#and the kids who made it to being a teenager and then *maybe* adulthood if they were lucky. what were they feeling???
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pinky ring / sim jaeyun
synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.
pairing: childhood besties jake x reader
wc: 1.1k
To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.
For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.
"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".
That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.
"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"
At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".
It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.
Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.
You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.
Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.
"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"
"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"
"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"
"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.
Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.
"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."
"Then, who is going to marry me?"
"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"
"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.
That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.
With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.
Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.
When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.
Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"
"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"
Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"
In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"
Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.
But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.
"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen au#engene#enha#enhypen x reader#jake#jake enhypen#jake sim#jake sim imagines#jake sim x reader#jake x reader#sim jake
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so fallen order and survivor got me thinking.
Cal is....18 in Fallen order. (Had to double check but yes).
He had just made it to (our?) adulthood in the game. Recently, is my guess based on the "Five" correction to Prauf.
Was he surprised by it, when the day hit and he turned 18? Was he relieved, proud, maybe? Or was it just another day for him? Did he wonder if he'd make it to 18 in those five years prior?
What about other padawans - who did or didn't make it to their adulthood?
Was there a "but I'm not even an adult yet!" if they were found? Or "I made it to adulthood..." stray thought? What happened, when the children became adults?
And how did people who watched the temple burn from afar mentally justify killing literal children?
#star wars#order 66 meta#jedi fallen order#jedi fallen order meta#order 66#jedi meta#star wars meta#and the kids who made it to being a teenager and then *maybe* adulthood if they were lucky. what were they feeling???#look i made myself sad yall and y'all gotta suffer with me now sorrry
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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.
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.
"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—”
#smut#kpop smut#girl group smut#female idol smut#idol smut#momoland smut#nancy mcdonie smut#nancy smut#momoland nancy smut#ioi smut#soloist smut#jeon somi smut#somi smut#ioi somi smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#idol x reader#idol x male reader#pov smut#kofimission#commission
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Hello it's me again. I hope all is well with you. I was wondering if u could write something about reader and any of the bat boys (maybe all three but not shorts) where the teenage daughter is dating or something? You can write the way u want
*Cracks knuckles* time for girl dad Cassian 😍😍😍😍
Daddy's Girl
Summary - With his daughter freshly turning 50, Cassian now faces the hardships of losing his babygirl to adulthood and the horrors of dating.
Warnings- very protective Cassian along with Uncle Az and Rhys having to do their thing, usual batboy dramatics. **edit to additional warnings** adults discussing different methods of sex education and dads doing the being more protective of their daughters than their sons thing**
A/N - I based Adriana's age off what I thought I remembered Alys saying about fae young in the first book (her nephew's were 50 and just looked like adult) pleaze correct me if I'm wrong, though
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
You glared as Cassian sighed again. Flipping the page in your book as he shifted and stared at you. "Just tell me where she is." You looked up at him over the edge of your book before shutting it slowly and laying it on the coffee table.
"I've told you." You answer him cooly, watching as that smirk grew on his face.
Cassian shook his head. "You told me what she was doing, that you had allowed her to leave with a friend," he said the word like he was holding back a vomit, "but not where she was." You two had played this game frequently. The one where he'd do his best to play Azriel and drag answers from you. It wasn't until familiar scarred hands found your jaw and Rhysand appeared next to Cassian that you realized this was serious.
"Where is my niece?" Azriel uttered the words in an eerily calm voice as he forced you to look at him.
You checked your shields, swallowing thickly. Had you known when Adriana was born 50 years ago she would be the only female among the litter of children, you would have immediately ran for hills.
Rhys had 4 sons with Feyre. All of whom were incredibly protective of their female cousin. Azriel shared 7 kids with Gywn. All male. All older than your daughter. You and Cassian shared 3 children. Two twin sons, both cunning and smart, and your youngest, sweet Adriana.
"She's in Velaris." Azriel scoffed at the answer and you checked your shields again as the first scratch came.
"Semantics." Rhysand purred. "Where in Velaris?"
"And with whom?" Cassian immediately followed, his body language much more relaxed despite the panic radiating down the bond.
Azriel had not dropped your chin. Keeping your eyes and face locked on his. "Y/n, you know how this ends. You can tell us freely or I can pry it from you."
You spat back quickly. "Only if Gywn is joining." The shock made Azriel's hand fall from your face and allowed you to put space between the three of them and you. "She's a grown female. If she wants to go on a date, that is perfectly fine."
Cassian's eyes were wide immediately. "You didn't say it was a date before, sweetheart."
"Because I knew you would react like this." You paused, crossing your arms against your chest before looking at Rhysand. "When Nyx went on his first date, you told him how to charm her into his bed." Rhys nodded in agreement and smiled fondly.
You then turned to Azriel. "When Erza wanted to court a female for the first time, not just date her, but truly court her, you took him to not one, not two, but 7 brothels, one in each court, ensuring he had learned how to please a female from sex workers." Azriel didn't disagree, the corners of his lips twitching up as his eyes sparkled.
You finally turned to Cassian, a finger raised. "And you. You, dear husband. The one who planted legends of the sexual escapades of you and your two brother, into our sons minds, shall I bring up the incident where we walked in on our twin sons and that fem-"
Cassian stood, covering your mouth quickly with his eyes wide. "This is different. This is my daughter. My illyrian daughter who has wings. My daughter who chose arts and philanthropy over training. My girl-"
"Our girl," Rhys corrected softly. "Addy is the only girl we were blessed with. We don't mind that she's on a date. We just want to know who and where." He stared at you, eyes searching and pleading for an answer. "Please, y/n, it wasn't really that long ago when she used to say she was going to marry myself or Azriel because we would never hurt her. What if he does hurt her? And we weren't there." Rhysand's jaw tightened, his eyes squeezing shut as if to erase an image he did not want to create. "Who is she with? Please. She's just."
"She's our world," Azriel finished. His voice was also tight. Eyes peering up at the ceiling. "She is a gentle, kind, beautiful girl. I just do not ever want to see her hurt."
Cassian whispered, "I will not be able to live with myself if something happens to her, y/n." Your eyes were watering as you stared at Cassian. "Sweetheart, please. We weren't ready for this. I was not ready for her to date yet. Especially without me meeting who she was going out with."
"You already know him," you answered softly. "Micha Vanserra and Adriana are at the bakery we go to every Saturday on the Sindra. They're going to attend a candlelit concert in the heart of the Rainbow tonight. They are meeting another couple there." You watched as Rhys relaxed slightly and Azriel's wings unfurled.
"Eris and Nesta's son?" Azriel sat down and shrugged. "She's safe. Nesta and Eris worked very hard to ensure he grew up respecting and admiring females and women. He is with Eris at every visit to shelters for females. Good kid."
Rhys nodded in agreement. "Nyx is going to the same concert with a female tonight. I'm assuming that is who they are meeting. If he does, by chance, do anything to her, Nyx will probably just kill him. He likes the male but hasn't forgiven Eris for the comment about y/n when she was pregnant." You rolled your eyes, having forgiven Eris for calling you a "delectable pumpkin ripe for taking" trying to get under your husband's skin many years ago.
Cassian stared at you. "You let her leave with Micha Vanserra?" You nodded. "He's not good enough." Cassian immediately turned to head out of the door only to be stopped by shadows and tendrils of darkness.
Azriel had pulled out cards and had summoned whiskey. Rhys spoke, leaning back into the couch further as he poured 3 glasses. "Cassian, we have an alliance with Autumn. Micha is a good male. A very good one. And well trained in combat. Along with that, he is the heir of the Autumn Court. What were you hoping for? A God?"
Cassian's hand on his hidden dagger twitched, and his shoulders fell in defeat. "She's my baby," he repeated softly.
You moved to him, a hand running up and down between his shoulder blades. "And it's time for her to fly, Cass. Stopping her from dating will push her away and create secrets. We promised all of our kids we would never put them in a situation where secrets felt needed, remember?" He nodded, wings falling even more. "Come drink with your brothers and play cards. How long has it been since you three had a poker night? How long has it been since we had a child free night?"
"Years," Cassian grumbled. "Since Nyx was born." You nodded, kissing his back. "Maybe a few rounds." He moved to them, conceding and sitting in the circle as Rhys cheered in victory, and Azriel smiled and dealt cards. "If She's late, though, I'm hunting him down."
"Oh yeah," Azriel agreed. "Rhys and I already decided that." Azriel paused, studying his cards, "Now what exactly did my nephews do?" You watched as Cassian's eyes wrinkled slightly as he smiled. Rhys threw you a wink, and you blew him a kiss as you walked away, your husband already deep into the story about your sons.
#acotar#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#eris vanserra#azriel#rhys acotar#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#cassian fic#girldad!cassian
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“What is this feeling?” Kim Minjeong
kim minjeong x fem reader
content warning: college au, angst, swearing, slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, sensitive topics like divorce, reader is pretty much emotionless until minjeong comes in her life, roomie minjeong, emotional conflicts, reader’s first time doing anything, cunnilingus, fingering
a/n : i’m happy to say that this is my first fic on this blog and i hope you enjoy <3
word count : 4.4k
requested : yes
“Fuck you! I can’t believe that you would do this to me after we’ve been married for ten years. We have a child!”
Loud noises and voices filled your senses, your parents were arguing again, but this time it seemed different. Even though you were young, you were not oblivious. By looking at their expressions you could tell that they were angry, but something about your mom’s face made you wonder if there was an emotion that was more extreme than anger.
Although you were only a child, you were heavily affected by your parents’ divorce settlement. At that time, you had no idea what caused your mom to take you away to a whole knew house, eat different meals, change schools, and eventually gain a new dad (which you were still indifferent to). Maybe it was because things got too loud when they were together, it did start to give you headaches.
Everything in your life changed in what seemed like just a snap of a finger. As you grew up, you became cold to the outside world. You were angry and confused as to why your father was taken from you. Well, you learned as a teenager that they split up because your dad had cheated on your mom with some dumb bitch from his work office, but it’s whatever.
High school felt like a big blur of numbness. Friends were something you were lacking, but that was by choice. Throughout your childhood and transformation into adulthood you learned to never trust anyone. Who knows how long those friends will even last? Who knows that if you had a partner they wouldn’t cheat on you and cause a messy breakup?
You weren’t dumb though. You knew that your feelings are impacted from your trauma as a kid, but you brushed it off once you realized that people were just there to hurt feelings and break hearts. That way, you didn’t even need to question if you wanted friends, or a relationship. You already know the truth about the world, so you thought.
Now, you have been accepted into your dream university. Although things were going smoothly in the right direction so far, you couldn’t help but feel conflicted about the anoint of people that will be attending the school this year. You felt a bit strange, but that emotion couldn’t be pinpointed after most emotions have been blocked out from your consciousness.
After begging your mom to pick a single room in the dorms, you were quickly humbled after discovering that such things didn’t exist. You had to have a roommate. Through the entirety of your life you were mostly fearless, but now you’re being forced to spend a whole 4 years with a person you’ve never met before. A weird feeling hit your chest. Was it anger? Or perhaps being what they call, nervous?
Many thoughts and scenarios filled your mind, you were overthinking, something that you haven’t done since you moved houses after the incident. It wasn’t clear why completely normal human interaction at a university was so intimidating to you, but you felt small when you shakily entered the new room.
Quick eyes darted around to observe every little detail. Kitchenette, small dining table with… two chairs, small couch with a small tv, couch only has room for about… two people. There were only two more doors so you naturally assumed that they were separate bedrooms, thank the lord. You let out a relieved sigh before turning the knob to one of the doors. Swinging the door open, you were expected to be met by a small and intimate room, but you were met with a… bathroom?
“Hey! You must be my roommate. I mean i would hope so since you’re looking at the place very intensely.”
Once the voice that wasn’t yours hit your senses, your heart began to beat abnormally fast. Are you nervous? You’ve never been nervous before, just very cold and locked away from the world and other humans. Shaking away the questions in your head, you tried to compose yourself before turning to the source of sound. There was a girl standing in the other doorway. A very pretty girl.
“Hi, I’m Minjeong. Kim Minjeong.”
The pretty girl softly spoke with a smile of her face. You looked down slightly to see an extended arm and an open hand. Oh god, you’ve never shook hands with anyone before. How do you shake hands again?
“Hey… I’m y/n. Nice to meet you Minjeong.”
Shit, you forgot to put any emotion of your face or your monotone voice. It’s like you were on some emotionless default setting. Your cold hand awkwardly reached for hers and wrapped around, it was warm. She sweetly smiled as you both shook hands. Or well, she shook your hand, you might’ve forgot to move after her warmth reached your icy hand.
“Nice to meet you too, y/n.”
Something was happening to you, your face felt like it was heating up as your heartbeat began to almost hurt from its intensity and speed. Are you okay? Maybe you’re sick. Oh shit, you don’t want to get her sick if you’re not feeling well. You reluctantly pulled your hand back, initially shocking her. You take note of this as you swiftly correct yourself.
“S-Sorry. I’m just, not feeling that well. I don’t want to get you sick or anything…”
Look at anything but her, that’s what you told yourself. The floor was a nice contender, that was until she took a few steps closer to you, soft slippers shuffling across the wood floor. You almost gasped when her hand lifted up to rest itself against your blazing cheeks and forehead. The pretty girl is really close, a bit too close.
“Oh no, you’re burning up.” Minjeong frowned as she continued to check the temperature of your red face.
Cute. You think she’s cute. But why? You have never found anything cute before, not even a small puppy, not since you were a kid.
You felt like you were about to pass out, feeling quite pathetic since all she did was check your temperature and you were borderline having a panic attack, but it’s whatever.
“Here, come sit down and I’ll get you some medicine.”
“It’s okay. I think I’m oka-“
She suddenly dragged you by the arm and sat you down on one of the dining chairs. You felt like a child again, like she was your mom taking care of you. You felt safe in a way, something you haven’t felt since you were… a kid. It seems there is a pattern, Minjeong was making you feel things you haven’t felt in almost your entire life. But how?
“Here y/n, take this.” Minjeong spoke softly to you as she handed over a glass of water and a couple of pills which you assumed to be advil.
The corners of your lips turned up into a shy smile. While picking up the glass you thanked her and used the water to help swallow the medicine. After setting the cup back onto the table, she gently grabbed your hand, leading you towards the other room you have yet to explore.
As the two of you walked past the door frame, you were greeted with half the room being covered in ivory decorations and posters of who you presumed to be her favorite singers. The other side was blank and you knew that it was your side of the room.
“You don’t have to go all out like i did, but i thought it would be nice to make myself at home since we’re going to be living together for a while.”
You hummed softly as she continued to explain her decoration choice. This isn’t too bad. Maybe it was a good thing to finally talk to someone all these years.
As time passed, you found that you and Minjeong surprisingly had a lot in common. This made it easy to talk to each other. Conversations no longer felt uncomfortable or forced to you, at least when you talked to her.
You also found yourself frequently doing things together. She offered to tour around the school together, and she even offered to walk you to your classes. You haven’t felt this cared about by anyone who wasn’t your mother, it was strange to you.
Soon enough, interactions within the school turned into fun activities outside of it. She would often ask if you wanted to go to the movies, or take a walk at her new favorite park, or even go out to eat together.
When being with her, you just feel so happy. This girl would never fail to make you laugh or smile, and you found yourself naturally feeling close to her. Is this what having a friend was like?
Although you felt a bit regretful about refusing to meet anyone new in the past, you couldn’t help but be extremely grateful to have a friend you cared about in the present. Minjeong had completely shifted your once cold and lay-low world into a bright and sunny one.
As your friendship with her developed even farther, you started to become afraid. You were afraid because Minjeong was beginning to make you feel something strange. You often found yourself gazing at her for extended periods of time, and she would make your heart pang faster than normal. She suddenly made you nervous even though you have been friends for a solid amount of time now.
Why are you nervous? Maybe your body is starting to reject her in a way. But why? She’s your friend, you can’t lose that now, the only thing that made your life worth living.
Hundreds of questions and doubts floated by, but you pushed them aside when Minjeong came back and sat down across from you.
“Here’s yours y/n. I’ve never met someone who likes cotton candy flavored ice cream, I’ll have to try some.”
Minjeong spoke with a smile as she handed you the cup of cotton candy ice cream you ordered at the counter. The two of you were enjoying a nice ice cream shop getaway after a long week of uni. You thanked her and began to eat your frozen treat.
The girl in front of you reached across the table and glided her spoon into your blue ice cream, successfully stealing a bite. The action made you two giggle as she ate it off of her spoon and hummed at the taste.
“It’s very good, I like it y/n. Oh- you’ve got something on your lips.”
You looked at her like a deer in headlights as she took a napkin and gently wiped the stray ice cream off the corner of your mouth. She retracted her hand and let out a light giggle.
“There, all better.”
The feeling was back again, but this time you smiled uncontrollably. It was still out of nervousness, but it almost felt like a good thing. The small silence was broken when she began to speak.
“I have to tell you something y/n. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now but I needed to find the right time. I think now’s a good time and I can’t wait any longer.”
You were a bit stunned by this. What did she have to tell you? You hoped it wasn’t bad, or maybe you did something wrong perhaps. You just nodded and maintained eye contact, letting her know to continue.
“I really like you y/n, and i want to be something more than just friends, if you want that too.” She bit her lip in anticipation, nervous for what you had to say.
Her words had a hard time sinking in your mind. You honestly couldn’t really tell what she meant, mostly because no one has ever told you this before.
“More than friends..?” Your confusion was obvious to Minjeong and she explained further.
“Yeah, like you know, girlfriends.” She was now shyly smiling.
You could vaguely pinpoint the emotion you were recently feeling while around her. Maybe you liked her too? Everything was unfamiliar, but you knew a thing or two about romantic interests just from watching a few shows, even though you didn’t necessarily understand it.
Many thoughts swam in your head, most of them were just trying to understand what she meant. But you know what she means, you’re just overthinking.
Ultimately, you decided that you reciprocated the feelings she had presented to you on this winter night. You liked her too.
“Minjeong, I…” You slightly hesitated, and this didn’t go unnoticed to her.
Her heart dropped. Maybe she had scared you off. Or maybe you didn’t feel the same way and she had made you uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl into a hole and shame herself for possibly ruining a perfectly good friendship.
“…I would like that. I like that idea.”
Minjeong’s face lit up and you couldn’t resist having the same reaction. She let out a relieved sigh and held your hand in hers.
And that’s when the next chapter of your life sprung into action.
You and Minjeong were now dating and things couldn’t be better. She held your hand everywhere the two of you went, and you loved it, her hands were so soft and comforting. She would frequently take you out on fun dates that she thinks you’ll enjoy, as well as spending quality time alone in your dorm together. She was everything you could ever hope and wish for.
When she is feeling particularly happy in a day, she would run around with a grin on her face and brag about how amazing her girlfriend was. When she is feeling defeated and sad, she would hold you closer when you hugged her and cry softly into your shoulder.
When those dark moments would appear, something inside you automatically knew how to comfort her. You would hold her tightly and tell her that everything will be okay, and you would leave soft kisses on her cheeks and lips while wiping her tears away. It was those moments she cherished the most.
But there was something that stood out to you, and that was the events that were currently happening.
It was quiet for a moment. The only thing that could be heard was steady breaths and quick heartbeats. You don’t remember how you got here, but you were laid down on Minjeong’s bed with her hovering above you. She held your waist gently with one hand. You observed her pretty eyes as they darted down to somewhere lower on your face.
You could feel something in the air shift when she licked her lips. She looked like she wanted to eat you whole. With hooded eyes and parted lips, she looked up into your eyes once more before closing her own and leaning in, closing the gap. Everything felt surreal at this very moment.
Her lips felt so soft against yours. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her beginning to move. This felt way too good. You never expected kissing to be this good.
It started off slow. You felt fluttering in your stomach as she kissed you. You have heard about the saying ‘Butterflies in your stomach’ before, but you never really understood what it meant, until now.
Your eyebrows furrowed when she introduced her hot tongue to yours. Things were becoming messy now. Wet smacks and soft moans could be heard in the quiet room. After a few minutes of softly making out, she broke the kiss to catch a breath, a small trail of saliva connecting you two. She then began to kiss across your jawline and down your neck.
Minjeong feverishly left sloppy kisses down your neck, leaving marks and bruises causing a whine to slip out of your mouth. She focused back onto your lips as her hands fumbled with the drawstrings of your pajama pants. Once she successfully untied the string, her warm hand slipped inside and underneath your panties. The air was getting thicker as your breaths became heavier.
Things were going too fast for your brain to register. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never done this before and you were starting to panic.
“M-Minjeong wait.”
The girl on top of you immediately drew her hand back and looked at you in concern.
“Shit, I’m so sorry y/n. Was i going too far?” Minjeong was on the verge of rambling but she caught herself in order to listen to your response. Her heart was racing as she was afraid that she had crossed a line.
“It’s noting. I’m just, a little nervous. I’ve never done this before…” Your voice was shaky as you confessed to her.
Minjeong was shocked. She was shocked that a beautiful girl like you had never had sex before, she thought you were a pretty good kisser but maybe you were just a natural at it. But nothing to worry about. Even though Minjeong was extremely horny and wanted to devour you, she was also very understanding and sweet.
“Hey, it’s okay yn. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m totally okay with just kissing or even doing something else non sexual.”
She melted your cold heart. You’ve discovered a new emotion at this very moment. A feeling that you have never experienced throughout your life, not even when you were younger. You felt like you wanted to be around her at all times, or that you wanted to kiss her forever, or tell her that you loved her.
Wait, what is this feeling?
“No it’s okay, I really want this. I just think…” You trailed off, hesitating to wisely choose your next words.
She waited patiently and watched you with a soft expression, urging you on to continue. You were about to step into unfamiliar territory, but you are ready now.
“I love you Minjeong.”
Warmth. Warmth was all the both of you felt.
“I… I’ve never loved anyone before, but i know I’m in love with you Minjeong.”
To say you were a bit nervous was a god damn understatement. You just admitted to feeling something you’ve never felt before to the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You felt like you were about to explode when she didn’t respond back.
After a great deal of silence and you awkwardly darting your eyes across the room, she carefully held your chin with her hand and tilted your head up, planting a soft kiss onto your lips once more.
This time it felt different though. Deeper might be the word to describe it. It felt deeper. It felt like all of her own emotions were being poured out in just that one kiss. There was something in particular that felt more prominent.
Love.
Everything felt right now. Was this the secret to life you have been locking away from yourself within your own consciousness? You never knew such a strong feeling could exist in your heart, but here it is being revealed by Minjeong.
She leaned back a bit and rested her forehead against yours, staring into your eyes that were staring right back.
“I love you too. So much.”
A wave of happiness crashed over you as you leaned in to kiss her once more. Now it was exciting, passionate even. Your mind was reeling with thoughts of her, only her. You wanted her and she wanted you back, so badly. She resumed back to her previous actions and let her lips trail further down your clavicle.
“Can i take this off?” Her hands her hovering over the hem of your shirt.
You eagerly nodded and lifted your arms over your head so she could remove the piece of clothing that was blocking her view from your gorgeous breasts. She softly moaned when she laid eyes onto your plump mounds, her mind hazy from arousal. Her hands slid over the sensitive skin of your waist and up to your bare chest.
You were nervous and on edge as she moved to gently squeeze your chest with her hands. Your body involuntarily jolted at the sensation. So this is what it feels like to be touched in those areas, it feels nice.
Things escalated quickly as she was soon sucking on your nipples while you whined and moaned. It felt so good whatever she was doing. All you could do was grip the pillow your head was resting on and let Minjeong do whatever she wanted with you.
Not after long, you started to feel hot and wet down there. You knew what sex was, you’re not dumb, but you’ve never touched yourself before so you have no idea what it feels like. It suddenly felt too hot in your pants, but Minjeong fixed that.
She planted light kisses down your abdomen and stopped when she reached her destination. She licked her lips in anticipation and dug her fingers into the waistband of your bottoms. With almost being lost in complete lust, her senses were swiftly regained once she remembered that you were a virgin.
While looking up at you with awaiting eyes, she made one last confirmation. “Are you sure about this baby? I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”
Something within those words made heat rush down to your core once again. What was she going to do to you? There was only one way to find out.
“Yes I’m sure. Please touch me Minjeong, it feels hot down there.”
You’re too cute for her, fucking adorable even. Something about you triggered her to rip your pants and panties down, leaving you completely naked and bare. She slid her hands under your thighs and pushed them apart, revealing your dripping cunt. It was all too much for her. Before you could even begin to predict her next move, she dove in.
It was unlike anything else. It was beyond heavenly. Minjeong held you close to her as she drank up all of your juices. You let out a loud moan of her name when her tongue circled over your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body.
Your hand instinctively reached to push her head closer when she started to suck on the small nub. Loud pants and whines could be heard along with the sinful noises from your girlfriend in between your legs. Your hips began to move on their own, chasing her mouth even though it wasn’t going anywhere.
Short after she started, you felt a tight knot in your tummy. The feeling only caused your eyes to roll back. You didn’t know what was about to happen, it felt like the knot was about to burst.
“Minjeong wait, please stop, I feel weird. My tummy feels so weird.”
Your girlfriend ignored your cries and please and continued to eat you out like she was starving. She didn’t expect you to last long, but it was just another thing that made you even fucking cuter to her. She sped up her movements and feverishly ate your cunt to encourage your first orgasm. You rolled your hips against her face, feeling closer and closer to your inevitable peak until…
The knot snapped. The knot snapped and everything felt ten times stronger. You practically screamed out her name as your body convulsed. Your pussy and your abdomen clenched over and over again. Tears prickled at the side of your eyes as you felt winded, you gasped for air. Your girlfriend slowly circled your clit with her tongue, helping you ride out your orgasm.
Minjeong ran a hand along your lower stomach to calm you down and bring you back to reality. You let go of her pretty hair and your hand retreated back to the bed. She swallowed every last drop and eventually pulled back while licking any remaining juices off of her own lips.
“How was it baby? You seemed to enjoy it.”
You couldn’t even speak. Your body was still twitching lightly as you stared at each other. A smirk grazed her features before she stuck two of her fingers into her mouth, properly preparing them for the next movement of your pleasure. You blinked curiously as she eased a finger into you.
It hurt at first, but soon the pain faded as she smoothly moved in and out of you while kissing and leaving marks all over your thighs. The pleasure only doubled when she squeezed the second one in, thoroughly stretching out the pussy she’s claiming as hers now. It all felt too good.
“I-It’s too much Minjeong. I can’t.” You whined out and sobbed as you covered your eyes with your arm.
It felt so good it almost hurt, it was too much, but Minjeong didn’t care. She wanted to see her baby come undone one more time before she’s satisfied.
Her long fingers only deepened their strokes and curled inside your sensitive pussy. Her mouth drifted back down and found its way onto your clit once again. That was the final straw. You felt the now familiar knot come back as she assaulted your swollen cunt.
“M-Minjeong, I feel weird again. Feels so good, please don’t stop.”
She smirked at the sound of you slowly becoming addicted to her touch. She never missed a beat or slowed down, desperate to make you reach your peak once more. She gave one last lick to before sitting up to meet you in a sloppy kiss.
Her thumb circled your puffy clit as her fingers thrusted at a steady pace. You moaned against her lips, a new set of tears falling down your cheeks as your orgasm ripped through you. You broke the kiss and held her close, gasping as she bit down onto your shoulder, the pain only adding to the pleasure.
Your cunt clenched around her fingers rhythmically, your body followed a similar pattern with jerks and twitches. You let out a satisfied moan before falling limp onto her bed. Your high slowly subsided and you felt a sudden rush of exhaustion fall over you.
With tired eyes, you watched Minjeong pull her digits out and enter them in her mouth, humming at the taste.
“Mmmm, I like this flavor more than any dumb ice cream flavor. You’re so fucking delicious y/n.”
You rolled your eyes at the cheesy comment before pulling her down to cuddle you. She held on to her stupid grin and softly kissed your forehead before pulling away and lifting your achy body up.
“Okay baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”
So this is your conclusion, your awakening. There is something deeper in life, and there is something more to feel than numbness. There’s love. And you found the love of your life, Kim Minjeong.
#aespa smut#kim minjeong smut#winter smut#aespa winter smut#kpop smut#aespa fanfic#aespa fluff#aespa angst
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A Bento For Kento
Chapter 1: The Very First Bento
Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.7k
cw: mention of a tragic accident (does not go into detail)
Summary: You make the very first bento box for your dear brother, Ren. You also find out some surprising news. Nanami hasn't found a new bakery to buy his typical ham and cheese sandwich. He eyes his new student's bento box with envy.
Notes: The first bento box is inspired by this: Cute Octopus Sausage Bento! I mean, how cute is this?! Let me know in the comments, chat, or in a private message if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)! And thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated :)
ao3 | Next Chapter
A Bento for Kento Masterlist
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White rice, check. Chicken gyozas, check. Spring mix salad with a side of creamy miso dressing, check. Hot dog pieces shaped like little octopi, because why the hell not, check. All in the bento they go, you think, in a sing-song voice.
It’s the beginning of summer and the temperature is finally starting to warm up. This season always puts you in a lazy mood, more so than usual. Hearing the neighborhood kids play joyfully outside makes you wish you had a mandated break as well. But no, you are an adult! Almost thirty in fact. Unfortunately, you haven’t had a vacation in years, so you will continue to flow through the mundane cycle of adulthood until you’re retired or, fingers crossed, win the lottery. None of which you predict will happen in the near future.
Thankfully, your job allows you to work from home most days of the year. This is especially nice because this summer, your dear younger brother, Ren, is living with you. Your parents originally planned a long family vacation overseas with him, having never had a chance to travel before. You were excited for him to see the outside world, explore his horizons. Since you couldn’t go because of your responsibilities to your 9-to-5, you were planning to live vicariously through him as he enjoyed the sights, sounds, and most importantly, the delicious food.
When he decided last minute that he did not want to go on the trip anymore, you were shocked. Your parents, being the saints they are, waved it off casually, not even attempting to convince him to reconsider. You questioned them to discover the reason for the sudden decision. They simply said, “He has his reasons.” No further explanation. After pestering them a few more times, only to receive the same answer, you stopped, leaving everything up to your own speculations.
Maybe it was cold feet? Anxiety? An awkward phase? Overseas trips can be stressful, you can understand that. Still, you can’t help but wonder. It’s probably a hormonal teenager issue that you can’t comprehend, but your parents can, so you leave it at that.
Because your parents couldn’t get out of all the deposits they made, they chose to go on their big trip without Ren. Not wanting your brother to be alone, you offered your place for him to stay, which he was just as excited about as you were. You’re happy for this opportunity to spend time with him. It’s been years since you moved out and you missed hanging out with your family. You also feel guilty about putting minimal effort into visiting them, despite being less than an hour train ride away. This is your chance to make up for lost time, especially with your brother, who you’ve always felt a special bond with. Before they left, your parents made it a point to tell you, “Take care of him while we’re away.” As if you needed to prove to them, and yourself, that you are capable of being the best older sister you can be.
Truth be told, it’s been lonely living on your own, a revelation that you sense more and more each year you get older. Having Ren here, someone in your life who loves you unconditionally, is a welcome change. This summer is going to be exponentially better than the last five since living alone. You’re sure of it.
The first Monday of vacation, fueled by a single coffee’s worth of caffeine, you greet your brother happily in the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine! Look what I made for you!” You cradle a precious bento box in your hands, slowly lifting it up like Simba, imagining “Circle of Life” playing in the background.
Ren, fresh out of bed and still drowsy, stands in front of you, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Huh?” He yawns and stretches his arms out. “What is it?”
“It’s a bento box!” You lower it and open the cover delicately. Your eyes sparkle as you imagine a golden light shimmer from within. “I put this together myself! TikTok has a plethora of bento box content, so I took a lot of ideas from there.”
His eyes widen, gazing at the food as if it’s valuable treasure. “Gyozas! And hot dog octopi!” A bright smile on his face, he takes his phone out to snap a picture. “I’m putting this on my story, this is too cute.”
You almost tear up hearing him praise your creation like this, but it’s too earlier for those shenanigans. Calming down from your excitement, you say, “I’m still practicing. And I’m sure I’ll run out of ideas soon, so if you have any special requests, let me know.”
Closing the bento and setting it back down on the table, you ask, “What do you want to do today? If you’re hungry now, you can dig into the bento. But I was thinking we can go for a walk at the park before we eat! What do you think?”
His smile slowly turns into a small pout as he shifts his feet guiltily. “Well, actually, I forgot to tell you. I start summer school today.”
“Huh? Summer school? But your school is so far from here! It’ll take us at least 45 minutes to get there!” Is this the reason why he didn’t want to go on the trip? All because of summer school? And if he knew that, why would he agree to stay here, when it’s so far away? You start to panic slightly, taken aback by this sudden news.
“It’s not exactly for regular school,” he begins to explain. “It’s…uh, for this other program I’m applying to.”
You stare at him, brows furrowed, arms crossed, waiting for more of an explanation.
He speaks a little faster now. “It’s a summer program for this school called Jujutsu High. A big opportunity came up and I took it. The lessons are three days a week for the next two months. That’s the reason I didn’t want to go on the trip anymore. I have to attend these lessons so I can officially get in next semester. I want to go to this school from now on.”
Pausing to take a breath, he continues. “Mom and Dad know all about it. I explained it to them. They support me 100%, which is why they didn’t make a big deal when I backed out of the trip. They know this is important to me.”
Your mouth hangs open slightly, still confused, waiting for it to make sense. Jujutsu High? Why is this the first time you’re hearing of this? And Mom and Dad know all about it? Why didn’t anyone tell you?
Ren walks towards you and puts his hands on your shoulders, giving you a firm squeeze. When did he get so much taller than you? Weren’t you supposed to be the adult here?! “I know this doesn’t make sense, but it’s important to me. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. It’s just…hard to explain. And I can’t really tell you everything yet. You just have to trust me.”
He’s being weirdly cryptic, but you start to realize how odd your parents were also being the other day.
He has his reasons.
Take care of him while we’re away.
Is there something they all know about that you don’t? And why are you the only one being kept in the dark?
You snap out of your thoughts when he starts speaking again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being strange about this, but I don’t know how to explain everything right now. Just trust me. It’s not sketchy or dangerous, I promise.” He flashes you a reassuring grin.
After contemplating for several seconds, you sigh. “You promise it’s not some creepy cult, right? I’ve indulged in my fair share of true crime podcasts. I can see the warning signs!”
He laughs. “If it is a cult, then I’m already screwed, right?”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’m going to pretend that this is perfectly normal. I trust you. And I trust Mom and Dad. If they’re good with it, I’m good with it too. You don’t have to tell me everything right now if you don’t want to.” You pause, then reiterate, “I trust you.”
He wraps you in a big hug, “Thanks sis. You really are the best.”
You return his embrace, still concerned, but ultimately deciding not to worry so much about it. It can’t be anything too nefarious, right? “Anyways, Jujutsu High. Is it close by?”
“Yeah, it’s walking distance from here, about 10 minutes. But I’m doing my lessons at a nearby office building. I actually have to head over there now to meet my teacher. Our first lesson is today.” He scrambles to pack a few items into his backpack.
How strange, an office building? This really might be some weird cult thing. You grab the bento from the table and hand it to him. “Well, take this. You’ll need food. Are you skipping breakfast?”
He packs the bento carefully into his backpack. “Yeah, I’ll just save my appetite for this. This looks so good. Thanks for making it.” He zips up his bag and swings it over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off! I’ll see you later.”
As he walks towards the door, you yell out at him, “Be careful! See you later!”
You take a deep breath and look around, sighing. All alone once again.
~~~
“Nice to meet you, Nakamura. My name is Kento Nanami. I’ll be your mentor the next few weeks.”
Ren Nakamura, aged 16. Gojo recruited him when they found him wandering around the abandoned building they were investigating outside of Tokyo. This is a trial run before officially offering him a spot as a student in this upcoming schoolyear. He has no history or knowledge of Jujutsu Sorcery, having been raised by a family of non-sorcerers. However, according to Gojo, he seems to have an eye for curses, having the guts to take them head-on with no experience whatsoever. And clearly, Gojo has his own eyes on him for a reason.
“He’s adopted. His parents were killed in a tragic, mysterious accident and these family friends took him in.” Gojo gave Nanami a brief background last week. “It seems like since then, he’s had a habit for exploring haunted houses and chasing curses.”
Gojo paused, then smirked. “The kid’s got guts, that’s for sure. He was taking on this ugly looking grade 4 curse with just his skateboard as a weapon. Luckily we found him before he could get hurt.” Gojo laughed and said happily, “He’s pretty twisted, so he’ll fit right in.”
That’s how Nanami ended up here, his summer dedicated to guiding this rookie. He still owes Gojo a favor, so they settle on this as a way to pay it back. Nanami actually doesn’t mind training young prospects in Jujutsu Sorcery. Teaching is one of his hidden passions in life. It gives him purpose, something his last job couldn’t fulfill for him. Plus, it’s fun and he’s proficient at it.
Him and his new student spend the first few hours going through the history of Jujutsu Sorcery and the school, Ren interjecting often to ask questions expected from someone who’s life suddenly changed upon realizing this unique ability. Gojo even made a surprise appearance to check-in, adding a bit more chaos to the mix.
After Nanami feels like he’s overwhelmed him enough, he decides it’s time for a lunch break. He looks at his desk and remembers too late that he did not pick up lunch for the both of them, which he intended to do. The local bakery he frequents stopped selling his favorite ham and cheese sandwich. He had put off finding a replacement for a while now. After running errands all morning, the thought of providing lunch slips his mind completely.
“Nakamura. I’m sorry, but I did not bring lunch for us. I’m just going to make a hot tea for myself, but if you give me a few minutes, I’ll run out and quickly buy – ”
“Hey, no worries, mentor! I actually brought a lunch.” He pulls out a bento box out of his backpack and opens it.
Nanami’s eyes widen behind his thick glasses as Ren removes the cover. It almost seems as if a dazzling light radiates once the food is revealed. Gyozas, white rice, salad, even hot dogs shaped like little sea creatures. He would never admit to anything being “cute”, but that is the first word that pops into his head, seeing this charming work of art. Ren stares lovingly at his meal, rubs his hands together, and begins to eat.
As he digs into his gyozas, Nanami heads to the breakroom down the hall to make himself a cup of hot tea. Damn, that looked good. Need to remember to find another bakery that has ham and cheese sandwiches, he thinks to himself, waiting for the hot water to dispense into his mug.
He comes back to the conference room, freshly brewed tea in hand, and finds Ren pointing at his bento, mouth full as he muffles, “Want some?”
Shaking his head, he declines. “No thank you. I’m fine with my tea.” He pauses to think. Then he adds, “Looks good, though.”
He swallows before proudly announcing, “My sister made it! It’s something new she’s trying.” He hums happily as he bites into one of the meat octopi. The salad has been skillfully avoided, causing Nanami to smile for a fraction of a second before he catches himself.
He watches his student, all while taking a few sips of his tea. “Do you live with your sister currently? I heard that your hometown is outside Tokyo.”
“Yeah I do. She lives 10 minutes from here, so it’s convenient. I know I’ll have to move into the dorms on campus, if I get accepted that is. It’ll be nice to have my sister nearby, though. Even if she doesn’t know about any of this.” Ren frowns slightly. Perhaps it’s guilt? Nanami assumes that his sister is a non-sorcerer, based on what Gojo told him about his family situation. He also assumes that she isn’t fully aware of what her brother is now involved in.
He takes another sip of his tea, unsure how to respond since he has little experience explaining Jujutsu Sorcery to non-sorcerers. In fact, he’s made sure to keep his personal life completely separate from his work. That’s how it was when he was a salaryman, that’s how it is in his current profession. He even swore to himself that he wouldn’t get married while he is still working as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maybe this is also an excuse to avoid the awkward dating scene that he finds so tiresome.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Ren asks, pointing at the remainder of the meal, which is just leafy greens.
Downing the rest of his hot beverage, Nanami replies, “No thank you. I’m fine.” He looks at his watch. “Actually, let’s call it a day. I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first lesson. We can continue tomorrow.”
Ren stands up from his seat and rubs his belly. “Sure, sounds good! I’ll review my notes tonight and ask any other questions tomorrow.” A burp escapes his mouth, and he looks nervously at his mentor. “Sorry,” he mutters.
Nanami rolls his eyes, still hidden behind his spectacles, ignoring the crude belch. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 AM. Please don’t be late.” He remains seated as Ren stuffs his belongings into his bag and waves goodbye out the door.
Removing his glasses, he leans his head further back on his chair and closes his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand. It’s been a while since he’s taught a lesson, and he’s not accustomed to talking so much. Human interaction can be just as exhausting as fighting off weak curses. Frankly, it’s overwhelming for him at times, being a man of few words on a regular basis.
He opens his eyes and sighs deeply, looking around at the empty room. All alone once again.
--------------------
Tag List: @liliorsstuff-blog (appreciate you! ❤️)
#nanami kento#Kento nanami#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#a bento for kento#daisynik#jjk anime#jjk nanami#nanami fluff#jjk fluff
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It’s kinda cute to see that Bark has a canonical crush on Amy (in the newest comic if you haven’t seen). She’s such a magnet for the stoic, hardy, initially antagonistic types lol. How do you think Shadow would feel to know that Bark was crushing on Amy before anyone else?
In reference to this interaction in IDW’s recent comic for her 30th anniversary:
It was also made apparent in Sonic’s 30th anniversary comic:
Looks like IDW took a cue from Archie and re-canonized Amy’s tendency to get cold easily. Sonic never took the hint...
...but it’s free real estate for other Amy ships. A+.
The bigger question is why a polar bear needs a scarf in the first place. Maybe I’m not supposed to ask that.
Anyway, I wouldn’t say it’s 100% confirmed that it’s a crush. No one ever says it is. He might just think she’s a sweet little girl. Panels like these make it seem like he just thinks she’s a nice kid, like a little sister. You could easily substitute Knuckles in for Bark here:
Blushing is usually used to indicate a crush, but not always. It can also be used to show embarrassment. I personally think he’s just shy because he’s not used to being hugged and hearing things like this:
It’s not surprising that Bark has a soft spot for her. He’s very strong and hangs out with Fang’s group, so a lot of people assume the worst. On top of that, he’s nonverbal, so he can’t really argue against it. She’s the only one who gives him a chance off the bat.
It’s also more appropriate if it’s not romantic, given their implied age gap. I’m glad Sega removed the official ages, but even without exact numbers, I’d be very surprised if an official Sonic publication made an older teenager have a crush on a child. If they did, I think Shadow would hunt him down, lol. I have a headcanon about him going after Storm about it, but Storm actively makes himself a problem. Bark isn’t like that.
Even if another stoic and quiet character developed a crush on Amy, though, I don’t think Shadow would be jealous. I usually imagine Shadow hiding his feelings for Amy, and this is the same situation. He doesn’t act on it. At most, I could see them exchanging a subtle nod of acknowledgement.
They’d just both have good taste. Shadow might have to get used to it, but after that, I doubt he would see a character like that as a “problem.”
Shadow also might just flat-out appreciate Bark. It’s always a relief to have someone else who makes her safety a priority. Even when Bark and Amy “fight,” he outright refuses to hurt her:
(In case anyone needs more evidence that blushing isn’t always romantic in this comic, Amy’s blushing right there in panel three. Something tells me she probably doesn’t see this as a romantic situation.)
And when they’re on the same team, he keeps an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t rush into danger and get out of her depth:
I made a post recently pointing out that Shadow might have helped Amy out in Cryptic Castle because he also notices she rushes into situations she can’t handle alone. She’s a danger magnet whose first ever appearance was getting kidnapped, and it was a long time before that stopped happening. We need more characters who’ll keep an eye on her. I can imagine Shadow and Bark pointing to situations like these and looking at each other as if to say, “Ah, so you’re the reason she made it to adulthood unscathed.” They’d see each other as allies, not competition.
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i think one of the most interesting things to me abt compton despite this only coming through the cracks between canon is that he was in fact a father at least in one way or another. lucy got thrust into the mother role quite abruptly and none of the others have kids
but compton presumably either raised a child like a normal god damn human being would or was maybe an abscent father type if you think the brain explosions would get in the way of that going well. since he is a grandpa. and dogen and sam are extremely "boole but tiny" and "boole but a teenage horse girl". makes me wonder abt his kid.
my personal hc which ive probably explained before but by golly here i go again is i think he did in fact raise a daughter until she was maybe in her late teens to very early adulthood bc that's when Compton's Major Malfunction happened. she's like around truman's age, who was at least at beard growin age by the time bob & helmut got married.
the psychonauts documentary explored a lot of level details for compton that ended up looking and feeling a lot like a toybox, and some of those elements are still in the final cookoff like the doctor's office sliding bead railings, some pillars being made of building blocks, the general cartoonish and kid friendly apperance of the cooking appliances and puppets. i feel like his kid and grandkids are on his mind a lot even if we dont literally see them in his mind while hes Having An Anxiety Attack. mr boole you fascinate me.
#cospn2#hcs#id like to design his daughter someday. not today but someday. my hc at least#shes the worst of the second gen parents but not for lack of trying
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School You in Love
Summary: Eddie and Steve are fifth grade teachers, and decide their classes should finally know they're together.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,984
Author's Note: Based off this little video I saw!
AO3
“Sit down please, Mr. Harrington.”
Even though Steve was now a 30 year old man and a few years into a teaching career, being pulled into the principal’s office made him shake in his boots. Mrs. Josie Danlin was everything he wishes his elementary school principal could have been; kind, helpful, but still demanded respect in a motherly way. When she asked Steve to move from teaching second grade to fifth grade, it was a no-brainer, he’d do whatever she asked, but it meant teaching the class opposite his long-term boyfriend Eddie.
“Are you aware there’s a rumour amongst the kids that you and Mr. Munson are dating?”
Steve scoffed. Kids talked all sorts of nonsense. “Sure, I mean that rumour has been running for years. But you already know that I’m dating Mr. Munson.”
She smiled, nodding along. “I understand that, Steve. Now were you aware that there was a scheme where they were gonna try to lock you in the supply closet during recess to make you ‘talk it out’?”
He blinked. “No, no that’s a new one.”
“Thought it might be. Look, you know I’m more than happy for you and Eddie, and you’re both great at keeping it professional at school. A little too good evidently if you ask me. But you need to shut this down. You know how destructive these kids can get, and the school year is coming to a close; the kids will be off to middle school next year so they don’t care what kind of trouble they can get into. I don’t want anybody getting hurt.”
Steve nodded along. “Right, okay, but I’ve already said we’re not together. I don’t know how much more I can say to them about this aside from making up a fake partner.”
Josie raised her eyebrows at Steve, a sympathetic smile crossing her face. “Do you want to make up a fake partner?”
“No, not really actually. I’d rather them just pester me until the day they graduate.”
“Steve… so why don’t you just tell them?”
He went silent, too stunned to speak. “Wh-wha—”
“You don’t have to of course, that’s totally up to you, but maybe it’s time to shut the rumours down once and for all?”
“I… I’d have to ask Eddie after all, but yeah, yeah maybe we will. You’d be okay if we—“
“Steve.” Josie laughed and took his hand from across her desk. “You and Eddie are two of our most loved teachers here. I don’t care who you date, and I damn well don’t care who knows you’re together. Most of the staff here knows already anyways, if keep keeps the kids from doing something stupid, I’m all for it.”
A smile broke out on Steve’s face. “Yeah, yeah okay, I’ll talk to him tonight then, see what he thinks. Thanks Josie. Um… do you think you could be there with us, if we decide to tell our classes?”
“Of course, I’ll make sure the kids stay respectful and don’t make too much of a fuss.”
🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎
“So I have to talk to you about something.”
Eddie dropped his fork, staring up at Steve with fear in his eyes.
“No! No it’s not bad, I just thought maybe we could carpool in tomorrow?”
Steve could see the gears working in Eddie’s head. His fingers were steepled under his chin, something he did when he was deep in thought, and his brow furrowed in such a way that made him think Eddie would say no.
“Steve, if the kids see us driving in together—”
“I had a meeting with Josie after school.”
“What? Is that why you were late?”
He nodded. “She wanted to meet during my planning time, but I had a stack of book reports to go through so I just talked to her before I left. She thinks we should tell the kids.”
Eddie’s eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. Coming out hadn’t been easy for him as a teenager, and that experience never really went away into adulthood. Steve knew he loved him more than he could say, but after the bullying and the slurs thrown his way in high school, it wasn’t surprising that he had his reservations about who he was out to.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to do that?”
Steve shrugged. “Most of the teachers know anyways, and apparently there was a scheme to lock us in a closet. Five guesses who could have come up with that one.”
“Marco and Leanne for sure.”
“Yup, nailed it.” He pushed the food around on his plate, feeling like he knew how this was going to go. “Eddie if you’re not ready—”
“I want to, trust me I want to so bad, but I just…”
“Don’t worry baby, it’s okay, we don’t have to.”
🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎
The next morning Steve and Eddie drove to school alone, parked at opposite ends of the lot, and made their way to their classrooms, pausing to say good morning like they always did outside their neighbouring classroom doors.
On this particular morning, Eddie noticed a folded piece of paper on his desk atop the attendance form labelled “To Mr. Munson, from Mr. Harrington”.
The handwriting immediately gave away Olivia, one of Eddie’s top students, but he opened it anyways.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
You like me…
And I like you too.
Will you go out with me?
☐ Yes
☐ Definitely!
☐ I love you Mr. Harrington
Eddie quickly made sure nobody was looking as he checked off the last box and set the paper aside.
Lunch time came entirely too slowly for Eddie’s liking, and when it did, Steve wasn’t in the staff room like he normally was. He went looking everywhere for him, but finally found him in the last place he thought to look, his classroom.
“So uh, I think you might be right about needing to tell the kids.” He handed the paper to Steve and watched the smile on his face bubble into laughter.
“Wow, confessing your love for me through a note? What if the teacher found it?”
“Shut up!” Eddie shoved him and sat on his desk. “So maybe tomorrow we could carpool?”
“I’d love to, baby.”
🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎
Steve and Eddie carpooled in the next day, and not one of their students noticed. They decided to tell the students together after lunch, Eddie’s kids all brought their chairs into Steve’s room under the guise of some graduation information; Josie joined them standing off to the side as the two of them stood at the front of the class. Fifty pairs of ten year olds eyed them suspiciously, and suddenly, Steve was nervous.
“Alright, so we need to talk about something very important this afternoon. Mrs. Danlin is joining us to make sure we all behave in a respectful manner.” He looked over to Eddie who nodded to him for encouragement. “Raise your hand if you’ve heard a rumour that me and Mr. Munson are dating.”
The students fell deadly silent as most of them raised their hands. They looked tense, as if they’d be in trouble, but softened as they noticed Steve was smiling.
“Okay. Now raise your hand if you think that rumour is true.”
A few giggles bubbled over from the congregation of kids as some of them raised their hands again.
Steve assessed them all, and motioned for them to lower their hands. “Thank you everyone for your honesty. We wanted to gather everyone here today to clear up the rumours once and for all.” His hands shook a little, but he took a deep breath and pushed on. “It’s true, Mr. Munson and I are dating.”
The class erupted in cheers. Every one of Steve and Eddie’s students were clapping, big smiles on all their faces. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve noticed Eddie wipe a tear away, and he was drawn closer to his boyfriend.
“Alright, alright, settle down. Quiet!” He chuckled as the kids’ excitement settled. “We’ve been together for close to 8 years now, so I think we’re a little bit more than just dating.” The animated chatter started back up again. “Quiet please! Guys, come on, let me finish.” He waited for them to stop once again. “We’re a little bit more than just dating because I am completely in love with him.”
This time, when the class erupted in cheers, neither Steve nor Eddie could hold back their smiles. This was going better than either of them could have planned, it seemed their students were really supportive of them. Steve waited for the class’ cheers to die down entirely before starting once more.
“We’re almost done guys I promise.” His hands shook in earnest now, and he shoved one into his pocket, thumbing the little velvet box. “Last question. I was wondering… who thinks Mr. Munson should become Mr. Harrington?”
This time, the volume of the screams in his classroom was deafening, but Steve couldn’t hear them because he was turning towards Eddie, pulling the box out of his pocket, and sinking down onto one knee.
Eddie covered his mouth, but Steve could still make out the giant smile behind his hand. His shoulders wracked with sobs, but he nodded all the same.
“Will you marry me?” Steve mouthed to Eddie, tears springing to his own eyes.
“Steve!” He wiped his eyes, hair bouncing with the force of his nods. “Of course I will.”
Eddie’s hand shook as Steve took it in his and slipped the engraved silver ring on it. They pulled each other into a hug, Steve lifting Eddie off the ground, and spun him.
Steve wanted nothing more than to kiss Eddie, but he knew it would have to wait. Their students were still shouting excitedly, and now Josie had joined in, unable to contain her own excitement for the two men.
“Okay, okay! Quiet guys, settle down.” Steve’s voice shook, he wiped his eyes and took Eddie’s hand, feeling the addition of the cool silver ring under his thumb. “Maybe I should have waited for the end of the day to do this.”
“Too late now babe.” Eddie whispered, leaning in to kiss him, but stopping in his tracks, remembering where he was. “Thank you for being here Mrs. Danlin.”
“Thank you for sharing all of this with the rest of us.” She said, smiling ear to ear. “And thank you students for being so respectful and encouraging of Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson.” She stepped closer to the two and brought them into a hug. “I’m happy you did it early, gives me time to plan a little party for after school.” She patted them both on the back and left the room.
“Does anyone have any questions for myself or Mr. Munson before we jump back into our lessons for the day?”
A sea of hands rose up. “Sir! How did you start dating?”
“Did you know each other before you were teachers?”
“Do you live together?”
“Do you want to have a baby?”
“Is Mr. Harrington a good kisser?”
Eddie’s eyebrows rose and he put his own hand up. “Okay! Maybe we’ll wait on the questions then. My class, everyone pick up their chairs and single file back to the room.” He turned to Steve, a smirk on his face. “I love you, but you walked right into that one.”
“Yeah, not my wisest decision. I’ll see you after school?”
Eddie nodded. “I’ll come find you, we’ll have to stop by the staff room for whatever monstrosity Josie is planning for tonight.”
“Shit, she did mention that, didn’t she.” Steve dropped his head, hair shading his eyes for a second, then looked back at Eddie. “Get going, I’ll see you later, fiancé.”
Eddie giggled in a way that could only be described as giddy. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I can’t wait to marry you.”
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Carnival of Aros December 2022: Aro adulthood and growing older with the aro community
When I heard that this month's theme for the Carnival of Aros was about getting older, I knew I had to write something from the perspective of someone who has been here a comparatively long time, but it still quite young. I realized I was aro in the spring of 2014, when I was 15 years old, a freshman in high school. I’m 24, now, and while I’m far from being able to call myself an older aro, it does certainly feel that way sometimes.
When I was a little kid, I assumed that I would one day marry, with the two and a half kids and the white picket fence and the whole nuclear family song and dance that I was, of course, expected to strive for. I never held any judgment for people who didn’t have that life, but I didn’t have the knowledge or the self-awareness to ever visualize anything else for myself. As I grew a bit older, into my early teen years, it was something that I just stopped considering entirely. I knew a traditional marriage wasn’t something I wanted anymore, and I didn’t know or really care if that was something that would one day change. By the time I learned what aromanticism was, I had long since concluded that I had never had a real crush before, didn’t want to, and maybe, just maybe, never would—I just hadn’t realized this wasn’t how I was “supposed” to think.
My journey with aromanticism today as an adult looks vastly different compared to eight and a half years ago, partly due to the ways the aro community has grown and evolved since then and partly due to the natural progression of age, wisdom, and circumstance. Being aromantic was really isolating when I was younger, and I was closeted for most of the last decade, aside from a few close friends who knew. As a teenager, my biggest problems were equal parts trying to cope with my peers getting into their first relationships and leaving me behind, and trying to hide the truth from them about their being anything abnormal or mockable about me.
That’s changed as I’ve gotten older, of course. I’ve written about aro adulthood somewhat extensively lately, and the thing about coming to terms with being aromantic—and later, nonpartnering—that blows your whole future wide open. When the path that has been laid out for you in life turns out to be an illusion, you have not only the freedom but the obligation to create a new one, something that will actually make you happy. Unfortunately, you often have to do a lot of clawing and scraping to get there. Much of my adult life thus far has been about trying to prove to other people, whether out of necessity or out of perceived inadequacy, that I am a Real Adult, that I am a complete person with a place in this world, even if I never cross many of those traditionally expected milestones to get there.
As I’ve said, I often feel older than I am when it comes to being aro, simply because I was here at such an early time in the community, watching, lonely. There are folks twice my age who have known they were aro half as long, and at the same time there are kids now younger than I was who are aro themselves and have more than one aro friend at school. In a way, I sometimes felt a little stunted—there were kids now as young as 12 or 13 who were out and proud as aro to everyone they knew, and here I was, a grown adult still too afraid to tell my parents after the better part of a decade, even after moving out and building a new support system on my own.
I know now that of course it didn’t matter, that everyone is on their own trajectory in life and there’s nothing wrong with being in the closet forever, if you need or want to. The truth was, when I was a teenager we didn’t live in a world where I could have been out as aro. My aromantic journey has been inextricable from the shame, guilt, and fear of mockery that came with it, made particularly potent by the environment that came to be on tumblr and the rest of the internet just a year or so after I came to terms with being aro. And I am happy that we have created a world, now, where that doesn’t have to be the case anymore, and I’m proud to have had any small part in creating that world. And I know that this is still only just the beginning.
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Alright, so I did another one of the Ancients parents, in which I retcon my headcanon Dark Cacao backstory a third time, and now he has a mother named Theobroma Cacao Cookie
I’m pretty sure someone else has made a character named Theobroma here, don’t remember if the Cacao part is there too, and I don’t know if it works for a Cookie Run name, but it sounds cooler than Cacao Tree
Also I should probably note, I don’t really have any ideas following this for the other three. I don’t recall if the other Ancients have descriptions that allude much to their ingredients
Anyways so let’s get back to Theobroma. So first off, some of you may recall me making a Theobromine Cookie in the past who was Dark Cacao’s father, but he isn’t “canon” to this, Theobroma is a single mother. Also, some elements of him got worked into her. At least I think
I’ll talk about her design later, I want to talk about her first. Though I will say, I think she looks a bit plain. I will say, this isn’t the only design I have in mind for her, but still, maybe I could have done more? Like at least give her some fur or something
Anyways, so she’s based on this line from Dark Cacao’s Story description, “The last bean, devoid of any sweetness, fell down from a withered branch of a lonely cacao tree growing above the edge of a cliff”. The “last bean” would be Dark Cacao, while the “lonely cacao tree” is Theobroma Cacao
I’m thinking Theobroma lived in a house near a cliff where there was a village somewhere nearby, like in the description. She originally lived away seemingly because the village didn’t like her, but even after they warmed up to her, she still declined to move down to the village, even if she likes it. Nobody but her is sure why
As for why she moved there, I’m thinking that Theo isn’t native to the Dark Cacao Kingdom region, and instead moved in from somewhere else, hence why perhaps Dark Cacao’s young self wore clothes that didn’t seem like they fit the region. Not sure where she’s from, and no one else knows but her, all I know is she’s not from there, which might be part of the reason the village didn’t like her
One big thing I focused on was the “last” part of “last bean”, so my idea is that Dark Cacao was Theo’s last kid, and Dark Cacao is the youngest of a lot of siblings. I think I’ve settled on 6 overall, with Dark Cacao having 5 older siblings. However, Dark Cacao never met his siblings, as by the time of his baking, all 5 of them had already died. None of them made it to adulthood other than Dark Cacao either, the closest any of them getting is teenager
I haven’t figured out what exactly caused each of their deaths though, whether it was different things each time or if it was some related cause, like a hereditary disease. I think I might just stick with different things each time. All I have solidified is that his eldest sibling died because one of his younger siblings was sick, and for whatever reason they couldn’t move them (either bad weather or severe sickness) so Theobroma had him go try and get the village doctor while she stayed with them, but unfortunately he ended up getting attacked by wild beasts before he could reach the village, with his fate only being revealed to the others after Theobroma realized he had been gone far too long and going down to the village herself, only to find he never made it, and a search party finding the body. Also that younger sibling might not have made it out due to the delay
I’m also not sure what to name them either or what their designs look like. All I know is that the eldest had pure white hair, which was supposed to look sort of like the pulp of cacao, but I don’t think Cacao Pulp sounds like a good name, at least compared to the others. Also Ruby Cacao would be one of Dark Cacao’s siblings that died too, maybe the one just before him. Which is quite the downgrade for her I must say. I want to draw them all at some point, I’m just not sure what to do for them, I don’t have many ideas for all 5 of them
Also I’m not sure when they all died. Originally they all died within a couple years of each other in rapid succession, and Theo had Dark Cacao maybe a couple years afterwards, but now I’m thinking to stretch things out a bit, like Dark Cacao and his eldest sibling might have a 30 year difference between when they were baked. So Theo might be rather old when she had Dark Cacao
Anyways let’s get back to Theo again
So Theobroma here seems a very sad and tired woman, and she is, but she wasn’t always. Originally she was a very energetic and relatively jovial person, being somewhere between I think Young Prince Dark Choco and Hollyberry? However this went away after the tragic deaths of all her children, as it deeply affected her and took away her positive nature a d turned her into a shell of her former self, holing herself up alone in her house and wallowing in her grief. This version of her was the version Dark Cacao knew, her former self only being told to him by the villagers that knew her
When she had Dark Cacao, she was very overprotective of him, desperate to not lose another child. She did still try to be a good mother to him, and she taught him to sword fight, but her feelings about her former children still affected her and how she acted. But she hoped that she could at least ensure one of her children could live a full life. Unfortunately, she ended up dying when Dark Cacao was still a child, never being able to see what he became
Dark Cacao didn’t quite understand his mother at the time and why she acted as she did. While he always knew about his siblings, he didn’t exactly understand the impact of their loss on her. While he grew to a bit of a better understanding as he grew older and matured, as well as after he better understood death and the impact it can have on people, it wasn’t until he became a father himself that he really understood what that pain she felt must have been like
So I suppose let’s get back to Theo. Sorry I feel like I’m repeating myself and getting sidetracked when I’m technically not. I just don’t know how to segue into this
Let’s see, so Theobroma is incredibly strong like her son, if not more. She’s also even bigger than him
Felt like I’d have more to say in that section
Anyways, so I’m sure you’ve noticed how I’ve made references to her being a bit off, like her living remotely but never saying why or where she came from. My idea is that she’s where Dark Cacao gets his abnormal traits from, though I don’t know what her origins are myself. Or maybe I should just commit to something instead of keeping things up in the air like this forever
Okay, I think I’m going with her being half dragon or something. She doesn’t look it because shapeshifting abilities or something. But it’s the reason for her incredible strength, size, and occasional slit pupils
She knows this about herself, but she doesn’t tell others, even her children, though that was more because she thought they weren’t old enough to know when they died, and Dark Cacao wasn’t old enough when she did. So possibly those secrets are buried with her. Though also maybe she wrote down her secrets for Dark Cacao to read later when he’s older, since she knew she was dying (she wasn’t killed or anything, she died of natural causes). If so, not sure whether he’s read it
Oh right, I still got to talk about her design. *groan* I just want to get this over with
Okay, so I gave her red eyes, though not the same as Dark Choco’s, because screw it, every generation needs a different eye color (I say this more jokingly, that was the point of my color choice)
I know I said she wasn’t native to the area, and thus an outfit that’s more from the area may not seem suited, she has been living there a long time by this point, so I think she’s allowed to wear a hanbok
I gave her more dark colors to symbolize her mood, as well as because according to my searches, black is associated with death in Korea, so I thought it fit
In her younger outfit she wears brighter colors like white
To be honest, I really like her younger self, and she’s solidified more as the definitive one for me, but I have to remind myself that this version here is the technical definitive version. Which is also why I didn’t draw her younger self, because I needed to remind myself of that. I’m definitely gonna draw it later though
Okay, I’ll be honest, she’s far more of a character than Blessed Cream or Vanilla Bean. Surprise, it’s for the character connected to the Dark Cacao family. She was just supposed to be another one of the parents. But I ended up taking her further and further and now I really like her
But yeah, I think that’s about it. Or more accurately, everything I thought was relevant. I think I skipped a few things, might add them later
But yeah, hope you like her!
#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#cookie run oc#theobroma cacao cookie#my ocs#my art#got the character tag wrong#dark cacao cookie
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Oshi no Ko and Celebrity (more specifically child celebrity with a large tangent on being a public persona)
So in my seasonal anime catch up, I finally watched Oshi no Ko.
Admittedly I was kinda not expecting something that great after they kill off their best character right away. Ai is left to be this great discovering mystery of who was she really when she wasn't being the perfect idol. I can't say I found it extremely profound but if there's something I do like, it makes clear some aspect of the focus on youth in the idol industry.
So like, there's a little bit of ick at points in the series. We meet our adult main character obsessed and possibly in love with a 16 year old idol. Ai herself is quite off putting being treated with some sense of adulthood despite being a teen mom. I still don't know how I feel about Ai overall, she talks in her last moments about wanting to have her kids join her in the industry that quite literally killed her on the day she became an adult. Initially I didn't think much of that aspect until we start to see more characters get added.
We meet characters like the adultified Arima who's already gone through a career fallout by highschool, Minami who is a gravure model (more or less soft lewd photos) already by her freshman year of high school (therefore pressumably started in middle school), Akane who is partially a victim of evil editing, and Memcho pretending to be a teenager to be in the industry (The 20 year age cut off was up until recently the age of legal adulthood in Japan). We see these unusual circumstances where we are meant to recognize these characters as children in questionable situations.
The small arcs Aqua follows in this first season basically all cover where an adult has failed. Questionable agencies trying to hire Ruby, uncaring directors on a show Arima cares deeply about, Akane being unsupported by the adults when she's a victim on online harassment, and so forth.
Aqua is played off as a character with only one goal in mind, to find out who is his biological father so he can get revenge of Ai's death. He's already been long worn down by the industry possibly from a mix of being a reborn adult, growing up with an idol mother, and then after working is the industry in the background while trying to learn of it to find out how to find his father. In contrast to Ruby's eye spark of naive hope for the industry, his eye tends to be sullen and turn black, particularly when he is manipulating the industry for his results.
However, Aqua tends to have a secret secondary goal that he himself isn't fully conscious of which is to not let someone else fall into the situation Ai found herself in. He will avoid connection while also leading change when something harms the other youth talent around him such as flipping the script to give Arima the performance she wanted for her favourite scene or organizing Akane's redemption PR with her castmates. Side note, plenty of talent industry stories tend to focus on ideas that performers hold beef and rivalry with each other all the time where thus far, Oshi no Ko has made that more of an outlier rather having cast members being extremely supportive of each other's work while the higher up are more so the problem. Even things like the maybe one good adult, Yoriko (the mangaka) still wanting to appreciate the adaptation of her series even if it was a subpar production shows how meaningful these relationships tend to be on a human level. Either way, it is always satisfying to see how Aqua try to foster a healthier industry with his more mature understanding.
So manga spoilers from here on out.
Akane's analysis of Ai was the first moment it occurred to me that Oshi no Ko had anything decent to say about the entertainment industry. Ai always gave off the energy of an unrestrained child which is actually what she turns out to be. She is a product of parental abuse who was scouted at the vulnerable age of 12 and quickly was hailed as a major success in that industry, certainly nothing short due to the fact she puts on an excitable and childish personality. She treats her pregnancy with coy jovialness as being described that she might be too small to naturally birth children. She has to be taught concepts like it's okay to say "I Love You" even if you don't mean it. When I play through her scenes, all I can feel is this weird contradiction of childish naivety mixed with disciplined skill. At home she dresses in this motherly way while acting very ditsy while being fully in control as an idol. She somewhat reminds me of the weathernews idol Saya Hiyama, ironically who is in her own scandal right now. If I were to picture Ai's smile in real life, I would imagine it the same as Saya Hiyama's with the always perfectly v like smile showing off her yaeba teeth. Giving this false sense of vulnerability with the watcher when she makes a mistake when she makes a mistake on the weather is somewhat I see Ai to be like except with a more mischievous air.
For another [long] side tangent, being in a personality industry, its interesting to see how fans fail to recognize a curated persona. Back when I spent more time as a cosplayer, I had learned how to act out a persona not only to be in character but also to attract others to you. Maybe the slight ill feeling this series gives me is the reminder of my own experiences as a teen to early adult delicately balancing a believable relatable image while showing only part of myself. There was some sense of that emptiness I felt like Ai's where there was disconnect between the loving emotions I would portray to reality of how unattached I felt (now I know I have BPD though). My relation to the characters lies somewhere between Ai and Memcho. Ai being more like my younger self where as Memcho hits pretty close with her tomboyish look, the bleached hair with the roots growing in, and the bubbly personality and bone structure that helps you get away with appearing younger. It's been a joke among my friends the last few years that I get mistaken for still being in my early to mid 20's despite nearing 30 in a few months and moreso, as an underweight 20 year old, I had experienced a lot of leering eyes determined to believe I was as young as 14 for bizarre and creepy reasons. Some aspect of that perceived youth gives me haunting memories and frustration of arrested development where I struggle to be treated as an adult while on the other side it is in fact part of my current business. One thing that is less thought about artist alley is that you do in fact make choices weather to buy or not based on the seller as well. It's not too rare to see kawaii artists invoking the same energy their art gives in how the present themselves. It's come to the point where I tend to spend a few hundred on a dye and cut right before a new show as well as there being a select wardrobe I pick from every trip I go on. I have a makeup bag always on the ready of some easy to put on products I rarely use outside of events and often a much more larger amount of hair tools to get something of a proper styling. These are things I wear because I love them but they are also almost exclusively used to match the appearance of my booth. Likewise, there is a semi exaggerated persona put on to create a welcoming air to my customers that is tweaked to match the energy of different types. Over Sakuracon, there was an embarrassing moment where I called out to a tiktoker while still switched into a more boisterous energy from a previous customer that I had yet to switch out off and horribly scared them off. It also tends to be easier to pull of this energy during or right after talking to fellow artists as it helps build up the approachable personality, its like we are all doing warm ups together. When I see people like Saya Hiyama pull off multiple instances of being so embarassed that she trips over her words with a big giggly smile, I truly admire the persona but am a bit shocked how much people have bought into it being fully real. Especially in the internet age, its very interesting to watch the gap between the viewpoint of creators and fans/consumers. While I'm much more of a smaller niche online personality, I do have behind the scenes experience with instragrammers in the 70k-160k range and the various parasocial experiences they have gone through. It's also a space where you get so accustomed to the mentality of an influencer (for lack of a better word) that it's hard to deal with someone not versed in that space; either from people who take internet clout as a vanity hobby or those who are actively seeking online privacy. Ai's double nature of being seen as the genius idol while feeling like a deceiving liar resonates pretty deeply on this front. There is a lot of sacrifice in identity that you give your fans in order to in return earn their respect and by extension business. Like Ai, I try to keep some note of regulars I meet at events but with going to multiple back to back events, it can get hard to keep hold of all that information.
Tumblr told me enough of this tangent so we'll move onto the short manga talk I meant to give.
From reading the wiki, It turns out that the twin's father is another actor who was molested in his childhood and in fact birthed a child at 11 as a result of that rape. Seeing as he is also the big bad, it points to the fact the focus on the story is not just the trauma industry workers go through but more specifically the abuse of power younger workers tend to face. While Aqua at current seeks revenge, I would not be surprised if the end goal is to process the line of trauma that has been dealt through out the show. Even if Aqua is a teenager, his previous life is thus far the oldest in terms of lived experience and possibly even older than Aqua's father at the present. He's had the most lived experience and the most chance to also live outside of entertainment that others have more so grown up in. The twin's father is currently an abuser most likely from the result of his own unprocessed abuse and to allow a new generation to grow up in a better industry than he or Ai did, it starts with stopping the past from repeating. Ultimately I think the best end state for Aqua is likely going to be some form of Manager or talent public relations keeper. The show doesn't necessarily show any sign of something like that but that would be the best route for such things.
Ultimately Japan's idol culture in reality needs to change as well as checking our parasocial expectations of celebrities. It's fair to have some critical views on celebrities in terms of say ethics but it's also important to keep in mind that anything put out in the world has some biased narrative, especially if its any form of production. The reality Ai portrayed as a dedicated idol was a lie, the reality LoveNow showed of Akane being a selfish girl was a lie. Maybe the most important lesson I've learned is not to put stock in anything that revolves around the presentation of a real person. Often I will admire and adore fictional creations but not it's creator for this reason. Those images of people you've never met on a personal level never hold up to the truth and can be hurtful on both ends. People are not myths, they are humans.
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UM pleek advice i’m turning twenty soon nd i’m scared 🥹💔 ageism eating me alive i feel like i havent lived my teen years because Brown Parents just idk… IDK!!!! im over reacting i think but im crying everyday like my youth was stolen from me cuz abuse and insecurity and pandemic but idk what to do now i feel so lost and seeing ur posts u just seem so smart and excited about life and exploring urself so i come humbly for advice 😞
i know this feeling bc i have the same parents but like i really mean it when i say life doesn't start for a lot of people until they're 25-30+
i was blessed with older siblings and cousins in my life and pretty much all of them say the same thing. my cousins did all the fun teenager things and even so they're all so much happier now then they ever were before.
you're never gonna be 15 again, that's true. but the life you imagined or dreamed of living at 15 isn't the only life you'll ever live and really isn't even that important. you have a romantic idea of it because you never experienced it.
but you have the rest of your life. do you know how long that is? you're only 20. that's nothing. 25 is nothing. 30, 31, 32. you're just starting in comparison to the rest of your life. the only reason you feel that way is because you're suffocated and the idea that being young is everything but it simply isn't. statistically if you only live to be 60, you have 2 entire thirds left to exist.
don't listen to people on the internet who can't fathom being over 17. adulthood is only a curse if you glorify being young. and you're not even an adult. any real adult thinks you're a kid. the only person who thinks your old is a person who's sitting in calculus one who eats lunch at 10am. why are you listening to them anyway?
i don't especially like being young honestly. there's nothing i look forward to more than getting older every year. i want to be 50 with a garden. i want to spend the rest of my life being a good person. i am so comforted by the fact i still have all this time.
you are so lucky to be alive. you must believe that the time you have left is a gift.
being young is only easy for those who come from privilege. but any person with responsibilities knows how suffocatingly lonely it can be trying to care for yourself and make something of your life.
and it's because of that gradual reality that you have to believe life hasn't reached it's potential. that this isn't your limit. if you're incessantly thinking that you've wasted so much time, than how will you grow? if you're constantly chasing at teenage years that you'll never get again, how will you learn to love the fully realized version of yourself?
if you spend your 20's looking back how can you look forward to the rest of your life? is it fair to yourself to ignore all that's made you who you are, just because you missed out on certain experiences?
look at how far you've come. look at how much it's taken you. look at all this life you have left to keep pushing. i know it feels like you're meandering, but the virtue of living is gaining experience. every minute you engage the world is meaningful to your life and this isn't a hope thing but a universal truth. it is the only facet of existence that has been respected since the beginning of civilization. experience that you can only gain now by opening your eyes to whats around you.
life is hard now. you are going to do your best. and maybe your best is ugly. it never feels good enough. it's not as good as what other people do. but it's yours, so solely. and if all you ever do is worry about the life you haven't lived instead of cherishing the life you have, you're going to feel miserable and you don't have to feel that.
you'll never be 15 again not once. you'll never know what that's like and it sucks. i won't tell you to feel fine about what you might've missed because i know and i get it.
but maybe you only want to be 15 because you think it would've changed who you are now. maybe you think the you now isn't good enough.
but you are. and it is. and there's nothing to be afraid of. every day of living despite it's many solitudes is worth it. even the worst of your tomorrows are to be cherished. you are so young. a drop in the massive of sea.
but that means you can go anywhere and do anything. with time, with patience, with struggle, with tears. you have now and tomorrow. between then nothing will change. you will do it a thousand times, and then you will look back and suddenly be so different. this is your finicky existence.
the only way to not be afraid of getting older is believing with your heart that living is meaningful. count your blessings and celebrate your small joys. you have the rest of your life to do that. i think that alone is something worth celebrating.
#return to sender#i think about my past a lot#i suffered a lot#i will never gain those years back#but it's because of that i can wake up and say#im okay. im alright. there's still time#i struggle because i have to do much on my own#i cry a lot. i get sad. i feel miserable#im a human with ups and downs just like you#ill do it again tommorrow#with time i can say look at all the life ive lived#and i want that#i want to look back at myself when im much older and think#look at the poor girl. she didn't know what was ahead and she suffered so much#she went through so much for me. to be here#sometimes you're your own big sister#make yourself proud and hold your hand#live your life slowly and steadily#there's nothing to be scared of and there's nothing wasted#not a single moment you've lived was a waste. not one#you have all this time to be the version of yourself you look up to#your whole entire life to that#i think that's exciting#and i want that more than anything#so i live everday and do it little by little#and i fuck up and make mistakes but i always know there's tommorow and that makes me so happy#sorry this wasn't advice as much as it was me shaking you by the shoulders#but im really passionate because i hate seeing people my age talk with one foot out the door#it's miserable to think you've wasted your life when you haven't at all#don't be an active particpant in your misery
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Chip ’n Dale: The Dates Don’t Add Up!
The film begins in 1982, and we’re told that Dale was joining Chip’s school “in the middle of third grade”. That would make Chip and Dale roughly nine years old.
Then Dale’s narration tells us, “By high school, we were headlining the talent show ... after graduation, we packed our bags and headed to California.”
Based on the previous date given, we’d expect the year of their graduation to be 1991, when they were eighteen. And all the auditions and the filming of the Rescue Rangers cartoon should have happened in their subsequent years of adulthood.
But here’s where things get weird.
We’re told that they wrap up filming the third season of Rescue Rangers in 1990.
A full year before graduation.
When Chip and Dale should still only be seventeen.
How has that happened? How can Dale say he and Chip graduated high school if Rescue Rangers was being made while they should still have been in high school?
Well, I think there are two possible answers. And they both have to do with the fact that Dale’s narration is revealed to be part of his vlog.
The first option is that Dale is lying about the dates. It’s possible that he and Chip were actually older than nine years old in 1982. Dale could be lying about his age so he doesn’t seem too old and “past it” to the online followers he’s trying to impress.
The second option is that Dale is lying about graduating high school. He and Chip could have started their freshman year (1987/88), headlined the talent show as freshmen, and then dropped out to run away to California. If they left near the start of their freshman year - around Christmas in 1987, perhaps - that would still give them a bit of time to go for auditions, land the Rescue Rangers gig, and film the first season in time for its official release in March 1989.
And then the present-day Dale would lie about graduating high school to try to set a good example to his younger fans. “Remember, kids, stay in school!” Or maybe he would just be embarrassed about not completing his high school education.
I personally like this second option more, because I like the idea of Chip and Dale being daring teenagers who risk everything for their big break, get lucky, blaze brightly, and then crash and burn and spend the rest of their lives picking up the pieces. There’s just something poetically tragic about that kind of story.
But I’d be interested to hear how others deal with this date issue!
#chip n dale rescue rangers#chip n dale 2022#chip n dale movie#chip n dale#chip and dale#chip x dale#chip maplewood#dale oakmont#rescue rangers
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(vent about how people are weird to minors on the internet so i put it in a read more)
the more i get settled into adulthood the more resentful i grow towards certain other adults on the internet. i grew up on the internet with virtual pet forums since elementary school, and in high school it became my main, if not only, source of consistent social interaction. back when i was a kid i had a lot of confusion and internal conflict about things i saw - in my head, flirtatious 'jokes' from adults to minors, adult-minor NSFW roleplay, and adults encouraging minors on their NSFW posts/drawings (the most common things i saw, since y'know, very few people outright say "i'm a pedophile and i am going to groom you") were all incredibly weird and creepy but everyone else (adults i trusted, people i liked) either tolerated or played along with it so it was hard not to think that i was also supposed to just accept it. that was just what the internet was like; it's a fun game we all play because that's our culture! it's cool and hip to make sexual jokes towards minors and it's totally fine for adults and minors to share kink conversations together! (sarcasm) and if you don't play along, you risk alienation...
the older i get the more i see how much of a kid i was. i'll occasionally search for old posts that i made in high school and i cannot recognize that person, who was so sweet and immature and forgiving. i, who still holds memories of being that person, can see how childish and mentally undeveloped they are; how the fuck could any reasonable adult think that it's appropriate to have sexual conversations and make "lewd jokes" at that kid? in my memory, as a teenager you're already pretty capable of conscious decision, but then i look back and see how insecure and malleable of a person i was, which i very much attribute to age/puberty. i used to think that maybe it was fine because as a teen, i'm not so far off in age from an adult. as an adult, however, i can see how drastic that gap in mental capacity is. and i can't understand how any other adult can so ignorantly flirt with a minor, as if they don't understand that gap.
i'm incredibly lucky in that i was never directly groomed, never entered a relationship with an adult as a minor, never did ERP etc. and even so am still disturbed by it greatly. it's not like the problem has gone away; people will frequently excuse groomers or fucking creeps because "they're my friend". grow a backbone maybe? but it never ends, bro. these creeps will always have a platform protected by their other popular friends because of what? "They're my friend, they're nice to me, they make good art" - who the hell cares. if i could give advice to my younger self it would be to snap years earlier, stick to your guns, and that it's okay to despise people even if that means you'll get alienated, because these wishy-washy "it's fine because we're friends" motherfuckers are not people you want to be around anyway. goddamn.
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Spunch Boob is such a good little man. Cutie Pie. Sweetheart boy. His design in the Patrick show? Okay so basically he’s baby. (Why does the Patrick show convey cute younger SpongeBob better than Kamp Koral, which is about cute younger sponge Bob? He is always adorable but y’know) anyway cherish the Spinge may he and his friends be happy
Spunchblop beloved💕 cutie patootie little yellow square. I'd sell my soul to him (I think I already have) he deserves everything good in his life <3
His design in the patrick star show is god tier. Its soooo cute. It was designed by Sherm Cohen who worked on the show in the early seasons.
I admit I was hoping his patrick star show designed was more nerdy. Like that nerdy teenage sponge photo spongebob showed in goons on the moon. But the patrick star show design was just too cute to stay sad about.
Anyways idk kamp koral is more like a spongebob 2 (Doug Lawrence literally called that) kamp koral spongebob just doesn't have much to him. You remove SB's adult traits (what made him so iconic was being an adult with childish traits) you're just left with a regular kid. That wouldn't be bad on its own. But they disnt really replace his adult traits. He just feels like a more bare bones version of spongebob. We don't see much cool firsts (maybe jellyfishing but we know he's going to achieve that regardless as an adult, so there's no mystery or anything to it, would've been better to see WHY he loves jellyfishing so much and reveal stuff that we wouldn't get to see in the main series)
There's just not much to it. His design isn't much spectacular. He just looks like a smaller spongebob. His movie design was at least a little more unique. His tv show design looks too similar with his regular adult self look.
That's not even mentioning how the atmosphere of kamp koral is just regular spongebob without the advantages of adulthood. Sponge can't explore his surroundings as freely because he's a child. He's kept within the kamp. It feels pretty limited. He's in the spotlight just the same as the main series but he can't do as much. It's like a more limited main series. Half the time the episodes feel like a watered down version of the main series.
We don't get to see spongebob as much in the patrick star show but when we do, it feels pretty special. I think its an advantage that the show is from Patrick's pov. We get to see things through his eyes and we get to see sponge when he's not in the spotlight to the viewer. He isn't as excitable. He's cool and calm but he's a pretty amusing teenager to watch. He's also still in that half way point where he's not quite an adult but not quite a child like in the main series. We get to see his cool firsts. First time driving a boat. His interest in trying to get a job. Him being sorta fixated on spatulas. Him seeing a pineapple for sale. But he's not the focus. We see more geeky traits shine through like his love of comic books which doesn't get touched as much in the main series as often. He's more down to earth and a bit timid in the patrick show which is nice to see. He comes off as much much cuter.
Also while we're in bikini bottom. It feels different since everything is sorta bended to how patrick sees things. So there's stuff you usually wouldn't see. And while they're still kids, they aren't as limited as little kids are. They can walk around and explore. Literally taking a time machine to the past xD there's more possibilities for story telling.
I know its not a huge comparison but the small differences really sell his character for me and he feels more like someone you'd actually be friends with in the patrick show.
#Im just rambling#It doesn't make much sense but here ya go#Ask#the spongebob connoisseur#spongebob#Kamp koral#the patrick star show
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