Otaku, Soccer Player, Team Captain, Teenager

Connor URQUHART

Male, Multicolored Hair

Tags: Animal Lover, Bassist, Bisexual, Choker, High School Student, Kuudere, LGBT+, Musician, Piercings, Sister Complex, Smoker, Teenager, Wealthy

Morgan URQUHART

Female, Orange Hair

Tags: Athlete, Band Member, High School Student, Lesbian, LGBT+, Musician, Singer, Teenager, Video Gamer, Wealthy

Sarah REINHOLT

Female, Blonde Hair

Tags: Band Member, Dancer, High School Student, Singer, Teenager, Wealthy

Lauren REINHOLT

Female, White Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Hair Antenna, Hair Buns, High School Student, Lesbian, LGBT+, Otaku, Teenager, Wealthy

Jessica BEAUMONT

Female, Blonde Hair

Tags: Big Ego, Cheerleader, High School Student, Ponytail, Teenager

Thom ANDERSON

Male, Blonde Hair

Tags: Bookworm, Editor, Glasses, High School Student, Otaku, Teenager, Video Gamer, Wealthy

Kyle LEVY

Male, Black Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, High School Student, Ponytail, Soccer Player, Teenager, Wealthy

Courtney ANDERSON

Female, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Flirt, Gymnast, High School Student, Mischievous, Mole, Photographer, Ponytail, Teenager, Wealthy

Nick MURPHY

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, Bully, Buzz Cut, Facial Hair, Football Player, High School Student, Teenager

Jared MURPHY

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, Bully, Facial Hair, Guitarist, High School Student, Hot-Headed, Musician, Teenager

Zane KESSLER

Male, Blonde Hair

Tags: Club President, Facial Hair, High School Student, Otaku, Teenager, Video Gamer

Jasmine KESSLER

Female, Red Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, Eternal Optimist, Freckles, High School Student, Teenager, Video Gamer

Nina CHAPMAN

Female, Black Hair

Tags: Braids, Cheerleader, Dark-skinned, High School Student, Teenager

Ashley COURNANE

Female, Red Hair

Tags: Bisexual, Cheerleader, High School Student, LGBT+, Teenager

Malcolm STONE

Male, None Hair

Tags: Abnormally Tall, Athlete, Bald, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Dark-skinned, Football Player, High School Student, Stoic, Team Captain, Teenager

Mia THOMPSON

Female, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Braids, Freckles, High School Student, Soccer Player, Stalker, Teenager, Tomboy

Lydia RENFREW

Female, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Bisexual, High School Student, LGBT+, Teenager

Katrina ROCKWELL

Female, Blonde Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Cook, High School Student, Ponytail, Soccer Player, Student Council, Teenager, Tomboy

Peter GARDNER

Male, Black Hair

Tags: Athlete, Band Member, Baseball Player, Cellist, Football Player, High School Student, Hot-Headed, Musician, Teenager

Colin GARDNER

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, Board Game Player, High School Student, Soccer Player, Teenager

Jadyn BEAUMONT

Female, Blonde Hair

Tags: Hat, High School Student, Lazy, Mischievous, Teenager, Tomboy

Josh REILLY

Male, Black Hair

Tags: Afro, Dark-skinned, Flirt, High School Student, Teenager

Robbie WOLFE

Male, Blonde Hair

Tags: Athlete, High School Student, Teenager, Track and Fielder, Wealthy

Drake LEVINE

Male, Multicolored Hair

Tags: Athlete, Band Member, Basketball Player, Big Ego, Football Player, High School Student, Musician, Sickly, Team Captain, Teenager, Track and Fielder

Christi WONG

Female, Multicolored Hair

Tags: Artist, Band Member, Fujoshi, Guitarist, High School Student, Piercings, Singer, Teenager

Aisha CUMMINGS

Female, Black Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, Board Game Player, Braids, Dark-skinned, High School Student, Teenager

Caitlyn LAROUCHE Female, Red Hair

Tags: Athlete, High School Student, Ponytail, Team Captain, Teenager

Shana LEVINE

Female, Brown Hair

Tags: Cheerleader, High School Student, Teenager

Lisa WONG

Female, Black Hair

Tags: Bisexual, Glasses, High School Student, LGBT+, Musician, Shy, Sister Complex, Teenager, Violinist

Dan THERRIAN

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Bowl Cut, Eternal Optimist, Glasses, High School Student, Martial Artist, Small Stature, Teenager

Rachel FOX

Female, Brown Hair

Tags: Athlete, Basketball Player, Dancer, Flirt, High School Student, Teenager

Logan TAGGART

Male, Black Hair

Tags: Animal Lover, Artist, Bisexual, Bookworm, Facial Hair, Fudanshi, Glasses, High School Student, Hot-Headed, Lazy, LGBT+, Otaku, Shy, Teenager, Video Gamer

Judd TAGGART

Male, Blue Hair

Tags: Athlete, Anti-Gravity Hair, Bassist, High School Student, Musician, Teenager, Track and Fielder

Hannah BROOKS

Female, Multicolored Hair

Tags: Athlete, Baseball Player, Basketball Player, High School Student, Teenager, Tomboy

Maddie BURKE Female, Orange Hair

Tags: Athlete, Bookworm, Glasses, Tennis Player

Adrian BERNHARDT

Male, Brown Hair

Tags: Analytical, Bisexual, Bookworm, Headband, Kuudere, LGBT+, Martial Artist, Otaku, Piercings, Sleepyhead, Teenager, University Student, Video Gamer, Wealthy

Karin MICHAUX

Female, Multicolored Hair

Tags: Animal Lover, Artist, Bifauxnen, Bisexual, Fujoshi, LGBT+, Otaku, Photographic Memory, Piercings, Sickly, Sword Fighter, Tattoo, Teenager, University Student, Video Gamer, Wealthy

General tags: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Bullying, Comedy, Coming of Age, Dark Comedy, Divorce, Drama, Dysfunctional Families, Emotional Abuse, LGBT Themes, Love Triangle, Mature Themes, Original Work, Romance, School Life, Seinen, Slice of Life, Tsundere

————————————————————————————————————————————

CHARACTER RELATIONS

JONAS CORBIN

Best friend of Brad Thompson.

Friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Kiera Bernhardt.

Friend of Nate Kellerman.

Friend of Mark Seaver.

Neighbor of Mark Seaver.

Neighbor of Chloe Seaver.

Neighbor of Justin Seaver.

Neighbor of Logan Taggart.

Neighbor of Judd Taggart.

Neighbor of Saige Taggart.

Neighbor of Alana Taggart.

Son of Richard Corbin.

Son of Donna Corbin.

Stepson of Monica Corbin.

Older half-brother of Samantha Corbin.

Crush on Kiera Bernhardt.

BRAD THOMPSON

Best friend of Jonas Corbin.

Friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Nate Kellerman.

Friend of Drake Levine.

Son of Brian Thompson.

Son of Dorothy Thompson.

Older brother of Mia Thompson.

Crush on Caitlyn Larouche.

Rival of Drake Levine.

CHLOE SEAVER

Best friend of Kiera Bernhardt.

Friend of Jonas Corbin.

Friend of Brad Thompson.

Friend of Alicia Ramsey.

Friend of Morgan Urquhart.

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Daughter of John Seaver.

Daughter of Valerie Seaver.

Younger sister of Mark Seaver.

Older sister of Justin Seaver.

Crush on Jonas Corbin.

Rival of Mia Thompson.

KIERA BERNHARDT

Best friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Alicia Ramsey.

Friend of Jonas Corbin.

Friend of Lydia Renfrew.

Family friend of Robbie Wolfe.

Daughter of Stephen Bernhardt.

Daughter of Deborah Bernhardt.

Younger sister of Adrian Bernhardt.

Niece of Naomi Farrell.

Honorary younger sister of Karin Michaux.

Crush on Connor Urquhart.

NATE KELLERMAN

Friend of Jonas Corbin.

Friend of Brad Thompson.

Friend of Alicia Ramsey.

Son of Jacob Kellerman.

Son of Esther Kellerman.

Older brother of Zach Kellerman.

Crush on Chloe Seaver.

ALICIA RAMSEY

Friend of Kiera Bernhardt.

Friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Nate Kellerman.

Daughter of Edward Ramsey.

Crush on Nate Kellerman.

MARK SEAVER

Best friend of Connor Urquhart.

Friend of Lauren Reinholt.

Friend of Jessica Beaumont.

Friend of Malcolm Stone.

Friend of Jonas Corbin.

Friend of Judd Taggart.

Frenemy of Nick Murphy.

Frenemy of Jared Murphy.

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Son of John Seaver.

Son of Valerie Seaver.

Older brother of Chloe Seaver.

Older brother of Justin Seaver.

Crush on Lauren Reinholt.

Possible boyfriend of Connor Urquhart?

CONNOR URQUHART

Best friend of Mark Seaver.

Son of Robert Urquhart.

Son of Kathleen Urquhart.,

Older brother of Morgan Urquhart.

Crush on Christi Wong.

Possible boyfriend of Mark Seaver?

MORGAN URQUHART

Best friend of Sarah Reinholt.

Friend of Lauren Reinholt.

Friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Lydia Renfrew.

Friend of Logan Taggart.

Daughter of Robert Urquhart.

Daughter of Kathleen Urquhart.

Younger sister of Connor Urquhart.

Crush on Sarah Reinholt.

SARAH REINHOLT

Best friend of Morgan Urquhart.

Friend of Logan Taggart.

Daughter of Andrew Reinholt.

Daughter of Allie Reinholt.

Younger sister of Lauren Reinholt.

Girlfriend of Zane Kessler.

LAUREN REINHOLT

Friend of Morgan Urquhart.

Friend of Jessica Beaumont.

Friend of Mark Seaver.

Friend of Logan Taggart.

Friend of Hannah Brooks.

Daughter of Andrew Reinholt.

Daughter of Allie Reinholt.

Older sister of Sarah Reinholt.

JESSICA BEAUMONT

Best friend of Nina Chapman.

Friend of Lauren Reinholt.

Friend of Ashley Cournane.

Friend of Mark Seaver.

Former best friend of Hannah Brooks.

Daughter of Paul Beaumont.

Daughter of Susan Beaumont.

Younger sister of Joel Beaumont.

Older sister of Jadyn Beaumont.

Crush on Mark Seaver.

THOM ANDERSON

Son of Thomas Anderson, Sr.

Son of Marissa Anderson.

Stepson of Michael Levy.

Older brother of Courtney Anderson.

Older stepbrother of Kyle Levy.

KYLE LEVY

Friend of Ashley Cournane.

Son of Michael Levy.

Stepson of Marissa Anderson.

Younger stepbrother of Thom Anderson.

Older stepbrother of Courtney Anderson.

Boyfriend of Nina Chapman.

COURTNEY ANDERSON

Best friend of Jadyn Beaumont.

Daughter of Thomas Anderson, Sr.

Daughter of Marissa Anderson.

Stepdaughter of Michael Levy.

Younger sister of Thom Anderson.

Younger stepsister of Kyle Levy.

Crush on Kyle Levy.

NICK MURPHY

Best friend of Jared Murphy.

Frenemy of Mark Seaver.

Son of David Murphy.

Son of Heidi Murphy.

Older brother of Jared Murphy.

Nephew of Nancy Larouche.

Cousin of Caitlyn Larouche.

JARED MURPHY

Best friend of Nick Murphy.

Frenemy of Mark Seaver.

Son of David Murphy.

Son of Heidi Murphy.

Younger brother of Nick Murphy.

Nephew of Nancy Larouche.

Cousin of Caitlyn Larouche.

ZANE KESSLER

Friend of Peter Gardner.

Friend of Colin Gardner.

Son of George Kessler.

Son of Cynthia Kessler.

Older brother of Jasmine Kessler.

Boyfriend of Sarah Reinholt.

JASMINE KESSLER

Best friend of Mia Thompson.

Daughter of George Kessler.

Daughter of Cynthia Kessler.

Younger sister of Zane Kessler.

NINA CHAPMAN

Best friend of Jessica Beaumont.

Friend of Ashley Cournane.

Daughter of Everett Chapman.

Daughter of Mary Chapman.

Younger sister of Zoe Chapman.

Girlfriend of Kyle Levy.

ASHLEY COURNANE

Best friend of Christi Wong.

Friend of Jessica Beaumont.

Friend of Nina Chapman.

Friend of Kyle Levy.

Daughter of Christopher Cournane.

Daughter of Cheryl Cournane.

MALCOLM STONE

Friend of Mark Seaver.

Son of Maxwell Stone.

Son of Tessa Stone.

MIA THOMPSON

Best friend of Jasmine Kessler.

Daughter of Brian Thompson.

Daughter of Dorothy Thompson.

Younger sister of Brad Thompson.

Crush on Jonas Corbin.

Rival of Chloe Seaver.

LYDIA RENFREW

Friend of Morgan Urquhart.

Friend of Kiera Bernhardt.

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Friend of Aisha Cummings.

Daughter of Landon Renfrew II.

Daughter of Melissa Renfrew.

Older sister of Shea Renfrew.

KATRINA ROCKWELL

Friend of Chloe Seaver.

Friend of Lydia Renfrew.

Friend of Aisha Cummings.

Friend of Rachel Fox.

Friend of Hannah Brooks.

Friend of Maddie Burke.

Daughter of Philip Rockwell.

Daughter of Marilyn Rockwell.

Younger sister of Seth Rockwell.

Older sister of Evan Rockwell.

Older sister of Tyler Rockwell.

Girlfriend of Peter Gardner.

PETER GARDNER

Friend of Zane Kessler.

Son of Ted Gardner.

Son of Sharon Gardner.

Older brother of Colin Gardner.

Older brother of Emily Gardner.

Boyfriend of Katrina Rockwell.

COLIN GARDNER

Friend of Zane Kessler.

Friend of Aisha Cummings.

Son of Ted Gardner.

Son of Sharon Gardner.

Younger brother of Peter Gardner.

Older brother of Emily Gardner.

Crush on Morgan Urquhart.

JADYN BEAUMONT

Best friend of Courtney Anderson.

Daughter of Paul Beaumont.

Daughter of Susan Beaumont.

Younger sister of Joel Beaumont.

Younger sister of Jessica Beaumont.

Girlfriend of Judd Taggart.

JOSH REILLY

Best friend of Robbie Wolfe.

Son of Benjamin Reilly.

Son of Olivia Reilly.

ROBBIE WOLFE

Best friend of Josh Reilly.

Family friend of Kiera Bernhardt.

Son of Mick Wolfe.

Son of Alice Wolfe.

DRAKE LEVINE

Friend of Brad Thompson.

Son of Roger Levine.

Son of Carol Levine.

Older brother of Shana Levine.

Rival of Brad Thompson.

CHRISTI WONG

Best friend of Ashley Cournane.

Friend of Logan Taggart.

Daughter of Sonny Wong.

Daughter of Evelyn Wong.

Older sister of Lisa Wong.

AISHA CUMMINGS

Friend of Lydia Renfrew.

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Friend of Colin Gardner.

Friend of Rachel Fox.

Friend of Maddie Burke.

Daughter of Randolph Cummings, Sr.

Daughter of Yvonne Cummings.

Older sister of Vanessa Cummings.

Older sister of Randy Cummings.

SHANA LEVINE

Friend of Caitlyn Larouche.

Friend of Lisa Wong.

Daughter of Roger Levine.

Daughter of Carol Levine.

Younger sister of Drake Levine.

CAITLYN LAROUCHE

Best friend of Lisa Wong.

Friend of Shana Levine.

Daughter of Nancy Larouche.

Niece of Heidi Murphy.

Niece of David Murphy.

Cousin of Nick Murphy.

Cousin of Jared Murphy.

LISA WONG

Best friend of Caitlyn Larouche.

Friend of Shana Levine.

Daughter of Sonny Wong.

Daughter of Evelyn Wong.

Younger sister of Christi Wong.

Crush on Christi Wong

RACHEL FOX

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Friend of Aisha Cummings.

Friend of Maddie Burke.

Daughter of Michael Fox.

Daughter of Jennifer Fox.

Younger sister of Dana Fox.

LOGAN TAGGART

Friend of Morgan Urquhart.

Friend of Sarah Reinholt.

Friend of Lauren Reinholt.

Friend of Christi Wong.

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Son of Charles Taggart.

Son of Maureen Taggart.

Older brother of Judd Taggart.

Older brother of Saige Taggart.

Older brother of Alana Taggart.

JUDD TAGGART

Friend of Mark Seaver.

Boyfriend of Jadyn Beaumont.

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Son of Charles Taggart.

Son of Maureen Taggart.

Younger brother of Logan Taggart.

Older brother of Saige Taggart.

Older brother of Alana Taggart.

HANNAH BROOKS

Friend of Lauren Reinholt.

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Former best friend of Jessica Beaumont.

MADDIE BURKE

Friend of Katrina Rockwell.

Friend of Aisha Cummings.

Friend of Rachel Fox.

SAMANTHA CORBIN

Daughter of Richard Corbin.

Daughter of Monica Corbin.

Younger half-sister of Jonas Corbin.

JUSTIN SEAVER

Best friend of Zach Kellerman.

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Son of John Seaver.

Son of Valerie Seaver.

Younger brother of Mark Seaver.

Younger brother of Chloe Seaver.

ADRIAN BERNHARDT

Son of Stephen Bernhardt.

Son of Deborah Bernhardt.

Older brother of Kiera Bernhardt.

Nephew of Naomi Farrell.

Boyfriend of Karin Michaux.

Roommate of Tristan Markham.

ZACH KELLERMAN

Best friend of Justin Seaver.

Son of Jacob Kellerman.

Son of Esther Kellerman.

Younger brother of Nate Kellerman.

JOEL BEAUMONT

Son of Paul Beaumont.

Son of Susan Beaumont.

Older brother of Jessica Beaumont.

Older brother of Jadyn Beaumont.

ZOE CHAPMAN

Daughter of Everett Chapman.

Daughter of Mary Chapman.

Older sister of Nina Chapman.

Roommate of Autumn Caldwell.

SHEA RENFREW

Friend of Evan Rockwell.

Friend of Tyler Rockwell.

Friend of Emily Gardner.

Son of Landon Renfrew II.

Son of Melissa Renfrew.

Younger brother of Lydia Renfrew.

SETH ROCKWELL

Son of Philip Rockwell.

Son of Marilyn Rockwell.

Older brother of Katrina Rockwell.

Older brother of Evan Rockwell.

Older brother of Tyler Rockwell.

EVAN ROCKWELL

Friend of Shea Renfrew.

Son of Philip Rockwell.

Son of Marilyn Rockwell.

Younger brother of Seth Rockwell.

Younger brother of Katrina Rockwell.

Older twin brother of Tyler Rockwell.

TYLER ROCKWELL

Friend of Shea Renfrew.

Son of Philip Rockwell.

Son of Marilyn Rockwell.

Younger brother of Seth Rockwell.

Younger brother of Katrina Rockwell.

Younger twin brother of Evan Rockwell.

EMILY GARDNER

Friend of Shea Renfrew.

Daughter of Ted Gardner.

Daughter of Sharon Gardner.

Younger sister of Peter Gardner.

Younger sister of Colin Gardner.

VANESSA CUMMINGS

Daughter of Randolph Cummings, Sr.

Daughter of Yvonne Cummings.

Younger sister of Aisha Cummings.

Older sister of Randy Cummings.

RANDY CUMMINGS

Son of Randolph Cummings, Sr.

Son of Yvonne Cummings.

Younger brother of Aisha Cummings.

Younger brother of Vanessa Cummings.

SAIGE TAGGART

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Daughter of Charles Taggart.

Daughter of Maureen Taggart.

Younger sister of Logan Taggart.

Younger sister of Judd Taggart.

Older sister of Alana Taggart.

ALANA TAGGART

Neighbor of Jonas Corbin.

Daughter of Charles Taggart.

Daughter of Maureen Taggart.

Younger sister of Logan Taggart.

Younger sister of Judd Taggart.

Younger sister of Saige Taggart.

KARIN MICHAUX

Daughter of Alexander Michaux.

Younger sister of Natalie Michaux.

Honorary older sister of Kiera Bernhardt.

Girlfriend of Adrian Bernhardt.

Roommate of Michelle Harper.

Roommate of Alison Torres.

#ocs #jonas corbin's guide to life #my projects #long post #really long post #don't press the keep reading unless you have time to spare #my ocs

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jops08 · 3 days

Text

Blog Post #9: Education

1. Originally the Philippines had one of the shortest education systems in the world, which consisted of 6 years of primary school and 4 years of high school. This system would soon be changed in 2012 when the education system in the Philippines would be modeled from other countries around the world but it is like that of the United States adopting the k-12 system. The 13-year education system is free but also mandatory by law to attend. The three levels of education look like primary school k-6, junior high school 7-10, and senior high school 11-12. Even though public school is free most Filipinos try to send their kids to private school due to the better education system. Post secondary is offered in the Philippines but not that many Filipinos go due to the financial burden that comes with it.

2. Typical school days in the Philippines usually start in the morning at 0730 am and ends at 5 pm. Kids in the Philippines usually go to school Monday through Friday; the academic year usually starts in June and ends either in March or April. High school students take 10 subjects every year required from the National Department of Education. All students usually stay in one classroom as teachers walk out after they are done teaching their subject. Students also do not receive immediate feedback on their work or one-on-one consultation. They wait until the end of the semester to review any comments from the teacher.

3. 2 out of 5 high school students do not pursue higher education due to the high tuition fees and the other expenses that they may face while in. In an interesting event though in 2020 according to Philstar global that only 13% of Filipinos finished college while only 9% of kids in the Philippines finished elementary. This may be due to that only 21% of Filipinos have obtained a high school diploma which may result the low post secondary numbers. Of the college graduates 25.6% were female and 21.3% were males. The Philippines education system has been on a two-decade crusade to improve these numbers and as of 2020 these have been the best numbers the Philippines have seen.

4. Like I stated earlier that the Philippines have a strict Interary when it comes to their education system with electives not really being a thing in the education system. The Philippines is a lot like that of the US where mathematics like algebra, calculus, and trigonometry are taught then history courses like the nation's history, Asian history, and world history. Lastly, the basic courses of science and literature to round out the curriculum. I believe that these topics being taught in the Philippines are that of the US. They are learning about their culture and history but also looking into other different perspectives of other cultures around the world. I would compare the two and would say that comapritvely that both education systems are remarkably similar when it comes to their curriculum.

Refeerences

Chi, C. (2023, July 10). Record number of high school graduates achieved in the Philippines after two decades - PSA data. Philstar.com. https://www.philstar.com/headlines/2023/07/05/2278876/record-number-high-school-graduates-achieved-philippines-after-two-decades-psa-data#:~:text=Meanwhile%2C%20tertiary%20studies%20have%20become,elementary%20graduates%20in%20the%20country.

Education system in the Philippines. Philippines Education System. (n.d.). https://www.scholaro.com/db/Countries/Philippines/Education-System

Granada, A. (2021, April 21). Education system in the Philippines: A complete guide. Kabayan Remit. https://kabayanremit.com/blog/lifestyle/education-system-philippines/

Philippines. (n.d.). https://online.yfuusa.org/media/yes_lounge/Philippines.pdf

0 notes

derrick-riches · 3 months

Text

Two Degrees of Steven Spielberg

If you look at my sixth-grade class picture, you will find me fourth from the left in the front row. For those of you who don’t know, these group photos start by arranging all the kids by height. The tallest in this picture is in the back, right position. The shortest is in the left front. Yes. In the sixth grade, I was the fourth shortest.

I am currently dead on six feet, or three inches taller than the statistical average for American males. I reached this height seven months before my twentieth birthday. The proverbial late bloomer. However, by the time I got to high school, 10th grade in my school district, I was still struggling to climb up the hill on the left side of the curve. Norman stood tall and confidently on the other side of the bell.

Norman fit every stereotype of the high school jock. Imagine a young Lou Ferrigno. TV’s “Incredible Hulk” had been canceled the year before. Of course, Norman played football. Senior year he led the state in sacks. That year, we won the state championship. Seldom did he carry the ball, but he either cleared or obstructed the path of the ball, depending on who had possession.

To the size and athleticism, add the fact that Norman’s family had money. Lots of money. According to legend, his father had been a mafia accountant now on the lamb in some South American country while his family enjoyed a local McMansion, expensive cars, and a live-in maid.

The jock trope played out completely with Norman. He was far from the sharpest of cheeses. Classwork was not a high priority, and the coaches and administration understood this. But he was also quick to laugh and only engaged in bullying when it was obligatory, i.e., when everyone else in the clique was doing it. For the most part, hazing was below Norman’s station. He was simply too cool to be a full-time bully.

Like most of high school’s ruling class, stories involving Norman boarded on mythic. As I have said, Norman was big. He spent as much time pumping iron as his school, football, and social calendar would allow. And he quite successfully managed to aspire to the hulking TV figure he resembled. It was in regards to Norman’s size that the most widely circulated story hinged. While variations of the story were told among different groups, the gist was that the father of one of the Stacys (or perhaps one of the Stephanies) had barged in on his daughter and Norman. The combination of Norman's size and the young woman's panic had made it impossible for Norman to extricate himself from her. Much embarrassment was reported to have occurred.

I had not attended the same junior high as Norman or most of the football players. I knew very little about them. The first time I saw him, I questioned that he was, in fact, my age. I was small in tenth grade, a little pudge, and a wearer of glasses. That tended to make me the occasional target of bullies. The high school I attended was designed to maximize bullying. Two narrow and necessary hallways afforded the shoving of victims into trash cans. But it was the boy’s locker room that was the perfect hunting ground for bullies. At one end, just beyond the showers, was an unsupervised door that led to a boxed-in hallway. This connected to the outside and to the girl’s gym. The doors were one-way. Once they had closed behind you, you could only return by going outside and around to another entrance.

A popular hazing game was to grab boys out of the locker room and throw them through this door, nude or nearly so. At the right moment, there would be at least half a dozen girls leaving their locker room. The victim would have to exit the building, run down along a popular sidewalk, back into the building, and then into the boy’s gym and locker room. This would facilitate maximum humiliation in front of several screaming and laughing high school girls. It was, as the principal declared, all in good fun.

Bully avoidance is an art of timing. It requires being in neither the wrong place nor at the wrong time. On one particularly snowy day in January, I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps I had forgotten to wind my Timex.

It was Grimes, a hanger on of the football team at the front. Grimes’ shoulders carried the kinds of chips, large and plentiful, that conjured images of parental abuse and tormented home life. Then again, he might just have been an asshole. Either way, he never missed an opportunity to slam me into a bank of lockers when he found me walking the halls. I learned never to give him that opportunity. But when he and most of the football players approached, I knew my number was up.

Grimes and another grabbed me by the arms. I tried to roll out of their grip to no avail. The path to that door was clear. Then, Norman simply said, “Not him.” Everything stopped except my heart. A few seconds or centuries later, I was released. The mob moved on in search of prey they would not find that day. Still trying to squeeze into my shoes, I escaped the locker room.

Never in my life have I uttered a word to Norman, neither before nor since. Once, we had a class together only because there wasn’t a remedial equivalent. I do not know why he uttered those two words. To be honest, I didn’t give it a lot of thought. In the years after, I never stopped to ponder the encounter. Had things not turned out the way they did, I doubt I ever would have spent a moment thinking about those two words and what did or didn’t happen that day. By twelfth grade, my height had reached average. I was a little slimmer, and I took to wearing my glasses only when I wanted to see something. Even Grimes stopped seeing me as a potential victim of his angry soul.

I graduated, as did Norman. I went off to college, as did Norman, though not at the same university. I lived my life seldom thinking about high school. Too many things, good and bad, happened afterward to keep my mind’s attention. If it hadn’t been for a chance encounter with a local newspaper fifteen years later, I might have forgotten him entirely.

Gleaned from news reports, I pieced together something of Norman’s life together. He had gone to UCLA. International studies. The fluffiest of degrees. He turned his sights on acting via modeling. He got glossies and an agent. He auditioned and waited. During this waiting, he seems to have discovered something of himself. He came out. Took jobs tending bars and became something of a regular at LA nightclubs. Perhaps it was the club scene. Perhaps abandonment issues, generated by a father who left when he was six. Perhaps simple insanity.

In the reportage that would emerge, even the LA Times had to point out that Norman was gay and that he had a history of offenses (at least two). There was also a discussion of drug issues and a litany of romantic partners. I supposed that in the pursuit of a complete story, and given the victim, the media needed to vilify Norman in any way, real or not, that they could. Personally, I don’t care to speculate. Some of the stories got wild, dino fetishism being the wildest.

I haven’t seen Norman in nearly forty years. I don’t know him, and I can’t say what drove him to do what he did. As lurid as the story is, every attempt was made to suppress it by the immense power of those involved. Not a conspiracy, per se, but a desire to avoid any association with the negative. The parental abandonment angle led to the discovery that Norman’s father was little more than a two-bit conman who had deprived several elderly persons of their retirement savings and was hiding out in the wilds of New Mexico or some such place.

What is known of Norman is this. He was apprehended by security personnel and the LA police while attempting to scale the gates of Steven Spielberg’s Palisades mansion. Police reported that Norman was in possession of what they called a homemade rape kit. I shudder to think that there is any other kind. They also reported that Norman had apparently been on a cocaine bender for several days and that he stated that he intended to rape the famed director.

That Spielberg and his family had been in Ireland that night during the production of Saving Private Ryan was not known to Norman. It was also not considered a relevant fact by the prosecution, the jury, or the judge. Spielberg would fly home during the trial to testify to the sheer terror that the sight of Norman produced in him.

During the sentencing, the prosecution, bolstered by lawyers for Mr. Spielberg, pushed a potentially controversial third-strike ruling. The judge agreed, and Norman was sentenced to 25 years in a maximum-security penitentiary for violent offenders. Shortly after the sentence began, Norman was transferred to a psychiatric facility. In April of 2023, Norman was again denied parole. His case will be reconsidered no earlier than 2028. At that time, he will have spent nearly thirty years incarcerated.

#bullies #short story #all true #high school #dino fetishism #parole #memories

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waffliesinyoface · 1 year

Text

sometimes im very curious about like. school culture, immediately before and after my time.

there’s a reason i refer to myself and people my specific age as “zillenials”, because while generation gaps are largely stupid, mid-late 2000s to early-mid 2010s are VERY MUCH entirely different beasts, and going through school in that timeframe??

classes went from “we’re using the overhead projector today” to “we replaced the chalkboards with whiteboards so you need to buy expo markers” to “SMART boards are new and fancy and kids really wanted to be the one who got to calibrate it” to “the SMART board is old and outdated, we’re going to use it as a projector while you log in to this website using the school laptops to take the test” to “okay everyone get out your smartphones and go to this link”.

and like. that’s not even getting into all the different types of teaching fads, “no child left behind” shit, different types of standardized tests*, funding changes, teachers who were also struggling with the rapid changes, etc.

*(literally, i had to take a freshman english test in senior year because it was a requirement to graduate, despite the fact it had not existed in my freshman year. it was then. discontinued. like a year later.)

you know how like. a lot of shows set in high school back then had an episode where the students were given a sack of flour and had to pretend to be married and pretend it was their baby. My brother is 5 years older than me, and it was an Actual Thing He Was Expected To Do, as part of home ec. When I went to the exact same high school, home ec class no longer existed.

Back in october last year when i was learning to sew, i asked my mom some questions that she thought were very funny because they were the most basic of basics. When i said a sewing pattern was confusing, she said that even beginner patterns assumed that the person attempting it had taken a sewing class in school. This is the level of disconnect I’m talking about. Things just. stopped? existing?? We saw this in real time with cursive. Like. in elementary school there were several years where it was expected that we learn it, and later years you would get docked points if they weren’t written in cursive with blue or black ink. Cut forward a few years and everything needs to be in print. People at work 3 years my junior cannot even read it, let alone write it. It went from Mandatory & Important to Outdated to We’re Not Teaching That Anymore.

Also back on the topic of sewing, that segues nicely into The Gays.

Im not entirely sure what the culture was like before my time, because of the few older gays i know, they’re either not american or didn’t figure it out until at least college. But like. I know it wasn’t good. I also know that it was a lot more hidden? According to my dad, forever ago the polite way of calling someone gay was “they’re not the marrying type”.

Nowadays from what little i’ve gleaned from social media and occasional screenshots of tiktok, it. Seems better? On the surface? Teens are less prone to giving a shit about other students?? I dont know.

Meanwhile, my experience was like. Gays dont exist. Gays are the Enemy of The American People. Gays are the wacky friend character on TV. Gays exist solely in fiction. Gay people will cause the downfall of society. The very specific type of fujoshi who constantly shipped male characters together but also thought if people were gay in public they deserved to burn in hell. Girls who played sports needed to dress in a very specific way to avoid being labeled as a dyke. Girls cant be gay what are you talking about. There is a school club dedicated to being An Ally™ of Gay People.

IS THERE ANY WONDER. THAT QUEER PEOPLE MY AGE. ARE ALL INSANE. FUCK. not enough of an Other to be stoned to death (unless you were in the deep south, in which case, good fucking luck), but also no longer had the slight protection being invisible offered, and also everyone subtly hates you, and also there were assemblies on how hating you was frowned upon, and also Here Is A Mandatory School Event Where You Must Present As Heterosexual And Within Gender Roles : ), and a AAaaAAAAAAA

it was good because queer shit was showing up more often in more mainstream things and we could point to it and go “now hold on just a minute, why does this appeal to me” but it was bad because if you were too interested or interested in the wrong way, it painted a goddamn target on you. I intentionally attempted to give myself a multiple personality disorder early on in high school because I knew i was trans, but i also knew (from experience) that letting any of that show was inviting people to beat me bloody. (also, i knew enough about trans stuff to know it existed, but not enough to know about HRT. and when i had learned about it it was in the context of “MAYBE you’ll get it if you present passingly as female for a year or two without it : )” horror stories.)

*cough*

anyways. the 2006-2016 or so era was a complete fucking hell and apparently i needed to yell about it a little bit?? I imagine school culture before my time and nowadays have their own unique hells too, but i cannot fathom them because mine was so unlike either.

#put under a readmore because it devolved into a very long rant #gender

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marcusxreyesx · 1 year

Photo

MARCUS REYES ; THE INTRODUCTION

NAME: Marcus Dante Reyes

NICKNAME(S): N/A

AGE: Thirty-Nine

RESIDENTIAL AREA: Primrose Heights

OCCUPATION: Lawyer at Lieberman and Reyes Law

LENGTH OF TIME IN EAST HAVEN: Since December 2022

CONNECTIONS SPREADSHEET & THREAD TRACKER || MUSE TAG || HEADCANONS

basics.

BIRTHDAY: December 31, 1984

PLACE OF BIRTH: Seattle, Washington

GENDER IDENTIFICATION: Cis Male (he/him)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

POSITIVE TRAITS: Charming, Hard-Working, Patient

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Proud, Blunt, Opinionated

family.

MOTHER: Isla Reyes

FATHER: Joshua Reyes

SIBLINGS: None

CHILDREN: None

PETS: None

biography notes.

marcus was born and raised in seattle, washington to isla and joshua reyes. while an only child, he was raised around a lot of cousins that were like siblings to him. they were a very large family despite Isla and Joshua only having one child.

grew up loving debate club in school, it’s where he really thrived, making some of his closest friends. he had always been classroom oriented, though the man wasn’t against playing sports.

he played sports casually with his friends, getting rough and dirty on the weekends with his best friends when they had nothing else to do. well before a time that electronics consumed everyone’s lives and marcus had to rush home before the street lights came on.

he loved school and did really well, graduating high school nearly at the top of his class. his parents had high expectations for him but they were not so tough on him that he could be not at the top of the list as other kids were. they just wanted him to make good decisions with his life.

dating was not a huge part of his life, though he did have a few girlfriends in high school. they had meant something to him but they had never been in love, at least marcus hadn’t. he tried to part ways with them on good terms, but breakups were never that easy.

he went to college at yale university for both his undergrad and law school. he was far away from his parent’s and that was when marcus really got to let loose. college was not only a time for him to get serious about becoming a lawyer but he also got to go out more, he really found what he started liking in life. not that he hadn’t been able to before, but this was his first time on his own.

marcus made plenty of friends when he attended yale and some of those friends remained in his life long after graduating, despite going in different directions. he kept in touch with many fellow lawyers and friends from his undergraduate degree when he moved after law school.

dating in college was a different story. he did it far more often, in short term sprints. he wanted to get to know as many people as he could in a short amount of time. some might have called him a serial dater, but he actually cared for the women that he was with, but none of them had sparked long enough to make him fall in love.

in law school, marcus dated one person and it was majority of their law school years. they were both incredibly competitive in nature and continuously butt heads against one another when it came to classes. outside of school? the two got along so well and it was the first time that marcus thought that he might actually marry someone.

however, their relationship came to an end when he caught her sleeping with one of their professors to get her grades up in the class. all she really had cared about, at least it seemed, had been beating him.

after law school, marcus ended up in arizona where he spent the years after graduation working. marcus busted his ass, working sixty hours a week as an associate, making his way to junior partner and eventually was senior partner. however, that is when the promotions stopped. he wanted his name on the wall and had long proved that he deserved it.

he was cut throat when it came to his cases, doing what it took to close clients, win cases and keep clients at the end of the day. marcus was easily going to be the next name on the wall after all the work he put into the firm.

however, in early 2022, marcus had a feeling that he would be passed up on. again. he began looking for other jobs, but not in the state of arizona. word would get back and he really wouldn’t get the opportunity to become senior partner. it was how he connected with jeremy lieberman. the two met several times over the next year and eventually, marcus knew that was a better fit.

until december of 2022 working a law firm where he was supposed to be partner when the opportunity came. however, they passed over him and marcus couldn’t handle it, he earned partner and worked his ass off for it, so he left, coming to east haven to get what he deserved. he remained senior partner when joining the firm, only not to step on any toes but the promise was there, more than the last place he worked.

despite being so hard-working, marcus has his hobbies that he enjoys to be fun. karaoke is actually something that marcus gets really into. he loves having fun, loves getting on stage and singing with his friends. he doesn’t look like the type of guy to let loose but he absolutely loves going out and enjoying himself, even if he might complain of his old age later on.

dating comes easily to marcus, it always has, but the relationships don’t always last long. though he is almost forty, marcus and settling down haven’t crossed paths. he hasn’t found anyone that he has wanted to settle down with. honesty is always the best policy when it comes to him, as he is always up front with those he does go on dates with.

since moving to east haven, marcus has found a different kind of lifestyle. no longer are the cases that he work as cut throat as he was used to. they were smaller, community based cases and marcus really fell in love with helping the people that deserved it and not the corporations that were money hungry.

as the seasons change in east haven, marcus has been finding new hobbies. he’s tried out snowboarding and failed miserably, but has found summer activities to be more enjoyable. he gets to ride his motorcycle around and has taken to some water activities like kayaking, taking part in the outdoor club and when the weather isn’t all that good, one can catch marcus at trivia.

after being in east haven for the last year, marcus had made lots of friends, found himself in the beds of many others, but as the year comes to an end, he has his eyes set on bobby rhodes. additionally, like he had been working for since he started out as a lawyer, marcus is now the official partner to jeremy at what is now called lieberman and reyes law.

wanted connections.

childhood friends from seattle

friends from yale college, from undergrad or law school

lawyers, friends, exes from his time in arizona ( over ten years there )

new friendships, dates, one night stands, etc

#marcus reyes || introduction

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studiojeon · 3 years

Text

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | - how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :)

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break.

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus.

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would.

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time.

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building.

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?”

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway”

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack.

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

291 notes · View notes

nctyhoney · 3 years

Text

a helping hand (m)

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink

Playlist: pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.

Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.

—————————————————————————

It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.

In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.

The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.

"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.

"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.

"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.

"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."

Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.

"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"

"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.

You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"

"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."

Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.

"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.

"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."

You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.

"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.

Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.

"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.

"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.

"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."

He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.

"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.

"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.

"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.

He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."

You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.

"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.

♡

It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.

In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.

You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.

You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.

Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.

You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.

He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though.

"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.

He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.

"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.

"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.

Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.

"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.

Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.

Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.

You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.

You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.

"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.

"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.

"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.

"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.

"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."

You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.

"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."

"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"

Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?

"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.

"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.

"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.

"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."

"Girl, you're such a bad liar."

♡

Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.

Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.

Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.

Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh.

You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.

“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.

“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.

“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.

The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.

“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.

Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.

“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.

Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.

“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark.

Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully.

“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.

Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.

“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”

It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”

Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.

“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.

The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.

“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.

There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.

“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.

You laugh then, typical Johnny.

There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.

“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.

It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.

“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”

“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.

“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.

Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two.

“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.

“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”

Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.

“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.

You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.

“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.

You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.

“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.

It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.

Yerin is smirking, expectant.

“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.

“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.

“You said you wanted the truth.”

Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.

“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.

“Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”

"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."

"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.

It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street.

"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.

"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says.

Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.

"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.

"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.

"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.

You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.

"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.

Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."

"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."

Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"

"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.

"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.

"I guess you're right."

"So where are we going?"

"McDonald's?" you ask.

"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.

You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"

He shrugs, "Why not?"

His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street.

"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."

Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.

"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.

You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"

Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.

♡

Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.

"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.

You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."

He smiles in response but doesn't move.

"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.

He sits down gingerly then.

"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.

You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.

When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.

"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.

You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.

"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"

It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong with what we're doing."

That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.

"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.

He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.

"God that feels so good - keep doing that," you breathe.

He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.

Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.

"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.

"Shit, no."

You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.

"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.

"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.

You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.

You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.

You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.

You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.

"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.

"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.

Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.

You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.

You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."

He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.

"I'm so...close, fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.

He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.

"Shit," Mark hisses.

"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.

You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.

"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.

"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.

"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.

"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."

"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.

"Mm?"

"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.

Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.

"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.

He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.

He smiles and you know he's blushing.

"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.

"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.

Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.

♡

Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.

"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.

"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.

"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.

"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.

"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.

You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.

Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.

And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.

♡

It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.

You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.

"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.

You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.

“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling.

“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously.

“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously.

You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were.

Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.

You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"

You laugh then, "Do they?"

Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"

"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."

"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.

"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"

"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.

You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."

Mark relaxes a little then.

"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"

"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.

Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.

"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.

"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.

"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.

He always has a roundabout way of saying things.

♡

It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.

"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.

He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.

"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.

Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.

"No, I like it."

You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.

You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.

"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.

You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.

As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.

You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.

"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.

"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.

"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."

"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.

You raise an eyebrow then.

"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.

Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."

"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.

I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night

“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.

“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.

“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says.

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark.

You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming.

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.

The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.

"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."

"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.

"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."

You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.

There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.

Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.

Mark hovers over you.

"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.

You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"

You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.

Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.

Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.

He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.

"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.

You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.

Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.

"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.

"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.

"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.

"Please, please fuck me, Mark."

You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.

Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.

He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.

"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.

Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.

"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.

Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.

"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.

"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?

Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.

"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.

“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.

Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”

Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.

Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.

"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.

"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.

“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game.

“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.

He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.

“My god, Mark” is all you can manage.

Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.

It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.

"Mark, I'm - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.

"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.

It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.

"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.

"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.

"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.

"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.

"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.

"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.

"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.

He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.

Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.

As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.

Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."

"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.

Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.

His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next.

"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.

"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.

Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.

"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.

Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.

"Mmm?"

"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."

He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"

"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."

"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.

"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.

"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.

As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.

"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.

"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."

Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."

"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.

"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.

You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly.

Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?"

"It sounds lovely," you smile.

You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.

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