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sugar-petals · 5 months ago

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🌹 KIBBE types || Why Hyunjin is a 𝒮𝑜𝒻𝓉 Dramatic

↪︎ INTRO :: Welcome to another lengthy Kibbe Body Type analysis. Today, I’ll discuss Stray Kids’ Hyunjin, who is certainly among the most beautiful men of our times 🌹

Across the web he’s been typed as a [Soft] Dramatic, Dramatic Classic, and Flamboyant Natural respectively — I make my case for SD here in bite-sized illustrated points. Enjoy!

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I. ANALYSIS 🌹

why he’s in the dramatic type family

hyunjin’s SD features & fashion

comparison to FN/DC/D + other members’ types (Chan, Lino, Han, Felix)

why he fits the versace look

II. CONCLUSION 🌹

hyunjin as an archetype and GNC icon

shifting beauty standards

thoughts on kibbe type distribution in skz/k-pop generally (do successful groups feature types from all 5 kibbe categories?)

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why he’s in the dramatic family

Needless to say, Hyunjin is likely part of the Big Three (D, SD, FN) or a Dramatic Classic due to his notable vertical line. Like all of these yang types, his model physicality is hard to overlook.

At 5′11, he’s already tall and close to the 6´0 threshold on paper, but he appears even taller mostly. People surely wouldn’t describe him as petite or barely medium in height. I heard through the grapevine that 5′11+ is Kibbe’s cutoff for male yin types who have short vertical lines:

Especially as in South Korea, the male average height is estimated to lie between 5´7 and 5´8½. That would be their Classic type benchmark. Lee Know is commonly typed as Soft Classic at 5′8. I agree with the typing: He looks great in sophisticated, clean, standard black tie with waist emphasis and suave fabrics (yin). All C category looks suit him, less is more.

Hyunjin appears taller and bolder congruently, seemingly taking up twice as much space as most Soft Gamines like Felix (SG is Kibbe’s most petite type next to the Romantics, they are the Big Three’s opposite). His physical frame is easily noticed first.

His extremities are fairly narrow, though. At his height, only one Image ID category looks like that, in fact: D types, the longest legs of the Kibbe system. Slim and streamlined, Hyunjin embodies sharp yang.

And he fits their reputation: Like all Dramatics, he does visually intimidate. His appeal can be described as intense, towering, and in your face (D), not as bluntly rounded, wide, sporty (N) or subtle and detached (C). Changbin being from the Natural family, the difference is quite stark. Changbin is frame dominant, Hyunjin is vertical first.

There’s an edge, he’s square and tall, not bevelled, not all-round symmetrical, not tiny, nor softly round. Hyunjin isn’t fully mesomorph nor endomorph either, but slenderly column-like with longer bones (D), which tends to reflect in his dance/stage presence. Very angular.

SKZ’ concert outfits can be quite theatrical in a Kibbe and aesthetic sense, it suits him well. Kibbe calls the Dramatic element theatric because literal drama/theater in the arts relies on tall actors with exaggerated makeup & features that can still be seen in the last row. D types are easily spotted from a mile away.

Let’s do the reverse: Zooming in, typing by detail. Tell-tale sign of a D type: Hyunjin’s hands/fingers are long and slim. FN’s hands are broad and less dainty/slim, if not huge sometimes. Classics are “regular”. His extremeties are not, we see bone structure first.

Calves, hips, underarms, too. All very yang. Not short, not soft, not balanced, not sturdy, not contrasted, just elongated and slimmed. I can hear people say it’s FN’s dramatic undercurrent, but it’s not an addition, it’s his main thing.

Test it with outfits: Kibbe is about matching similar things to create harmony, which creates beauty. Hyunjin’s most famous looks are all angular like he is. They mirror his frame. His artistic alter ego is as fittingly dramatic-themed as it gets. Sharp asymmetric corners everywhere:

how his yin undercurrent manifests

Now that we established his Dramatic base, let’s see how his yin undercurrent shows. Outfit test again, because it’s fun: Especially opulent and dark-colored SD lines overwhelm all Classics and Naturals. But Hyunjin, never. Just another Thursday for him, he can do it all.

And either way, his lush, super-prominent facial features are the waving flag for SD. They pair so well with glisteningly adorned yin styling. The hair could be more contrasted (= yang) here, but you get the gist.

He even has a semblance of double curve, which is elongated in SDs. FN has a broad ribcage > hourglass, Pure D has a straight, streamlined body. DC has no curve. But SD looks great with the waist marked. Only then does the outfit become “Hyunjin-esque” lmao! And it puts the focus on his face.

Hyunjin is far more yin-oriented than D, DC, FN. He wears Romantic and otherwise gnc clothing so well. You could douse him in jewels. SD is the only type among the Big 3 that can pull off TR decor. Modern Hanboks are often yin-themed (SC, TR, SD...). He’s born to wear it.

SD borrows its yin from R, yes. But as I see it, the infamous “homme/femme fatale” Theatrical Romantic type is SD’s younger sister. Simply due to TR’s sharp yang Dramatic influence. Hyunjin is easily a `sexy TR with more vertical´, and tall homme fatale is exactly what he exudes. An SD face says “femme but I’ll eat you up”.

That doesn’t mean that if you made TRs like Jimin or Han more elongated, they’d look like Hyunjin. Ofc not. Besides no person ever fully resembling another, Han is yin first (rounded face, small waist), and Hyunjin is yang first (chiseled body, long limbs). SD is gigantic next to TR.

However: Added to how Korean men tend to be on the smaller side already, and SD still points toward R and is the least towering of the Big Three most of the time, Hyunjin is still less gigantic than Pure D and FN — even if he looks tall by himself or next to G types like I.N, Felix, etc. Next to FN Dua Lipa in heels below, next to D types in the second pic.

For SD, Kibbe says overdressing is virtually impossible, as long as their narrow vertical line is honored. Unlike Classics, Hyunjin is certainly the “more is more” type. Minimalism wouldn’t do him justice. All-out dark luxury and ornamentation is peak SD aesthetic.

As above, and like in Han’s or Taemin’s case (both are TR), all of his outfits are elevated by belts. A purely yang type couldn’t wear this convincingly or comfortably. But with his small waist, belts are needed to keep the outfit together. Again, he can’t overdo it.

Finally, his feet are long and yang, but the toes appear yin and rounded, softly padded. The gentle, fleshy undercurrent of SD shows here, just like in his face. I’m a Pure Dramatic, my toes are thin and elongated, and my face is taut. SD has less structured feet, even if they can be bony. That’s why Natural category boots look so heavy on him, DC shoes appear regular, but elongated boots that emphasise vertical suit his outfits. He rarely wears SD shoes, but as always, the more glam, the better.

why he fits the versace SD aesthetic

It’s no coincidence he became a Versace ambassador. Donatella — despite being a tiny Flamboyant Gamine at 5´2 — herself dresses like a Soft Dramatic often, and loves supermodels embodying the shiny Diva Chic, it’s the brand’s entire theme.

Just like D & G and Mugler celebrate TR, Chanel and Gucci revere Gamines, Armani worships yang types (D, DC), and Dior suits Soft Classic, Versace lionizes SD, Italy’s Kibbe archetype. Bold patterns, sharp shoulders, black, waist, long lines.

Versace and Hyunjin’s best signature style are based on the severe long, black vertical look, angular and stark. Head to toe! The velvet fabric ad glossy boots are also quite SD.

By constrast, Versace doesn’t base itself on the flowing mix´n´match, wide lines and cozy fabrics of Naturals. That would be, say, Urban Outfitters or FILA. The BTS campaigns show of how casual FN/N is. No coincidence how RM and JK are positioned center, they are SN and FN. Brands will always clock which types instinctively fit the aesthetic.

Like all designers searching for a muse, I think Donatella looks for models that symbolize what her own contrasted/angular FG type doesn’t feature: Extreme vertical, a consistent essence (as opposed to Gamine’s mix of D and R lines), and yin. Thus, Versace’s muse is SD. Hyunjin perfectly fits the role. He is tall and radiates decadent splendour.

why he’s not flamboyant natural

Some FN clothing suits him, yes, as SD and FN are neighboring types. You can always steal from your closest Image IDs and pull it off to a certain degree. It accommodates his vertical, after all. But again, he can go even more fashion forward, and isn’t known for his leisure looks like, say Namjoon (FN) or Jungkook (SN). FN clothing looks casual on all other types. FN clothing on an FN looks like a million bucks.

Some FNs have soft yin features, but on SD, they stand out. Hyunjin’s go-to makeup look is not understated like Kibbe would recommend for the N family. Full lips, strong brows, sharp chin, sharp smokey eyes, contoured nose. His face shape is slightly more elongated than wide to begin with, the eyes aren’t wide-set like it’s often the case for Ns. His signature style is long hair, wether straight or wavy: but pulled back (D), not big and wild and free (FN).

The FN (and DC) outfits he wears the best are all black, head to toe. Which is a D characteristic! The drape of the fabric is similar to SD, but the materials are still reading as casual and wide on him. FN clothes look huge on all other Kibbe categories and hide the body, but on all Naturals they look stylish and showcase their frame dominance. FN is oversized on Hyunjin, especially the upper body. SD might have a T-silhouette, but not the FN ribcage. Casual clothes are snug on actual FNs.

Vice versa, Hyunjin makes the most artificial-looking, least casual aesthetic seem entirely taken for granted on him. His silhouette asks for emphasis in the middle of the body than just the shoulders (yes, SD does need shoulder emphasis!). The FN style leaves his legs looking too slim by comparison, as the top part winds up being too baggy.

That couldn’t happen to a Natural like Chan who fills out skinny pants easily. He needs the heavy fabrics, chest, arm, and shoulder accommodation like air. Stage looks are heavily manicured; he becomes a different person — Chan looks good, but he’s most at home in cozier looks, and most known for it, too. It balances his body.

Test jeans (N) versus satin (R): Which is more well-dressed? SD is about how far you can go, N is about how relaxed you can go. I think jeans is good, but underwhelms here and there. Plain satin lacks structure on him, too, which is why R is only his undercurrent. It requires the angular tailoring of D to incorporate yin fabrics in his wardrobe. But you could still throw more jewelry on him! Gala/dinner/red carpet dressing is so easy for SD. The right-hand outfits are fantastic. The colors pack a punch, too. SD needs heavy duty [winter] hues, regardless of their personal color.

So, in stage outfits, he wears sharp shoulders well. FN has larger, protruding, rounded shoulters that do not carry pointed Dramatic corners well. No sharpness here, just massive soft yang muscles, eg. Namjoon and Shownu. Worlds apart from Hyunjin. SD is the fiercest slayer ever, FN is a complete machine.

Any impression that he has Kibbe width is caused by the T-Shape most SDs have, an illusion created by their small waist making the shoulders look prominent by comparison.

Stiff fabrics that hold their shape (=D) are key to his best outfits, not coarse/woven FN fabrics or DC tweeds. fN are the kings and queens of athleisure. SD is underdressed in FN. It needs lavish draping and bnw contrast (=D element mixed with yin). He looks great in it:

SD is a naturally androgynous type. It fuses a tall model body with a soft yin face. Think Austin Butler, Shawn Mendes, Lil Nas X, BTS’ Jin. But FN is as masc as it gets. Think Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Hugh Jackman, RM, Minho (SHINee), Chanyeol. FN can be humongously broad when trained! SD bulks up, but their narrow, delicate vertical still shows first. And Hyunjin is shredded to the gods, mind you.

His legs showcase thin D bone structure. Congruently, he wears pointed toe shoes better than rough and ready FN ones (sharp, black shiny boots, his signature). Even if they have a sharp yang undercurrent, FNs still have more substantial N bones by comparison. When FN works out, their frame becomes even more biased towards the upper arms, shoulders and thighs, where SD becomes leaner first, and just more defined overall. Hyunjin’s legs aren’t blunt, they are extra long (sharp yang) with softly wide flesh (yin undercurrent) on top. FN is bulkier, stronger-looking like RM. And Hyunjin is a main dancer!

In short, trained FN idols are basically closest to bodybuilding contest winners because they look so broad and vigorous, while SD idols could win a pageant because they’re so beautiful, not rugged and hypermasculine like FN. Hyunjin is muscular, but you don’t notice broadness first, but his gorgeousness and model height.

FN benefits from earth tones + softening the hair color, while all Dramatics are recommended to go darker, more uniform in shade. Contrast works miracles for Hyunjin, black hair or completely bleached white is his forte. Muted colors undersell him. FNs will pass as a natural muted blonde or light brunette, while the D black and white color scheme don’t flatter them as much. Hyunjin definitely needs the extreme.

why he’s not pure dramatic

Pure Dramatic fits his proportions, it looks great on him (proof that D is his family) but the certain something is missing. It conceals his body rather than adapting to his shape. SD is never boring, always memorable (!), the longer you look the better it gets (minus the whitewashing on the right). SD is the right “challenge”.

The fact that Hyunjin can handle so much glamour whereas Pure Dramatic best sticks to the all-black column look without the glitter and diamonds makes him secondary yin. SD can lean into (Theatrical) Romantic, but on a tall scale. The jewels, the glitter, the soft fabrics, you can put all of this on him. The big florals, too!

Pure D is enjoyable in how contrasted and proportional it us, but it seems more boring than his stylists playing it up and adding more of a genderless element without making it classical drag art; it’s his specialty. His roster of SD hairstyles is endless and we all love it. The wavy ponytail below shoulder length (SD can go even longer anyway).

Pure D lines also don’t lend enough definition to his face. Wearing one’s Kibbe type HTT (head to toe) naturally makes the face pop, as its surroundings are harmonious. He will be too gaunt in too-straight hair and too-stiff fabrics, the SD volume is missing. E.g. Sehun and Wonwoo (Pure Dramatics) wear this better.

why he’s not dramatic classic

His insane proportions and remarkable face also disqualify him as any Classic. C styling looks good on everyone as it is the midpoint of the Kibbe spectrum and thus accommodates all types. He can pull the plain white dress shirt off, but only with sufficient accessorizing (SD). C drowns in SD, but C jackets are like crop tops on SD (red carpet image below).

In general, his body is not balanced — small waist, very narrow legs, prominent facial features, etc — enough to be described as average. Nothing strikes you about Classics, they are subtle and perfect. It’d be harder to draw Lee Know from memory than Hyunjin. All Dramatics stand out. Classics blend in, staying understated, visually embodying the “handsome, cold yet elegant gentleman”.

how he compares to any other types

Kibbe is about comparing Image Identity: Hyunjin could never be the sporty guy next door like SN Chan; he could never be the SG brand of “short and sweet” (think Sabrina Carpenter, SG) like Felix. Hyunjin has the tall contrasted look of sharp yang types. SD is the dark and sensual god king, SG is the lovely elven prince (yet both have yin lips).

Hyunjin’s ability to ace high-effort styles is only restricted by his lack of Gamine essence, which is K-Pop’s main mode. G types have few rules except breaking the line, SD requires rule-abiding. The floor length, the belts, the longer hair, the intense colors.

G lines turn to kitsch on SD, it is too “youthful“ for him to maximize the potential of SD. Eclectic Gamine lines are too short. G looks ‘cutesy/fun’ on all other types except on Gamines, who look stylish and cool in them, like FG J-Hope. Everything is ugly unless Hyunjin wears it as they say, but G is too hit and miss (and not “Hyunjin-esque” 😄).

Finally, Romantic is too delicate for him. It needs more oomph and “overstyling”. R is not risky enough for Hyunjin! Yes, he is secondary yin. He looks dainty in it. But it works better with yin guys like Felix, Jimin, Woozi, Wooyoung, Suho, Xiumin, you name it. R clothing looks corny on all other types, but on TR/R/SG it looks flaming hot. Pair Romantic’s velvets and pastels and crystals and transparent fabrics and sparkles and ruffles with Dramatic edges and it works for Hyunjin:

conclusion

Since Kibbe has these type-specific names that set a certain tone or theme: I think luxurious “Divo/Deus Chic” (SD) fits Hyunjin best. As in `godly´ man, since Deus was the male operatic lead, historically, and Diva the goddess. Kibbe has no men’s equivalent of “Diva Chic” so I figured `Deus´ was quite fitting, as Hyunjin does look like one would imagine a seductive deity.

I see why many type him as Pure D and FN, and he can’t go wrong with DC either if the vertical line is kept, either. He can embody those three essences through acting, styling, working out. But the above-and-beyond ornate SD image sums him up well and dresses him to his fullest.

He’s close but not quite the masculinely austere Pure D, Kibbe’s “Regal Sir” (D), who tends to be the most mature-looking, dry/stern type, far from Hyunjin’s genderbending visual that effortlessly breaks every boundary of what is considered menswear. He stands out from the common “Spitfire” Gamine idol aesthetic, too (small, lean, youthful, `doll-like´ face — think Taeyong, Jennie, or Yoongi), which makes him so recognizable.

He’s modelesque, moreso than the leisurely, Herculean yet relaxed boho “Free Spirit” (FN), or the understated yet sophisticated “First Gentleman” (DC) who stands at a more medium height and excels in spartan clothing. Most SD men are chronically underdressed, Hyunjin became famous because he barely ever is (props to the stylists!). I love this ID on him, and it has many options, just a feast for the eye.

I thought about Taemin successfully carving out a niche for himself as a sensual Theatrical Romantic, heavily breaking with mainstream masculinity. Or Lisa (her type is debated, but we can all agree she’s yang-leaning) being known for her tomboy look pre-fame and later blowing up astronomically for her concepts that have no time for the submissive Asian girl trope. They both defied the expected norm, aka FN or FG male idol, SG female idol. In a similar manner, SKZ having so many yin subtypes is probably what made them so appreciated for their lavish GNC styles — and the big stage/a music video is really where you can wear all of this to the max.

If you think about it, they have yin types in all of the 5 main Kibbe categories! TR Han, SG Felix, SC Lino, SN Chan + Changbin, SD Hyunjin, like how? Perfectly distributed, talk about range! No wonder they can do any concept. Hyunjin and Felix being the most known for genderless fashion is likely due to SD being physically impossible to miss and SG standing out as they are so petite (think Woozi from Seventeen, best example). Kibbe is onto something when he made sharp yang and soft yin the end points of the spectrum.

For the stylists, it must be hard to find a balance between dressing the Naturals VS the several Romantic-leaning members, and everyone in between. They do a tremendous job though most of the time imo, it’s refreshing to see SKZ’s fashion style having courage and forward-thinking instead of catering to a conservative worldview: Not to mention the many contemporary, low quality menswear design landscapes which are nothing short of underwhelming. SKZ create a visual spectacle, that’s one of the many reasons why they stay relevant to the public. I don’t think a group mostly consisting of say Classics could execute their theatrical stage displays convincingly. Example: Wolfgang worked because Chan is Soft Natural. Felix’ runway debut worked because the outfit was Soft Gamine. Hyunjin became a sex symbol as soon as he grew his hair long (a Dramatic characteristic, yin `feminine´ hairstyles are actually short in Kibbe’s system! Think TR Hwasa’s iconic wavy bob).

So, maybe one crucial ingredient, besides other factors, to a successful group is having members from all Kibbe 5 main IDs? To give each a recognizable/particular wardrobe, showcase height differences, be able to stay flexible with concepts, and further emphasize the concept of group roles? If we’re talking male groups in general, EXO has all Kibbegories except a strong R department, but therefore more yin subtypes. The literal exact same goes for ATEEZ and TXT. BTS has at least one Romantic (Jimin), Gamine (Yoongi), Classic (V), Natural (Jungkook), and D type (Jin) featured. That effect is even more pronounced in Seventeen (they almost have all the 13 types, it’s insane) and of course, within NCT we find it all, I mean the numerical chances of them having each Kibbe type present are high anyway lmao!

And of course, SHINee is THE most balanced group: Minho FN, Key SD, Onew SN, Jonghyun DC, Taemin TR! Yes — I am aware Key and Jonghyun are typed as Flamboyant Gamines frequently. Those aren’t bad typings at all, especially since SHINee often did and successfully does a FG concept. But as I see it, Key wears and exudes the Divo aesthetic like no other, and Jonghyun is easily associated with crisp and elegant suits. So even if they aren’t SD and DC, FGs can be type chameleons, as we saw with G-Dragon who’s portrayed every Kibbegory in the book. Long story short and pun intended, let’s crack the code: SHINee being Kibbe allrounders could also be a reason why they are timeless.

The veracity behind racist stereotyping à la „they all look the same“ unsurprisingly proves to be nonexistent, even despite the industry’s persisting Gamine bias for both girl and boy groups. Which, worryingly, shifts toward promoting the too-muscular Natural body for male idols lately. We can anticipate more N types being cast into debut groups to reinforce that ideal. It does seem to create a new „be this type or go home“ beauty standard that is often divorced from the variety fans want to see. Say, nobody campaigns to have Felix look like Terminator Arnold 2.0 😅 He’s grown so perfectly into his Soft Gamine/Light Spring Season style and looks stunning. No need for a gargantuan bicep or pecs out of proportion, or 15 layers of insoles.

So, I wouldn’t want to pump up everyone into a quasi-Flamboyant Natural (the current Hollywood steroid disaster is telling) or slim everyone down to a faux Dramatic or FG (see Ozempic) when we have nothing short of 13 human archetypes, with 12 different seasonal color types on top anyway. You cannot change your ID to begin with, ever — you’d need surgery for each cell of your body. Even today’s possible amount of cosmetic procedures couldn’t change your yin-yang balance completely. You still look best in your original lines. Plus, height and bone shape are hard and painful to alter from head to toe. I prefer Kibbe’s prennial `dressing your own, already beautiful type´ approach, which still applies if someone had lots of surgery, too. Kibbe types are permanent after one’s early 20s.

That’s why I still think the „5-category-SHINee-effect“ does contribute to longevity and artistic merit. Exactly to last through extreme trends (because what’s after N muscles? Maybe skinny like D again, or balanced like C? It cycles on). Styling a group, it’ll never be a hit or miss game if you have all 5 archetypes present. Imagine SKZ doing an edgy/smokey eye concept, the yang members (e.g. Seungmin) will make waves. Or if they do lace and pearls, the yin types will look especially great.

No matter what theme a comeback has, it’ll strike a chord for at least one person. Everyone can have their turn, there’s no forgotten member. [Male] groups consisting of kindred Kibbe types (e.g. only Romantics, which would 100% set them apart) sadly rarely break through. They’d have to stick to one signature style, which probably wouldn’t survive in the capital-driven/high-speed K-Pop trend and fashion cycle, which asks for novelty. I’d love to see groups like that though, like an all Dramatic model squad. There’s still variety within one Kibbe ID’s styling options. Maybe I’ve overlooked some groups whose members all have similar types? Take to the comments and let me know, I’m curious!

PS. Thank you for reading all the way — and have a great week - Caro 🐯

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #kibbe types #kibbe #kibbe body types #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #fashion #bang chan #felix #lee know #han jisung

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mcuamerica · 7 months ago

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The Shadowsinger: Twenty-Four - Final

Warnings: pure fluff, smut (nothing too specific, but it's def there), ACOTAR series spoilers.

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and you officially accept the bond.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Graphics are my own. If you use, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

The next week, you stood in the threshold of the living room, watching as your family talked with one another. Azriel was seated in a chair in the middle and you had a plate with just his food on it. For some reason, you were very nervous. What if after all this time he decided he didn’t want to be bonded to you forever? What if he decided he wanted to go off and try again with Mor? Or someone else? Just as you were about to spiral forever, you felt a small tug on the bond, deep down. He looked over to you, the smile on his face growing.

Your family quieted down and looked towards you. You felt heat rush to your face. This should’ve been something you did intimately, now that you thought about it. But you also knew that you wanted to share this moment with each person who allowed you to be here.

Rhys and Feyre sat at the very end of the table next to Elain, Mor and (surprisingly) Nesta were across from them. On the other side of your eventual seat was Cassian. Across from you and Azriel was Amren and Varian. Wessian and Varyn sat across from each other on the other side of Cass and Varian.

Each one of your family members were dressed impeccably. The females had on lovely evening gowns. You knew that Feyre and Rhys were hosting a small get together after this at the River Home, which had just finished being built. You and Azriel would not be in attendance.

The males were in nice, slick pants, topped with a tunic or collared shirts. You’d never seen Cassian clean up so nicely.

“Everyone.” You cleared your throat, stepping through the threshold. “Tonight is the night that my mate and I officially accept the bond.” You said, your eyes on Azriel’s. His shirt was tight against the muscles below, his wings spread out in a way of teasing you. Your dress was a mix of ivory and black with details that looked like shadows swirling around. Once your mating was done (and you were sure Azriel wouldn’t try to kill anyone who looked at you), you and Azriel would go to the temple and swear vows to be married. You may be attached to him through the bond, but you wanted for it to be through the law as well. And so did he.

“Thank you all for coming. Please, have as much fun as you want once we leave.” You said and walked up to Azriel, a bright smile on your face. He looked at your with all the love and adoration in the world. “Azriel… I love you to no end. And I will love you forever. I offer you this food as my acceptance of the Mother’s blessing. Our mating bond.” You said and held out the plate to him.

You could almost feel everyone holding their breath before Azriel took the plate in his hands, and began eating. Everyone cheered and you laughed, one of Azriel’s scarred hands came towards yours and squeezed it. Something told you that once he was finished with the food, he would want to leave. Immediately. So you sat down next to him, eating a little bit of your own food as you watched him eat every last bite, not leaving a single thing. As if on cue, you felt the bond snap further, driving your desire for him immediately into the roof. You could see it in his eyes, you were in a whirlwind of a week. Or month. Gods, you hope it was a month.

You giggled as he didn’t even wait to start kissing you, pulling you up from the chair and kissing your neck. “Thank you all for coming.” You said and laughed when Azriel growled as they all tried to speak to you. You felt the shadows consume you and he winnowed to the outer bounds of the cabin.

You clumsily flew the rest of the way to the front door. You giggled as Azriel picked you up and carried you through the door, immediately pushing you against the wall. “I think this is the most romantic you’ve ever been.” You joked.

“I think this is the sexiest you’ve ever been.” He said down the bond. Your eyes widened as you kissed him deeply. “That’s right, sweetheart, I don’t even need to ask to know you want me as much as I want you.”

You sent a vulgar gesture down the bond, kissing his neck. “Would you just fuck me already?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, sweetheart,” he said out loud, looking deeply into your eyes. “I’m going to make love to you, many, many times tonight. And then I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging me for a break.” He rasped.

If your legs weren’t wrapped around his waist, you would’ve dropped to your knees for him right there. “I’ll start begging now.” You said, trailing your hands towards his wings. “Please, Az, make love to me.” You whispered.

A soft growl came from deep within his throat before he winnowed you within the cabin to the bedroom. He set you before the bed, turning you around to take off your dress slowly. He took his time kissing every part of your body, telling you why he loved it. From your neck, your shoulders, your hips, your stomach. All the way down to your core. He spent extra long on that part, devouring you until he brought you to your climax.

You returned the favor, getting on your knees and sucking him until he finished in your mouth. The bond was in full force the entire night.

When he finally laid you down on the bed and entered you, he held you hands above your head, intertwining your fingers. You moaned his name and he did the same with yours.

You stared into each other's eyes as you both came. And in those moments afterwards, when you curled against him, hearts beating in sync, you realized you finally found your place in the world. After going through so much, you would spend the rest of your life with your mate. Maybe soon you would try for a child, have a little Shadowsinger running around. Or maybe you would take your sweet time with your mate, getting to know every single fact about him for another 170 years of your life before you had children with him.

Whatever path you took, you knew that you would be happy with Azriel. With your mate. And most importantly, with yourself.

A/N: Awww this is the end y'all... I can't believe I posted an entire series... I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any requests for drabbles, or what I could include in a sequel, let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts as well. Thank you so much for all your support as well!!! I love each and every one of you that has liked, commented, and reblogged. It has meant the most to me.

Series Masterlist

Taglist

Tagging (a special thanks to he taglist, i've never had one this extensive before, thank you all for supporting me!)

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadow139 @complete-randomness2 @lilah-asteria @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @6v6babycheese @secretsthathauntus @krowiathemythologynerd @fightmedraco @he6rtshaker @kayla-rose15 @aelincaddel @mfri06 @hauntedstudentobservationus @brieflyclassymortal @read-write-sleep-startover @krowiathemythologynerd @ialwayscryatendings @chxosangxl @tanyaherondale @randombibitch @plants-w0rld @etsukomoonbeam @riorgail @herondale-lightworm @panther-girl-124

#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #the shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #katie writes #azriel smut

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poraphia · 1 year ago

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"Four Medium-Sized Coffees, One Big Fat Work Crush"

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 1457 words • 8.9.23 request by @mrssabinecallas! "lead singer will with a manager reader! they book all their performances and bring them coffee every morning, just happy to be there with Will and their friends"

requests are still open!! dont be shy :3 pt. 2 here <-

How to be a good tour manager: 1) Bring them coffee every morning 2) Don't fall in love with the lead singer

♡♡♡

Y’know, when I signed up for this job, I didn’t expect the roller coaster of emotions and action that would come with being an on-tour manager.

I especially didn’t think I’d end up falling for the lead singer of Lovejoy, William Gold.

I have been a stage director for concerts for a couple of years now since I graduated from university. I worked for different venues, taking up jobs such as being in charge of soundcheck and directing the lights. After years of hard work and a resume of experience, I was finally offered my first opportunity of being an on-tour manager for a rising band that was touring the world.

I have to admit, it was different. I was constantly away from home and on the road. The one thing genuinely battling this homesick feeling was the constant adventure and excitement we faced in every city. From sitting awkwardly in an Uber as the driver told us horrific stories, to running around the late-night streets tasting cuisines we had never heard of before.

I remember on the first day, I was a nervous train wreck. I spent most of that night pacing around my hotel room while occasionally practicing in the mirror how to greet the band, how to talk to them, and how to even shake their hand. It wasn’t until the peak time of 4 AM I decided that I should keep things simple (and that I should probably go to sleep because I had to wake up in three hours).

I met up with the band at our first venue for a soundcheck. When I got the text that they were arriving shortly, I ran to the nearest cafe and ordered four coffees, each with a simple shot of espresso, two scoops of sugar, and a cup of milk. It was basic, and it wasn’t guaranteed it would be something they’d love, but I was far too deep to turn back around and return the coffee. Plus, wouldn’t that be a super awkward situation? Oh, hey Mr. Barista! Sorry, can you refund me these four coffees after I walked in the blazing city heat for roughly ten minutes before—

“Hi,” A deep, posh voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. I looked around, not even realizing I was already at the venue, and the man was holding the door for me. He was tall with disheveled curly hair and he wore a striped T-Shirt with some basic black jeans. Glasses rested on the bridge of his nose but more importantly, there was the guitar case slung across his shoulder.

“O-Oh, thank you!” I stuttered, rushing past him to avoid any more embarrassment. He softly chuckled behind me before closing the door. I turned around, half-smiling to shake off the embarrassing situation I’ve seemed to stumble in.

“You must be (y/n), right? Our manager?” He asked, his eyes trailing from my face to my lanyard, to the cardboard cupholders presenting four hot and fresh beverages.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly. Guess that’s another check on the list for what will keep me up tonight. “I, uh, I got these coffees for you guys! Just to help you guys out with the jetlag and all…” I trailed off in the end. But thankfully, the man smiled and took a random cup, slightly pursing his lips to retrieve the beverage only to flinch back, laughing.

“Holy shit, this is hot.” He chuckled. I couldn’t help but laugh along as well. “Oh, fuck, where are my manners– My name is Wilbur, Will, William, honestly call me what you like.” He shrugged. “My other mates are right there and are practicing on stage right now. There’s Ash, Mark, and Joe.” He pointed to the respective person, each calling out their name.

We both began to walk toward the backstage area and continued talking. As Wilbur walked nonchalantly with coffee in hand, I struggled to catch up to his long strides while also maintaining the balance of the rest of the drinks. “It’s a funny way how we all became a band actually–” He turned around. Noticing my struggle as he spared a few milliseconds so that I may catch up. Will chuckled before continuing to walk at a much slower pace.

Once we arrived in the backstage lounge, I pushed the door for him with my back. He thanked me before walking past. “Oh, (y/n), I would like to mention something–” He said, turning his head to face me. I tilted my head, anticipating. “Next time you get us coffee, I’d like mine with two cups of milk!” He smiled. “Although, it is perfect as it is anyway. I’m sure the rest of the band would love it.”

As I watched him finish up his coffee and make his way to the stage, my mind was set on a new goal:

“Find out Lovejoy’s desired coffee orders.”

From that day forward, I brought them coffee every morning. From meeting them on the tour bus, at soundcheck, to even waiting in the hotel lobby. I would listen closely to what comments they would make. If Joe slightly mentions to Ash he doesn't like sweet coffee, I'll remember to add less sugar. If I heard Mark asking around for creamer, I'll remember to put more cream. My petty rule for myself was that I wouldn't dare ask them directly about their preferences. It was a fun little game for me, and it only took Wilbur a little over two months for him to notice.

Wilbur and I were sitting in the tour bus booth area going over the set list when he brought it up. "Hey, (Y/N), can I ask you something?" He said, tapping at his cardboard cup. I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on to meet his eyes.

"I know what you're gonna ask– I've already asked the stage crew if we could add smoke for The Fall along with some more flashing lights during Warsaw." I explained, pointing at the paper with the pen I had in hand.

Wilbur let out a soft chuckle with the softest smile on his face. His hair covered a bit of his eyes but even then I could see the reflection of light making his pupils sparkle. His laugh caused a fluttering sensation in my chest. My hands and stomach tingled as if dozens of butterflies were dancing on my skin. Was I.. Getting flustered?

"No, no, I wasn't going to ask that." He spoke gently. I held my breath, a little embarrassed for my rambling. "Though I do appreciate it all. You've picked up so much about us as a band in just a couple of weeks." He held the end joints of my fingers between his grasp as he spoke, fidgeting with them as he talked.

"Oh, well…" I felt the blush creeping to my face. "that is kind of my job." I chuckled.

"Also you've been getting our coffee orders perfectly I've noticed. Mark was raving to me earlier about how good it tasted. Ash even posted it in his story." Wilbur said, reminiscing on his mornings with his friends.

I couldn't hold back the biggest smile on my face. It took every nerve of my body not to jump up on the table and do the goofiest, happiest dance of my life. Instead, I nodded and hummed, using my thumb to rub circles into his hand.

"I'm really glad to hear that. This is my first on-tour job, so here it's just–" I stumbled over my words trying to find the right phrases, but I was so overwhelmed with giddiness I just sighed. "Thank you…"

Wilbur looked back up to meet my eyes again. His cheeks were dusted with the slightest bit of pink as he examined bits of my face. I wanted to take in every feature of his as well. From the small mole near his eye to how pink his lips were. How pretty his lips are… they look so… Soft–

"(y/N)! Wilbur!" Mark called out from the other end of the bus. Immediately we pulled away from each other, sinking ourselves in our opposite-end seats from embarrassment.

"Yeah?! What is it, Mark?" Will called out, but he dared not to turn around to face him.

"We're in LA now! You guys ready for our last gig in the States?!" He asked excitedly.

Oh, God.

It was the last gig.

Which means…

I looked over to Will, who also had a slight shock on his face as if it slipped his mind as well.

This is it, I suppose.

Who was I to think I would get my happy rom-com ending?

♡♡♡

my wilbur soot masterlist ~! a / n ~ i have a part two idea for this already omg should I do it?? reblogs and likes are super appreciated!! they be motivating me :33

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #lovejoy #wilbur hc #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fluff #will gold #wilbursootmcyt #mcyt headcanons wilbur #mcyt tag #mcyt x reader #mcytblr #mcyt

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lemonylioness · 6 months ago

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A Work of Art

Madara x Reader - University AU - An aspiring artist gets their first nude model

Content warnings: dub con, D/s dynamics, edging, public sex, mild bondage, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, squirting, creampie, aftercare

4.8k

So honestly, this is only marked for Madara, because he is my favorite. When writing this, I felt it could fit a lot of our older “Daddy” type characters and I kept it intentionally vague (except for a line or two) so feel free to imagine your favorite dominating you. Madara, Hashirama, Tobirama, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Kakuzu, Geto, Toji, Nanami… Honestly the list goes on… Enjoy~

“Alright, class, for this week’s project, we will be using posed nude models to complete studies of the human body and to grow your knowledge of anatomy. You will create a painting in either oil or acrylic medium on canvases or boards. I want the completed project to be at least 10” x 20”,” the art professor wrote on the chalkboard as he spoke, writing down the same requirements for the project as he was speaking, “Be respectful of our models as they are volunteers, older students and professors who graciously donated their time for your practice. Once they come in, stay seated, they will come to you. The model you get is the model you get. No swapping and no complaining.” He turned and snapped a finger at the student closest to the classroom door, “Let them in and remember, we are grateful for their time.”

The student pulled open the door and a line of robed men and women came into the spacious classroom, a mix of body types, heights, and hair colors ranging from white to blonde to brown to the deepest black, splitting off and sitting by whoever caught their eye and immediately the volume of sound in the room increased as strangers got to know each other and robes were discarded. You were tucked back into a corner by the large window. It was your favorite place to paint as it had a view that overlooked the university campus and had a perfectly warm sunbeam for most of the class time. Rearranging your paint brushes on your work table nervously, you worked not to catch anyone’s eye, a deep blush coloring your face at all of the exposed skin. This was way outside your comfort zone, but you loved art and this was a part of it. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as the pairs settled, leaving only one model left, who was standing at the front of the room with the professor, his broad back to the class as they spoke. You recognized him as one of the professors on campus, possibly teaching history or something like that, his wild black hair tamed back into a ponytail and his large hands moving through the air as he gesticulated to whatever he was saying that you couldn’t hear.

Suddenly, he turned, looking in the direction the professor was pointing which was straight at you, making you duck behind your canvas as your blush turned a blazing red. When you peeked out again, you were immediately ensnared in his dark eyes, his expression changing to something like hunger as he started toward your little corner. Dropping your eyes, you fiddled with the brushes again, unexpected heat flooding your body from just his look. You felt like a trapped rabbit as the predator stalked silently towards your hiding place and it was taking everything you had not to break and run.

“Where would you like me to be?” The model’s smooth voice brushed past your ear from way too close and you jumped, not expecting him so close so soon.

“R-right th-there is perfect,” you stumbled over your words as you indicated the stool set up in front of your easel, making use of the sunbeam that glittered across the floor. More blood suffused through your face and neck as you tried to ignore how much of your personal space this man was in, “You can use the stool if you want… Or whatever you’d like…”

He chuckled as if he knew exactly how nervous he was making you before stepping around your body and canvas. Taking off his robe, he asked, “how would you like me to pose for you?”

“Oh… Ah… Um…” Your brain was short circuiting as your eyes roamed over his muscular frame, “h-however is most comfortable for you… I’m not picky.” Clearly comfortable with being naked in front of an audience, he started arranging himself on the stool after a sly smile in your direction, finally settling on facing you with his feet propped on the foot rest bar and legs spread apart, showing his manhood as well as the curls of hair above it. He sat up straight, arching his back slightly as he positioned his arms above his head, elbows bent and hands tucked behind his neck. It was a very casual pose that showed everything. Muscles rippled as you watched him flex for you, his eyes on your face, waiting for your reaction. Gathering yourself, you tried your best to keep any evidence of the heat you were feeling from your face, though you couldn’t deny the way your core ached and dampened just from his gaze alone.

There was no doubt about it, he was very attractive and he knew it too. It was like he was preening as more and more of the class looked your way. Hiding behind your canvas, you tried to stay out of the line of sight of everyone as you wet your brush and got started on your piece. At least here, you could avoid not only the jealous looks of your classmates, but also your model’s laser focus. Taking a deep breath and steeling yourself against another flush of heat, you let your mind wander back over his perfectly sculpted muscles, the gorgeous dark hair both on his head and the dusky thatch between his legs, under which was perched his nicely formed penis and scrotum. You had seen naked men before, you certainly were not a virgin, however none of them had looked like this. Or had his eyes. It was his eyes that drew you in the most. Deep and intelligent, it was like they could see right through you, like he could read your mind and everything you thought with just a look. It was just so intense, like he had stolen his eyes right off of the cover of a romance novel.

Taking another calming breath, you picked up your paint palette and looked out from behind your canvas to make sure your model wasn’t just a figment of an overactive imagination. His eyes immediately locked onto yours again and he smirked.

“Ready to get started?” he purred, flexing fully once more. Swallowing hard, you nodded and started your sketch, praying to whatever higher power that you were going to survive this week without melting into a little puddle. It was going to be a long project.

—

The art room was empty except for yourself and your model. The other students had long since called it quits for the day and shuffled on to other pursuits. He was no longer in his pose as you had finished your bare bones sketch and wouldn’t need him until it came time to set the lighting and color. For now, you were slowly adding detail from memory avoiding looking at him as much as possible. He was currently chewing on his lip and staring out the window, still perched on the stool, still unbelievably attractive, and still making heat flood your body every time you forgot yourself and stared at him for too long. The silence in the room was overbearing and making things worse for you as there was nothing that could be used as a distraction. Maybe it was time to call it a day. You certainly could use the break to get rid of the nagging ache between your thighs, your dorm room sounding better all the time for some privacy. Your panties had to be soaked after all.

Finally setting down your paint brush, you stretched and stepped back away from the easel, catching his attention, “Are we done?” He stood up and stepped over to look at the canvas, immediately invading your personal space again and standing way too close.

“Well no… I mean, I’m taking a break for a moment… But you certainly don’t have to stick around… I can wait until tomorrow for the parts I’ll need you for, but for now I just want to step away for a moment or two,” you stepped back away from him, turning to your work table to hide the arousal you were sure was stamped all over your face. He was so warm and you couldn’t handle his presence when it was so close to you. He also smelled really good and your hands itched to see if his skin was really as silky as it looked. You needed to get a hold of yourself. He was turning your brain to mush and he wasn’t really even doing anything.

Gathering your paint brushes, you moved to take them to the sink, when suddenly a strong arm had you trapped against the table, his firm, bare chest pressed against your back as he caged you in place, “you do look a little tired, taking a break is smart. I’ll stay here with you.”

Even though his voice was soothing, you tensed as his breath fanned across your neck. “I should leave,” you struggled to speak normally, hoping he couldn’t hear the beginning of the needy whine in your voice, “and let you get dressed and back to whatever you need to do… I’ve got a few things to take care of and I’ve held you here long enough…” Your voice faltered as his lips pressed just under your ear.

“Don’t go,” his tone left little room for argument and he pressed closer, his body solid against yours and making you shiver.

“I-I… W-we can’t… You’re a professor and someone could come in at any time… We don’t even know each other’s names…” You argued weakly, the ache was becoming unbearable and you were pretty sure he knew.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, just relax,” his mouth trailed up and down the tensed muscle of your neck, one of his hands moving to press against your stomach to keep you in place when you tried to turn to face him, “No, kitten, stay where you are. Forget about everything, the project, your worries, your inhibitions. Just focus on me. Focus on how this makes you feel. I won’t let anything bad happen. Understood?”

A soft moan left your lips as you felt his teeth nip your skin before you let out a breathy, “Y-yes…”

A deep rumble powered through his chest at your acquiescence, “yes what?”

“Yes Sir,” you blushed with embarrassment as you answered him without hesitation, the words springing from your lips instinctually.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred, his unoccupied hand moving to pull the paint brushes from your grip and setting them aside before he guided your hands up into the air so he could pull off your shirt and bra in quick succession. His mouth moved to your neck again, making your knees weak as kisses and nips heated your skin only to be soothed a minute later by his tongue. You melted back against his hard chest as his teeth caught your ear lobe, tugging as he sucked at the soft flesh. Your acceptance of his ministrations seemed to please him and he pulled you back tighter against his body, one of his hands moving to cup your breast while the other drifted lower to the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were gentle against your skin in contrast to the way his lips and teeth were attacking your neck and shoulders. Your eyes slid closed as another moan left you, the combination of his skillful touch and sinful mouth was getting to be too much.

He seemed to have been waiting for this, taking it as his cue to start taking things further. He squeezed your breast, his thumb tracing around your areola and over your nipple, making the bud tighten into a stiff peak for him to tug on as his other hand slipped into your panties, moving to cup between your legs. His touch was electricity, delivering shocks of pleasure that just seemed to turn you on and on and on. You were more aroused than you had ever been before in your life. Your little cunt wouldn’t stop aching, begging to be filled with something just so you could have an ounce of relief. Your model seemed to be feeling similarly, you could feel his thick, twitching erection pressed firmly against your ass and when you reached back to touch him, he groaned in your ear as his hips bucked slightly.

“That’s right, kitten, go ahead, touch whatever you’d like. I want you and this wet pussy so bad… I can’t believe how ready you are for me…” His voice tightened and he stifled another groan as your fingers wrapped and squeezed around his girthy shaft. You arched against him as he pulled his hand from your shorts so he could undo the button and push them down past your hips, letting them and your panties pool around your feet as his hand went right back to where it was, your legs spreading of their own accord to give him more access. He hissed against your neck before purring in your ear, “So ready… You’ve wanted this for a while haven’t you? My naughty girl. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

A harsh whine left your throat as his fingers started to probe between your lower lips, “Y-yes S-sir… P-please… I-I need more…” He chuckled as his other hand came up to gently circle around your neck, holding you as still as he could, his arm pressing between your breasts and against your sternum, pinning you to his body.

“Of course, pet, all in good time, just be a good girl for me,” his fingers slid inside of your throbbing heat and curled deliciously causing pleasure to spike through you. Panting from the delightful feelings, your thighs tried to squeeze together as he worked his fingers against your g-spot, the stimulation already overwhelming as his hand tightened around your throat in warning, causing you to freeze. One of his legs came up between yours, his muscular thigh forcing you to keep your legs spread as he pulled your back into a harsher arch, making it difficult for you to do anything except take it as you balanced on your tiptoes. “Relax, kitten, let me pleasure you,” he admonished gently as he continued to massage your spongy spot until you were shaking in his grasp, your hand pumping his hot, silky cock erratically. It was so easy to follow his commands and let him toy with your body that you found yourself going boneless in his arms, letting him have his way as he made pleasure course through every one of your nerves, setting you on fire every time his fingers moved inside of you.

“O-oh, p-please, I’m so close… I’m g-gonna c-cum,” you soon sobbed, your pussy fluttering with your impending climax.

His hand immediately stilled, his fingers sliding out of your core and making you cry out as your orgasm slipped away, tears gathering on your lash line, “shh, pet, I know, I know… But you can’t cum yet… Not yet. You’ll only cum on my cock or not at all.” He wiped your juices across your stomach, letting you whimper quietly as he readjusted your position, pulling your hand from his cock and pushing you down chest first onto the work table, your breasts squished to the cool surface. He nudged your legs apart with his knee so your soft lower lips and fluttering cunt were on full display for him, one of his hands splayed across your back to keep you in place as the other groped the smooth globe of your asscheek. You squirmed underneath his hand, feeling your slick start to ooze from your clenching, empty heat, coating your trembling lips before drooling down your thighs and spattering onto the tile floor between your feet with a soft pap, pap, pap.

He rumbled in approval behind you, “That’s it, now I can see your needy, little hole. Don’t move.” His hand left your body as he stepped away from you, the loss of his heat making goosebumps rise all over your skin as you quickly chilled in the cool air. You couldn’t help the shiver that worked its way up your spine as an anxious ball tightened in your belly, your swollen clit throbbing as your pussy clenched and quivered in anticipation. Suddenly, smooth hands were pulling your arms behind your back, the tie from the robe he had been wearing earlier wrapping and knotting around your wrists to keep them together and in place against your back as he stood behind you once again, his thick cock resting between your ass cheeks, leaking pearls of pre-cum onto your shivering skin as he contemplated his next move.

A whimper fell from your lips as your hips involuntarily bucked back, “Please… P-please… Please…” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, but you needed something to happen, you couldn’t stand waiting any longer.

He tutted softly, tracing a finger down your spine and making you arch and shudder, more of your slick dripping and pooling on the floor, “Ask appropriately, kitten, use your words… Tell me what you want.”

“P-please, Sir, I want you inside me… I want your cock so bad… I need it. Fuck me! Please!” You begged brokenly, practically sobbing with urgency as you gave into his dominance, letting him have complete control as you laid submissively on the table, your legs shaking.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred, wasting no time shifting behind you and pressing the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, getting himself slippery with your juices. Before he thrust into you, he leaned down and his hand circled around your knee, bringing your leg up to rest in a bent position on the table, pushing your hips back flat on the cool surface and opening your cunt up even more for him to look at and touch, his fingers ghosting over your twitching skin and lightly catching on your swollen clit, making you sob and buck again. “Mmm… You’re so perfect… This pussy is so perfect… This is now my property, do you understand that, pet?”

Without waiting for an answer, he groaned as he slowly worked his heavy girth into your sloppy, slobbery hole, the head of his cock popping past the tight ring of muscle and stretching you out in a way you’d never felt before. You moaned pathetically, your hips jerking back and your body threatening to climax just from him barely penetrating your quivering pussy.

“F-fuck, kitten, you’re so tight,” he choked and shuddered behind you, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass as he reeled from how hard you were clamped around just the tip of his length. “That’s it kitten, go ahead, cum for me,” one of his hands reached between your bodies and thumbed at your clit, thrusting shallowly to give you a little friction to help, planning to use your orgasm to slam home. The stimulation quickly sent you over the edge and into a shaking, spasming frenzy. With your arms bound behind your back, you had no way to muffle your cries as your little hole strangled his dick and pleasure whited out your vision. He immediately took advantage of your quivering, cockdrunk body, his hips thrusting forward before the euphoria of your orgasm could fade and sheathing himself in his entirety in your pulsing heat.

The sudden stretch of his heavy girth had you mewling and shuddering, the immediate overstimulation threatening to send you back into orbit. He stood still behind you, giving you time to get used to how his thick cock was stuffing your little hole full. You couldn’t help the way your hips jerked forward, your body shifting further onto the table as you tried to relieve some of the intense pressure overwhelming your senses. Soft whines fell from your lips as your only broken thoughts revolved around how deep his cock felt buried in your guts.

“Look at my dumb little kitten, thinking you can run from my cock,” his hands quickly grabbed your hips, dragging your body back to his as his dick twitched and flexed within you.

“T-too m-much,” you whimpered frantically, “p-please t-too much!”

“Shh, pet, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he cooed gently, pressing closer to your trembling body as he worked to calm you down, “you’re doing so good, kitten, you’re taking me so well and you feel absolutely amazing. Just breathe, sweetheart, I’m about to make you feel so good.”

As your shaking body started to relax, he continued to praise you in hushed tones, one of his hands staying wrapped around your hip as the other moved to grip your arm bindings holding you tightly in place as he started to drag his silky cock through your gummy walls, achingly slow and controlled. He very carefully built his rhythm, his strokes long and languid until you got used to his size and the stretch, your moans and sobs acting as his guide. It wasn’t long before he was pounding into your dribbling cunt, his thick length pressing against every sensitive spot inside of you and making you see stars every time his tip kissed your cervix.

“Ah- Ah- M’gonna�� M’gonna…” You struggled to speak as your second orgasm built way more quickly than the first, the knot in your core threatening to snap after only a few seconds of his rough thrusting.

His only answer was his fingers finding your clit, rolling the little bud in tight circles as he kept up the demanding pace. You were almost immediately shoved off the edge of your peak and dropped into a churning sea of ecstasy, your back arching as you wailed your pleasure, your sloppy, little hole strangling his rutting cock.

He groaned loudly, but his pace never faltered, “Ngh, kitten, fuck, you feel so good…” Your response was another cry as again you hit another peak, euphoria tearing through you as he continued to stimulate your sensitive pussy, not giving a bit of respite as he chased his own pleasure. Shudders wracked your body, leaving you a dumb, drooling mess on the table as your cunt gushed around him over and over, soaking you both in your fluids. Big, fat tears traced their way down your cheeks as climax after climax rolled through you, stealing your breath and not allowing you to do anything except lay there and take the cock bullying into your trembling heat.

Panting as his own climax drew near, your model shifted behind you, his rhythm pausing as he wrapped one hand around your throat, lifting you bodily from the table and quietly directing you to place both knees on the surface to get you at the perfect height, his other arm wrapping tightly around your waist to cage you to his chest as he began to sloppily fuck up into you. His crushing grip on your jaw did nothing to muffle your sobbing moans, your straddled legs keeping you spread wide open as his dick pounded into your cervix, making you see stars with every thrust. Pace picking back up, he tilted your head back onto his shoulder so he could look directly at your fucked out face, his own pupils blown wide with lust as he ran his tongue up your cheek, collecting the tears that still streaked down your skin, savoring the taste of your overstimulation.

“You’re doing so good, kitten, give me one more orgasm… We’re almost there… Just one more, pet, that’s my good girl,” he cooed against the shell of your ear, keeping eye contact, and probably very aware that you more than likely couldn’t even understand him with how absolutely obliterated you were. His pace finally broke down into jolting thrusts, each ending with a grind deep into your womb until finally you fell apart again.

Shaking and arched in a silent scream, your soul was evicted from your body with one last earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy clamped down tightly around his cock, milking him for all he was worth as he spilled his hot seed deep into your belly, the liquid heat painting your quivering walls as his dick twitched and flexed. His hips jerked a few more times, drawing out both of your climaxes until at last his softening length slid out of your used, sensitive cunt, spilling the lewd mixture of your fluids into the already messy puddle on the floor.

Carefully, he slowly lowered you to sit down on a clean spot of the floor, snagging his robe to place underneath your body so you weren’t in direct contact with the cold tile. He gently cupped your face, directing your gaze to his so he could judge your condition as he released your arms from the robe tie, making sure you made it back down from your high safely as he rubbed feeling back into wrists and hands. After your color was better and you had caught more of your breath, he left you to grab a few towels to clean up the mess on the floor and between your legs. You squirmed against him as the towel pressed against your sensitive flesh and he chuckled in your ear, holding you close to him as he continued to work, getting you as close to spotless as he could before helping your jellied limbs back into your clothes. Setting you back on the floor, not trusting you to stay in a chair yet, he threw back on the soiled robe, tying it closed so he could step out of the room for a few seconds or minutes, you weren’t really keeping track as you started to doze, exhaustion setting in. Before you knew it though, fingers were tapping against your cheek, bringing you back into consciousness to see your now fully clothed model kneeling in front of you.

“You okay, kitten?” He smiled, his fingers brushing across your skin, “you still look pretty fucked out and like you’re going to need help getting home.”

Your face immediately heated up, startled at the thought of this man, who just pounded the life out of you, escorting you to your dorm room, “N-no! I’ll make it back, thank you, but I’ll be- I am okay.”

Disbelief was written across his face, but he didn’t say anything as he watched you wobble to your feet like a fresh baby deer. That is until you tried to take your first step and all but collapsed into his arms. “Mhm, you’ll definitely make it back on your own,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before scooping you up into his arms and standing to his full height, “I’m getting you home, whether you want me to or not. Though I’m somewhat hurt that you don’t want me to make sure you arrive safely.”

You struggled in his grip, but gave up quite quickly after the stern look he gave you, “It’s not that I don’t want you to… I just don’t want to explain it to my roommate… You know, why a professor is seeing me to my dorm room safely and looking like this…” You indicated your rumpled appearance and wild hair, a fierce blush creeping from your cheeks, down your neck, and blooming across your chest.

He threw back his head with a bark of laughter, “I might have a solution for that. You’ve trusted me thus far… Would you be okay with me taking you to my home instead? I don’t live far and you can rest, shower, and straighten up before facing this roommate of yours.”

“Are you going to fuck me again?” You asked with a squeak, arousal blooming in your core at the thought of being alone in his house with him, though a hint of trepidation joined the mix at the thought of doing all of that again, you were tired and couldn’t really feel your legs as it was.

“If you want me to,” he answered with a grin and started carrying you out of the art room.

“Wait- my stuff!”

He didn’t even pause in his stride, “We’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll let your professor know that your things are there and I doubt anyone will bother with them.”

“B-but,” you started to protest.

At this, he did pause, “There is nothing you can say now that is going to stop me from taking care of you. I want to make sure after all of that, that you are okay. What we did was intense and I don’t want you to experience any sort of drop. I honestly don’t want to let you out of my sight at all. So please, kitten, let me make sure you are okay.”

You closed your mouth and he quietly carried you out of the building and to his car while you thought over his words. You were silent while he buckled you in and started the vehicle, pulling out and beginning the drive away from campus. After a few blocks, you turned and looked at his serious face, getting up the courage to speak.

“What if I want you to fuck me again?”

He only smiled.

#naruto fanfiction #madara x reader #madara uchiha #madara

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

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I’ve seen some people try and defend Lore Olympus by saying that movies like Hercules and such aren’t accurate to Greek myth, yet they’re still loved. And I somewhat get where they’re coming from, i really do.

BUT- I feel like part of the problem with LO is the fact that if you replace the names, you’d almost be right to assume it takes place in a completely different setting. Meanwhile, if you take away the names from the Hercules movie, you can still tell where it’s supposed to take place. (And who’s who, if you know your myths). Plus the writing of Hercules is 100% better than LO.

The difference between LO and Hercules is that Hercules clearly has respect for the source material put into it. It might not be accurate to the source material - because it's being retooled as a Disney movie for children - but you can tell there's still a lot of thought, love, and effort put into it. The team behind that movie did research on the art and culture of Greece, and adapted it into a movie that was entertaining and recognizable as a Greek myth adaption.

They put our home boy Heracles/Hercules in a tunic! Do you know how shocking that must have looked to American viewers who didn't know a shred of Greek myth and wondered why the big buff hero was being drawn in a skirt? Still accurate though!

LO, meanwhile, writes Greek myth as if it hates Greek myth for existing. It comes across more as a white woman using these stories purely for profit and colonizing it with American-esque culture. The outfits have become noticeably less Greek since the beginning, the characters never eat Greek food anymore, and the locations are left as vague as solid color backdrops to indicate "The Underworld" and "Olympus" without actually showing any set pieces or understanding of how these locations would look and feel in a modern setting.

All of these examples I gave are things we saw a decent amount of in S1. But since then it's just become talking heads on top of flat color backgrounds, eating Chinese food and dressing in American-style clothing. When was the last time we saw a mortal? There's just nothing Greek about the comic anymore because either Rachel has gotten so complacent that she just defaults to what she knows without any research (so what she watches on TV and in movies) or she only bothered with her research in the beginning to get people hooked and convinced that she's a "folklorist" so that they'd keep reading the series and giving her money on good will alone.

Using Hercules as an example of "well it's not accurate to Greek myth either!" completely misses the point of what people are getting at when they say that LO is a bad Greek myth retelling. Guess what else isn't completely accurate to Greek myth? Hadestown. Hades (the game). God of War. Stray Gods. They all take creative liberties with the source material in order to adjust it to the medium and audience they're creating it for, but none of those adaptions are quite as disrespectful as LO's. And God of War literally has little angry man going around and brutally murdering the gods. It still respects the setting of Greek myth more than LO, but unlike LO, it doesn't try to constantly sound smart with its inaccuracies, it knows fully well that it's a video game first and foremost.

And that's the beauty of myths. They can be adapted across generations and used to tell new versions of the same stories. So it begs the question, why bother writing a Greek myth retelling if you're going to make it so non-Greek that you could have just as well just written a normal soap drama and have it still be virtually the same?

Compared to all of the other examples, LO is the definition of confidently incorrect. It should have stuck to just being Greek myth inspired, not a retelling.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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artist-issues · 2 months ago

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Hi, not to sound like a creep but I was trying to find this one reply to ask about the Chosen series because I remembered something and I wanted to see if you're the one who said it. But then I couldn't find it. Stumbled into this one post where you said your least favorite medium is anime and I'm quite curious about that now. I don't generally have an issue when people say they don't like anime, as a whole, but I try to understand why. Of course even if you just said "I just don't like it" then I could respect that too, since I can not push it.

I think it's like a language I don't speak. Even the English-dubbed versions. In anime, it's not made by people in my culture, for my culture. So, I don't understand it very well. I don't understand why everyone's screaming. I absolutely don't understand the character designs. I don't understand the use of blushing. I don't understand the humor or the drama. I don't understand why one interaction can take several "episodes," and the dialogue is unrealistic the entire time. People don't talk like that. And it would be one thing if people talked in an unrelatable cadence once, as part of the "style" of a film or show, but it's across the board for every anime I've seen.

There's nothing wrong with that, per se. Like I said, it's just made for a different culture, one I'm not in. And that's fine. Could I learn it? Could I engross myself in it until I feel what the media is trying to make me feel and get what they're trying to say?

Yeah. I could.

But most often, it doesn't feel worth it. It doesn't feel like the anime I've seen is really trying to point to a significant truth or remind people of goodness and beauty, so much as it is pointless entertainment.

Otherwise, why is there so much gratuitous cleavage? Whats with the emphasis on violence violence violence? Plus cursing? Why are all of the "attractive" characters a little-girl stereotype or a sexy femme fatale stereotype? And what's with the feminine looking dude characters? Why does one fight take six episodes? Why does one "romance" last an entire show but consist of nothing except gasps and blushes?

Not a fan.

I have seen one or two anime that clearly have a point. They're Studio Ghibli, though.

And again, I'm not saying anime's have no point in general. I'm saying I'd have to understand the culture to get the point, but the culture itself seems to be based around values that I don't find valuable. And a lot of those "values" if I'm reading them right are the ones our Western culture is starting to push down throats more and more, and I don't like those, either, so there you go.

I also find it odd that so many young Western men are drawn to anime. I don't think it's an awesome thing. All the anime I've ever seen: Demonslayer, Naruto, etc. doesn't have anything particularly good for them in it. There's a ton of violence, of egos getting slung around, yelling, and terribly long gratuitous brain-numbing pacing, along with sensual gasping and drama-for-drama's sake. And I know my young male friends are no more Japanese or understanding of Japanese culture than I am. So what are they getting out of it? They can't ever tell me.

Maybe you can?

#asked #answered #anime #my opinion

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paigegonerogue · 3 months ago

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I always try never to compare Pedro and Bella’s performances with Ashley and Troy’s.

That isn’t to say I don’t compare performances in general, or that I don’t have character choices that prefer in one version over the other, because I absolutely do. I just think that in this specific instance, the comparison of ‘X did better acting than Y’ is nonsensical and reductive of both parties. Both versions of TLOU have absolutely stellar performances, but they aren’t the same kind of performances!

In gaming, the actors have to be more exaggerated in order to get emotion across, since mocap doesn’t allow for the kind of subtle emotion that video does. You can’t tell what someone’s thinking by the look in their eyes or the way they hold their bodies without it being more exaggerated. But being more exaggerated doesn’t mean being more expressive. Pedro and Bella are both truly fantastic subtle actors, who act more with their eyes than most Hollywood stars do with their whole bodies. That’s just as expressive, it’s just a different kind of expressive. Acting with your eyes and with the subtle ways you hold your body just isn’t possible in video games yet.

If you took Ashley and Troy’s performances in TLOU game and stuck them 1:1 in a live action show, they would seem out of place and over-acted. That’s good! That’s how it’s supposed to be, because mocap and v/o acting are different from live-action, in-front-of-camera acting. Ashley and Troy are also incredible tv actors, but video game acting isn’t tv acting!

My point is that not is comparing these specific sets of actor’s performance useless and unnecessarily antagonistic, it’s also nonsensical. They both gave stellar performances, each pair delivering all-time-great acting specifically tailored for their respective mediums, and that deserves our respect and admiration, not useless manufactured competition.

#PaigeGoneAnalysis #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us game #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou game #bella ramsey #pedro pascal #ashley johnson #troy baker #ellie williams #joel miller #acting #video games #tv shows #television #the last of us analysis #tlou analysis

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talonabraxas · 6 months ago

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Arcturus Talon Abraxas

Arcturus is the fourth brightest star in the sky: only Sirius, Canopus and Alpha Centauri outshine this orange giant. It is a variable star in the last stages of its life.

Arcturus takes its name from its nearness to the sky Bears, Big and Little Bears, Ursa Major, and Ursa Minor. From Arktouros or Arctophilax, "the Bear Guard" and also called "the Bear Watcher". The "Herdsman", or "driver of oxen" are other titles. Arcturus is the brightest star in the constellation of Bootes the Herdsman so it is also called Alpha Bootis. The pattern of stars in this constellation forms the shape of a kite or an ice cream cone; seeing a Herdsman driving the bears around the sky.

Arcturus is believed to be one of the first stars named by ancient observers. It is translated as "Guardian of the Bear" and is a name that was once used for the entire constellation of Bootes. It is easily found by noting that the curve of the handle of the Big Dipper is part of a circle - an arc - and we can just "follow the arc to Arcturus."

Arcturus is a giant with a diameter about 18 times our Sun's and four times as much mass. Its surface temperature is about 1500 degrees lower than Sun's but its much greater surface area results in an outpouring of energy at a rate making it 105 times as luminous as Sun.

Recent observations by the European Space Agency's Hipparcos Space Astrometry Mission have revised Arcturus's distance to 36.7 light years from us.

Arcturus has the largest "proper motion" -- motion across the sky -- of any of the bright stars except Alpha Centauri, the nearest star to our solar system. In 100 years Arcturus moves across the sky a distance equal to about half the width of your little finger held at arm's length.

At its distance of nearly 37 light years, this motion, when combined with its motion along our line of sight measured spectroscopically using the Doppler shift, yields a space velocity of about 76 miles per second with respect to our Sun. Most stars in our vicinity are moving relatively slowly with respect to Sol because of our common motion carrying us around the center of the Milky Way galaxy every 250 million years. Arcturus is in an elongated orbit around the Galaxy's center that carries it out into the Galaxy's halo.

It was formed in the halo of the Milky Way and is an interloper in our neighborhood. It has been visible to the naked eye for only about half a million years. It will be a little closer in a few thousand years, but then will recede from our view in another half million years as it continues its journey on a different orbital path.

Arcturus's great brilliance makes it possible to obtain very detailed spectra and to determine its chemical composition. Arcturus is deficient in elements such as silicon, aluminum, and iron which are formed in stars. It contains only about a fifth as much of these elements as Sun. These elements are formed inside stars, mixed into the interstellar medium as stars explode, and incorporated into subsequent generations of stars.

This chemical composition reinforces our identification of Arcturus as a member of the galactic halo. It was formed about 10 billion years ago, in a generation of star formation prior to that in which our Sun was formed, before the interstellar medium could be enriched in elements such as silicon and iron. Arcturus, about twice as old as Earth and the solar system, is the oldest thing most of us have ever seen, and is the oldest object easily visible to the naked eye.

The constellation Bootes has the shape of a kite with the bright star Arcturus at the point of the kite where the tail is attached.

Arcturus is a red supergiant star and the fourth brightest star in the whole sky.

It is visible from the northern hemisphere in the evening from about March early summer. Red-supergiant stars are precursors to super-novae, neutron stars, and black holes (so it is believed). It is approximately thirty-six light years from Earth.

According to E W Bullinger (The Witness of the Stars ), a biblical interpreter of the constellations, the ancient Egyptians called Bootes Smat, which means 'one who rules, subdues, and governs'. They also called him Bau , which means also 'the coming one'.

It was famous with the seamen of early days and as a calender sign regulated their annual festival by its movements in relation to the sun. But its influence always was dreaded, as is seen in Aratos writings. Its acronycal rising (the latest rising visible at sunset) fixed the date of the husbandmen's Lustratio frugum; and allusions were made to its character as unfavorably affecting the farmer's work; "When moist Arcturus clouds the sky". Other contemporary authors confirmed this stormy reputation, while all classical calendar's gave the dates of its risings and settings.

An Egyptian astronomical calendar of the 15th century BC, associates it with the star Antares in the immense sky figure Menat; and Lockyer claims it as one of the objects of worship in Nile temples, as it was in the temple of Venus at Ancona in Italy.

In India it was the 13th nakshatra, Svati, "the Good Goer", or perhaps "Sword", but figured as a Coral Bead, Gem, or Pearl; and known there also as Nishtya, "Outcast", possibly from its remote northern situation far outside of the zodiac, whence, from its brilliancy, it was taken to complete the series of Hindu asterisms.

The Arabs knew Arcturus as Al Simak al Ramih *, sometimes translated the "Leg of the Lance-bearer", and again, perhaps more correctly, the "Lofty Lance-bearer".

Another Arabic name; Al Haris al Sama, the "Keeper of Heaven," perhaps came from the star's early visibility in the twilight owing to its great northern declination, as though on the lookout for the safety and proper deportment of his lesser stellar companions, and so "Patriarch Mentor of the Train." This subsequently became Al Haris al Simak, "the Keeper of Simak", probably referring to Spica, "the Unarmed One".

From the Arabic title came various forms: Al Bamec, Aramec, Aremeah, Ascimec, Azimech, and Azimeth, Somech haramach, Aramakh, Kheturus.

Al Biruni mentioned Arcturus as the Second Calf of the Lion, the early Asad (Lion) in early Arabian astronomy; Spica being the First Calf.

The Greeks had a word meaning "Javelin-bearer", while Bayer had Gladius, Kolanza, and Pugio, all applied to Arcturus, which probably marked in some early drawing the "Sword", "Lance", or "Dagger" in the Hunter's (Orion) hand. Similarly it took the title Alkameluz of the whole constellation.ï¿½

It has been identified with the Chaldaeans' Papsukal, "the Guardian Messenger", the divinity of their 10th month Tibitu.

On the Euphrates it was the Shepherd of the Heavenly Flock, or the Shepherd of the Life of Heaven, undoubtedly the Sib-zi-anna of the inscriptions; the star eta (Mufrid) being often included in this, and thus making one of the several pairs of Euphratean Twin Stars.

Another title was Audiens, which seems unintelligible unless the word be a misprint for Audens, the "Bold One".

With others it was Arturig and Ariture, or the Carlwaynesterre from the early confusion in applying the title Arcturus to Charles' Wain as well as to Bootes and its lucida.

Bootes is the cultivator or Ploughman who drives the Bears, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor around the Pole Star, Polaris. The bears, tied to the Polar Axis, are pulling a plough behind them, tilling the heavenly fields "in order that the rotations of the heavens should never cease".

Manilius 1st century AD writes "they will be kings under kings and ministers of state, and be charged with the guardianship of the people, custodianship of great houses and treasures, who confine their business to the care of another's home so that the wealth of monarchs and temple finances will be in their keeping".

Any type of occupation that requires planning is influenced by Bootes. These people are the driving force behind government and large corporations. They are the planners and designers, the movers and shakers, who "make the world go round". Bootes symbolizes the elder, the sage, the wise old man who is interested in principles and underlying causes, theories, ideologies, and how the past effects the future. (Conservative) politicians, economists, draftsmen, architects, designers of all kinds.

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gard3nias · 3 months ago

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date: 05/10/2024

mdi // masterlist // playlist

—Now playing: Fast Car by Tracy Chapman ✫

The Jeon's three-story rustic mansion was built almost half a century ago thanks to the grandfather’s doing. The building sat proudly in the centre of a wide land, practically hidden away from the heat of town. It barely had neighbours if not nearly fifteen minutes away by foot. The closest living beings around it were trees, just feet away from the field outside the fence.

The entrance was symbolised by a great black iron gate hinged to the medium-tall brick fence. The only thing keeping possible intruders off was the short black iron fencing running upon the brick wall imitating the spiked look of a mediaeval spear.

Behind the gate was a freshly mown smooth green field briefly interrupted by the sandy slithering path leading to the mansion, wider when aligned with the gate and smaller as it approached the double door of the building.

The external walls of the edifice were rather made of grey bricks or stone, similar to a castle. Its main trait was natural light: the mansion comprised numerous windows of various styles. The frontage wasn’t a smooth horizontal wall. It was only in the centre and round in the corners hence the tall windows, going from the floor to the ceiling, on the bottom and first floor and the arched ones on the top floor right beneath the dark triangular roof.

Within the thick walls of the majestical building lived a family of four with four ulterior pets: three dogs for the older son and a recently adopted kitten for the younger one. Despite this, the house was often dead silent: the parents worked from morning till evening—they also often had business trips to attend to, the youngest was mostly in his room with his kitten studying or playing video games and the oldest was rarely at home—he’d rather hang out with his friends or if he must, he’d stay in his room playing video games but for the past week, Jungkook couldn’t indulge in this routine.

Thanks to his parents, the mansion was ready to welcome almost a hundred teenagers for his highly-awaited party. His family would stay at their grandparents’ place for the night so he had full control over the building. Thanks to Adrielle, he had an excuse to throw a party. Thanks to Jimin, the catering was settled. Thanks to Avyanna, a community blog for the juniors and seniors was created and the party was announced. Thanks to Taehyung, very nice pictures of his majestic mansion were taken and published with the announcement.

As he had already planned, the party would be shared across two different moments: the evening and the night. He didn’t want anything too fancy because it’s not his character. The dress code was simple—not too slutty nor too snobbish. Dinner was set to be at half past seven. He wanted it to be at eight but he knew Adrielle had to give her whole presidential type of speech so he had to reserve thirty minutes for her. The party he likes begins at half past nine—here too he wasn’t respecting his personal wishes because he’d have the night start at ten or even later but he doesn’t know if some of the guests have a curfew to respect so in order to have them have a little fun before leaving, he was obliged to set the time at half past nine and not later—he was following Avyanna’s advice really.

Avyanna: “Hello everyone. I am Avyanna. For those who don’t know me, I’m running in the campaign alongside Adrielle Hawthorne. I created this community blog in order to communicate with all the junior and senior year students of our school. Today, I’m writing to inform you of the upcoming party organised by my teammate Jeon Jungkook. The party will be held at his place exactly a week from now, next Friday. You are all invited.”

That was how the announcement began before Jungkook intervened, giving all the details regarding the dress code, the hours and the food. That was enough for the school to be nosier, the sounds similar to buzzing bees. While in the gym, after basketball and volleyball practices, the changing rooms welcomed sounds similar to rumbling thunders from the males and chirping birds from the females, the classrooms were noisy both during lessons and especially during the breaks.

The announcement came on Friday and on Monday, during the break, Cleo couldn’t talk about anything else.

“His house is enormous and so beautiful”“We’ve been there a handful of times because he likes throwing parties up and down.”“Oh, my God. You don’t know half of it!”“I don’t even have anything to wear, shit!”

Daphne couldn’t care less though. Cleo talked about it on their way to school, during class, during recess, after school with her teammates or with Daphne on the bus. She just couldn’t shut up about it. It didn’t bother Daphne for two reasons: first, in their friendship, she’s the listener and Cleo’s the talker; second, the party didn’t interest her because she had no intention of going since she had to study.

Being a better talker than a listener, Cleo just went on, dragging Daphne behind sometimes to explore the mall in hopes of finding the right dress. They went on Saturday, Monday and that day, on Tuesday. Nick, James and Asher went their way while the girls went theirs, arms linked and almost hopping around.

For how many times they’ve hung out together, Daphne was progressively getting familiar with the town. Ever since the picnic, she started going out by herself to discover what she liked of the town and she’d managed to find a nice coffee shop, a little bookstore and a shop of peculiar artefacts. For over a week now, she’s been going to the library to study and soon it also became very familiar to her. She was settling down. In the meantime, the prioritised task sitting at the top of her To-Do list was studying physics.

"Since many of you failed it, I'll give you above a month to prepare and that leaves us... in the last week of November. I'm giving you this much time meaning there won't be any second chances. The study is autonomous but you can always ask me questions. Until then, we'll move on to the next topic."

Those words have been replaying in her head like an old broken record and she wasn’t complaining. It spurred her to study so much that she’d been waking up earlier than usual just to study a bit before starting the day. After school, whenever she wasn’t at the library, she spent her time revising what she studied in the morning and making even more Post-it notes to stick onto her walls. Within a week, her bathroom mirror was almost fully covered with the little posters—it even scared Dayanne when she caught a glimpse of it during a video call and her father a bit when he was helping her tidy her room on Saturday. He jokingly brought it up with the mother but she took it seriously and believed their daughter needed to get a little distracted. Don’t blame the woman. The last time Daphne was so focused on the subject, she failed the test and sobbed so hard. She doesn't want to watch such a shitshow anymore, especially since her daughter is starring in it.

Cleo shared the same idea. She never spoke with her friend’s mother about it but there was no need. It was evident. Yes, she’s the talker in the duo but she’s not blind. She spends so much time with Daphne, enough to know what the girl could be up to in her free time—especially when she brings out her physics book and notebook to IRC class. Cleo’s been blabbing nonstop about the party because Daphne still hasn’t matched her vibe. She hadn’t expressed half a word about it and Cleo knew that it meant she didn’t want to go. She wouldn’t force her, no. She’d try to persuade her with words or, like she’s planning, with things, objects, dresses.

—Now playing: Loop by Yves, Lil Cherry ✫

“So the dress code is simple. A party that is half formal and half party-party. Y’know what I mean?” their arms were still linked, pace almost coordinated as their shoes clicked on the reflecting bright tiles of the mall. Different songs coming from different stores were shuffling together. The crowd was not as thick as usual, so they soon reached their first stop out of the many clothing stores welcomed in the shopping mall.

As they stepped in, the shuffling stopped and a runway-like song played through the speakers. The ceiling was covered by milk-coloured panels interrupted by black lines of ceiling lights. The walls and the tiles were of the same colour. The space was shared in various aisles thanks to the wide squared pillars against which were dressed mannequins. Shirts, dress shirts, gowns and sweaters were hung. Short stalls welcomed folded pairs of trousers, jeans and shorts.

Daphne's head turned left and right looking for something that would spike her interest. Cleo stopped by a row of headbands looking at Daphne implying that the one she was touching was cute. Daphne nodded and smiled before they both proceeded past it.

“So what are you looking for?” She asked for the third time that week. Their pace, slower than before. Bringing her phone out of her pocket, Cleo launched onto Pinterest, rushing to the board she’d created exactly for this occasion. “Whatchu think about this?” she showed her the phone. “It’s giving uni clubbing, don’t it?” From what Daphne read in the community blog, the pictures sitting on Cleo’s board hit the jackpot. Cute enough for a party but formal enough for the first half of the party. She nodded and, following what she’d just seen, she started helping Cleo in the search.

“You pick for me, I’ll pick for you,” Cleo suggested before going her way, giving Daphne no time to explain that she had no intention of going to the party. A part of her regretted not going because there wasn’t any other reason for her not to. If she hadn’t failed that test, she wouldn’t be feeling so pressured to study, she would’ve simply agreed, having no reason to skip out on a good time with her friends. Yes, she was sure Nick, James and Asher would tag along because they expressed their interest during recess with Cleo. The thing is that if she were to agree nonetheless, she feared she’d be worrying about her studies even during the party and there would be nothing shittier than that.

She found a grey sparkling strapless top she thought was cute but, feeling like Cleo rocked warmer tones harder, she looked for a golden one. Once she found it, she immediately moved to the bottom section in search of a good match but on her way there, she found another possible choice, an off-shoulder see-through black long sleeve and its matching top. For the first top, she ended up finding a black micro skirt while she had trouble with the second one, indecisive whether to go for the long body cone leopard print skirt or a pair of low-rise trousers.

On the other side of the store, Cleo’s arms held many clothes. She believed Daphne was the type of person to rock any piece of clothing you throw her way and, having choice problems, she couldn’t come down to one outfit and just took everything with herself.

Since Daphne loved low-rise bottoms, she picked two pairs of slightly flared low-rise jeans, a jeans mini-skirt and a pair of micro leather shorts she believed Daphne wouldn’t wear but she wanted to see her put it on. As for the tops, she knew Daphne would go for something simple and cover it up with a leather or a biker jacket. On her arm she slung a satin strapless red top, a brown lacy backless tube top and many more tops she felt like Daphne had to get. She’d pay for it herself since her father gave her his credit card so Daphne had no excuses—with Cole out of the picture, in the city for his studies, Cleo would be getting spoiled.

—Now playing: Forever by Babymonster ✫

The two girls finished choosing and met at the changing rooms. The first one to start her fashion show was Cleo. Their school bags were set aside as Daphne sat on the soft chair and waited for her friend to come out.

“Oh, my God. This shirt is so cute!” Cleo squealed from behind the curtain gaining a smile she couldn’t see from Daphne who was glad of making the right choices. “Oh, Lord. I feel like I’ll end up buying everything.” Another smile from the friend as she opened her camera to check her makeup and take a little funny selfie right before Cleo sprung out of the changing room.

“Now… how do I look?” she sang.

“Now… how do I put it? Gorgeous? Beautiful? Stunning? Which one?” Daphne matched the energy getting up to make her friend spin a little. The first fit she tried was the see-through black long-sleeve and the leopard print long skirt. “Okay, you look hot,” she confessed cupping her face in amazement. Cleo giggled, spinning around one last time before heading to check herself out in the mirror.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed, hands on her waist and hitting different poses. “If I were to wear this what do you think I should do with my make-up and my hair?” Daphne walked up to her friend and placed her chin on her shoulder to imagine.

“You think I should flat-iron my hair—”

“Absolutely not. I love them curly. I think you could tie them in a bun and leave out a few curly strands. Match it with some golden hoop earrings, bracelets and a few rings and you’re good to go.” Daphne gestured around like an actual stylist before stopping to play with her friend’s curls.

“And for the shoes?”

“Anything but sneakers or boots. The skirt covers your feet so I’d wear just a cute thing in case they poke out.” Nodding, Cleo typed the ideas into her notes application before hopping in to change into the next outfit.

Seeing her dressed so nicely really made Daphne regret not going. She too wanted to dress like that and rock her fit with her friend at the party but she had different priorities at the moment and she had to tend to them.

The next one was an all-brown fit: a simple long-sleeved short dress with a black wide belt at the height of her hips. “This one will be fire with a pair of tall leather boots,” Daphne exclaimed, back on her feet. The dress had a mildly deep V-cut exposing a little bit of cleavage, just enough. As Cleo placed herself in front of the mirror, occasionally turning around to check if her butt would be out if she bent over, Daphne started adjusting her hair and explaining all the possible ways she could style them.

“I’m telling you. You need a very cute pendant necklace. Instead of hoops, we’ll go for the long earrings and the final touch would be a red leather purse. Ooh! Match it with some nice red lipstick. Gosh, I should be a fashion adviser or something,” the two chuckled before it went silent all over again, throwing Daphne off.

“You like it? Is it too revealing? You know that you mustn’t wear it, right—”

“No, it’s not… it’s just that…” she didn’t know how to express herself.

“I’ve never felt this pretty?”“I didn’t know I could look like this?” How would she put it?

“I really really like it. That’s all,” Daphne looked into her friend’s eyes through the mirror a bit longer before smiling and taking her words. “You’ll take it?”

“Obviously, regardless of the party,” Daphne clapped, glad with the answer and spurred her to proceed on to the next outfit.

—Now playing: Sexy to Someone by Clairo ✫

“There goes the hottest girl in town!” Daphne’s rosy cheeks were a direct consequence of Cleo’s squealed compliment. They were simply warm when she was changing and saw her reflection in the mirror but after hearing her friend’s words, they decided to pick a shade that matched their temperature.

Daphne’s legs were clad in the mildly flared dark brown, dirt wash jeans chosen by Cleo. Her upper body was covered by a backless lacy top secured at her back by a messily done knot. The black top was triangular towards the navel, in contrast with the straight line of the jeans, and decorated with little brown pearls.

Without the need for any reminder, Cleo immediately got into character, adjusting Daphne’s hair and advising her on what jewellery to wear—all the while ignoring the suspect within her of Daphne’s refusal to attend the party.

“You need big golden earrings. Not necessarily hoops. Just a nice and noticeable shape to parade. Lots of bracelets and rings. I know you’d top it with a biker jacket and… it could match but just a leather jacket would rock harder.” Daphne looked at her reflection in the mirror reminiscing the last time she was this much dressed.

It was Margot’s birthday. Not the glam type. It had the looks of a little teenage party where flocks of irresponsible teens gather to get drunk and do stupid things. She wore a lacy black see-through shirt. Her black bra, in view. Her parents didn’t fully see her outfit as she headed out since she hid it under her thick jacket otherwise, she surely would’ve been dressed differently. Her bottom was covered by a brown jeans mini-skirt, and her legs were wrapped in the soft material of her black tights. At last, her feet were deep inside a pair of knee-high brown boots. The makeup wasn’t that crazy: just a thicker eyeliner and a darker shade of lipstick than usual. Her belongings were in the little bag hanging by her shoulder and her hair wasn’t styled out of the ordinary—just refreshed bangs.

When she’d walked in, she immediately felt like she would’ve gone deaf, eardrums convex, trying to escape the loud music. The room was dark, lit only by random LED lights. The place smelled too much like alcohol and cigarettes for it to be a party held by sixteen-year-olds. The sole reason she even attended at all was the party host, the birthday girl.

Daphne didn’t know if the front door was closed behind her as she walked in. Got startled by a group of screaming friends and a couple making out against the wall. They were surely drunk because it looked messy as fuck—could induce anyone to throw up just at the sight. The walk from the front door to the heart of the party in the living room felt hours long because of the number of people who thought it was wise of them to stand in the not-so-wide hallway and block the way. Once she did arrive, the person she was looking for was nowhere to be found. Just more drunk teenagers, dancing bodies and face-eating ones in the corners. So she immediately moved to the kitchen.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been at Margot’s. In fact, considering the uncountable amount of times, Daphne basically knew her way around by heart and yet, at that party, the place suddenly appeared unfamiliar, easily got confused after taking a second step.

She sighed in relief when she found her friend behind the counter in the kitchen but right when she moved to approach her, her feet decided to stay stuck on the floor. She’d never seen Margot like that. It was crazy. Doing shots on someone’s body, screaming, dancing—if you can call it that because she was visibly drunk.

It wasn’t Daphne’s first time at the house but the first time at a party like this. Margot had begged her to come since it was her sixteenth birthday and, after lots of hesitation and pleading, Daphne agreed as long as Margot would always be there with her because she didn’t want to get uncomfortable. Doesn’t like things that are too crazy—especially when you have sixteen-year-olds, minors, in the picture. Margot promised her that, happily clapping but, right at that moment, the ones clapping were the people around her after she took another shot of whatever the fuck was in that plastic cup.

A part of Daphne really wanted to turn on her heels and leave like she never came but she’d be overwhelmed by guilt because Margot won’t stay drunk forever, she’d come back to her senses and know she never came so she pushed on and approached her friend without going straight into the heat. She stood aside, blending in with the bystanders, arms crossed on her chest. She didn’t know what to do. Felt too shy to go in and go like: “Hey, Margot. I’m here!”. Felt too uncomfortable to step in at all, into that circle of momentarily mentally unstable kids. So she waited, hoping that by the time Margot would see her, the crowd would have thinned out and fewer eyes would be around.

But that is the funny thing about life: it has fun shoving what would dislike right into your face like a cake. The friend screamed Daphne’s name so loudly that all the heads present turned around to look at her. Margot messily pushed through the crowd and made her way to Daphne.

“I’m so happy you came!” she squealed, enveloping the friend in a very tight and alcohol-smelling hug. Daphne pushed a feeble smile through the discomfort, barely having any time to reciprocate the gesture before Margot pulled back and pulled her in.

“You should have a drink.” She sounded on drugs like someone losing their sense of reasoning. The voice, the tone and, most especially, the very little distance between their faces when she lurched forward to speak. She probably almost lost her balance but Daphne remembers instinctively moving backwards.

Blinking a few times, she came back to the present, now facing her reflection in the mirror and not any type of messy memory. She refused to let such an experience condemn her ideas about parties because she knew all of them wouldn’t be like that and, right at that moment, a great part of her regretted deciding not to go to the party because she would’ve rocked the outfit so hard—especially considering the people attending.

She couldn’t lie to anyone, not even herself, and say she wasn’t looking perfect. The outfit complimented every little detail of her features, showing the best in her and she liked it. Turned left, turned right and posed, all with a shy little smile on her lips. In the background were Cleo’s incessant compliments.

“A nice pair of pointy boots or heels and, girl, you’ll be killing them with your looks.” Daphne giggled without stopping with the poses but she wasn’t as excited as Cleo whose hands were clapping nonstop the more poses she hit.

“I don’t care if you’re coming or not, I’m getting this for you if you won’t get it yourself. Can’t gatekeep this beauty.” Daphne laughed, now looking at Cleo as though she wanted her to stop with the compliments because she didn’t know how to behave and was getting all shy instead but the friend just went on before encouraging her to go for the next fit.

“Girl, you’re to die for!”

So, in the end, despite her refusal, Cleo bought her every single piece of clothing she brought for her to try because, in her words, “You rock them better than anyone. You’re so fucking beautiful!” Each of them had at least three bags hanging by each hand and a backpack by their shoulders. Cleo, overly excited, couldn’t stop talking about how many jaws would be scraping the ground the day Daphne would rock those clothes out while Daphne tried so hard to fight against the warm shades coming up on her cheeks like a rolling filmstrip.

But this Cleo didn’t know. She just believed that Daphne wasn’t really in the mood. They’ve gone shopping these days and, despite Daphne's refusal, Cleo opted that today Daphne would get herself something so she wouldn’t look like she’s tagging along for the simple sake of it.

The last time they had really hung out was at the picnic but days have passed since then. Cleo doesn’t classify herself as an overthinker—she likes going with the flow and handling life as it presents itself to her—but she fears the picnic did nothing to Daphne. She feared that the foolish physics test broke her friend and there was no going back.

She was fearing for nothing because the picnic did work for Daphne. Really helped her calm down so now she’s simply Daphne, just with a physics test to ace. She didn’t change. Only her schedule did. She’d probably too when the official date starts inching closer.

If she had known, she would’ve explained it to her and her friends as well. Nick and James were really worried—James the most. Asher believed that time would soothe the injuries. The first two hate time. Feel like there is never enough for them to do anything so surely there wasn’t enough to heal wounds. They liked taking control of their own destiny, going against time so they invited Daphne to come pick them up after their practice.

Cleo wanted to object to that. The wording was weird and she didn’t know if one picking up their friends consoles sadness. “She’d just have to come like twenty minutes before the end when we play. She can assist, watch the match and then we go home together. Like a little hangout. Not as big as a picnic in the asscrack of the world but just… a hang out.” When he finished explaining, the friends didn’t object and just worked for a way to tell Daphne but they didn’t. They simply told Cleo to do the job.

She wanted out the moment she stepped out of the classroom with Daphne during recess. She didn’t know what to say but knew what answer she’d receive: “I’ve to study. You know…” She knows it by heart now because it had become Daphne’s favourite sentence for the time being.

“Hey, do you mind coming to practice today?” Daphne halts her movements for a split second and raises an eyebrow. “What practice?”

“We have practice today. They play basketball and I play volleyball.”

“Nick, James and Asher?” Cleo nodded and remained silent. “What am I coming to practice for? I don’t practice any sport,”

“The last twenty minutes we play short matches and we thought of inviting you. They probably want to impress you, I don’t know.” Daphne couldn’t see through Cleo’s nervous giggle. She just kept walking, thinking.

“What time?” The question brightened Cleo’s face, instant sunrise. “We practice from four to seven so you can come around half past six or some.” Daphne was still thinking. She didn’t want to immediately hit back with the ‘I got to study’ reply because she herself was getting tired of it—and of studying overall—so she thought about it. She could hang out with them, have lunch together and while they go their way, she goes to the library and studies for two hours before joining them. Yeah, she could do that.

After shopping yesterday, she really felt the urge to leave home and lift her head from books for a bit so the idea didn’t hurt. Made full sense.

“Okay, then. I’ll be joining you then. The gates will be open?” Cleo couldn’t muster a verbal reply. Too happy to, so she simply nodded before wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck into a tight hug that had them both messily walking down the hallway so as not to fall over.

They didn’t know that a certain subject was looking at them from down the hallway, smiling at their happiness. Creepy much? He didn’t know that. Infatuation was all he knew.

—Now playing: Teoria del caos by Nek✫

If anyone were to ask Daphne what her favourite season is, she’d immediately say autumn. Likes the colours, the vibe and the outfits she rocks but she hates the temperature, the chilly breeze that likes to crawl beneath the crack of her clothes, underneath the sweater, the jacket, the leg of her jeans or behind her neck whenever it blew strong enough for her hair to move. She hated the feeling of in-between, having both warm and freezing days.

She would never say summer is her favourite season because it’s too hot and high temperatures stress her out, especially in the city. She doesn’t know to handle it. To conceal that though are the occasional majestic trips she goes on. She’d like to go to the beach but she specifically has a thing for parks. Could spend all her summer break travelling around the world and visiting parks. Likes to see how every country makes theirs.

She likes spring, not as much as autumn, but she still likes it. It’s rainy season and she loves the rain, especially when the aftermath is the growth of flowers and trees. For nature, spring is the new beginning. For humans, especially someone her age, the new beginning is late summer after having the highly-awaited glow-up your YouTube homepage is littered with.

Almost three weeks have gone by, barely one left before October would leave, exit through the front door the same way it came in. Barely a week left before November would arrive with its own guests. Wednesday is the most in-between day of the week, sharing it into two parts—the most hated and the most anticipated days.

The weather was okay. Not rainy, not sunny, not gloomy. Just okay. Simple. A simple October Wednesday evening. By the time she left the library, the source of light was artificial. The sky was closer to reaching its darkest shades and the moon was already peeking through the curtains. Daphne had noticed a stark change in the environment whenever she left the library so late in the day. Within the walls of the building, there seemed to be an everlasting silence that could only be hindered by the sounds of coffee and vending machines being operated in the hallways, the crunchy sound of paper whenever pages are turned, the scratching sound of pencils running on paper or the very soft sound of music coming from headphones whenever you walked past its owner. She revelled in such an ambience. Could come to the library even if she had nothing to study.

Once she pushed the wide glass doors of the entrance and exited the building, the everlasting silence would seize existing almost like the sound of music being abruptly turned off at a party. Cars, bicycles, motorcycles, dogs and pedestrians brought the town to life. Cars roared and honked. Bicycles slid through and rang bells. Motorcycles weren’t as noisy as they are in the city but they never stray too far away from their peers. Dogs barked and pedestrians went on their way just as she was as she walked out of town and into the silent road leading to her school.

She’d never seen how it looked at hours like this so she liked the feeling settling within her, a feeling connected with the satisfaction of discovering new things. There was no one standing outside. No students smoking or gossiping in the corner. No car parking. No parents running after their kids. Just silence, almost tantamount to the one in the library.

She trekked up the little hill leading to the building. As Cleo had stated, the gates were open. Very few lights came from the dead silent main building. Her attention swiftly moved to the next building where lights beamed through almost as hard as the howling sounds of students playing. She checked the time it was almost twenty to seven so she quickened her pace a bit to make sure she wouldn’t miss even a split second of their little matches.

Her feet moved one after the other along the pathway leading to the gym and once she’d reached the huge doors, she dragged them open and went in. The volume of the noise was higher now that she was closer, in the bubble to be exact.

The place wasn’t stinking of sweat as much she believed it would—don’t blame her because, during simple PE classes, very unpleasant fragrancies could make their way into the gym. The howling continued, some screams followed along with the screeching sound of trainers scratching the polyurethane floor as the players moved.

Both the volleyball and the basketball players were present but playing at the moment were the volleyball ones. Her eyes instinctively caught her friends, Nick, James and Asher, as they stood in a corner assisting the match. James gestured for her to join as if she wasn’t already out of free will. She walked along the side of the court without stepping in and reached over to them.

“So glad you came!” Nick exclaimed engulfing her in a heavily sweaty hug that had her screaming for freedom the moment she realised.

“Nick! Oh, my God, how disgusting!” he laughed as he let her go amused by the face she showed. James and Asher laughed as well before they greeted her. Daphne warned that she’d never come again because of his hug.

To apologise, Nick drew her closer but she was already screaming, fearing the worst and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not hugging you again. You ain’t that special,” he joked, gaining a death glare. She didn’t say anything and just looked forward into the court where a very familiar pair of eyes was looking for hers. Cleo waved like a child seeing their parent in the audience at a school play and Daphne happily waved back, uncontrollably smiling.

The girls in the court were in their respective positions, Cleo was in the centre for the time being.

“Coming!” was the opposing team’s scream before the ball was hit into the game. The first person to receive it was a teammate. The ball was passed to the setter before one of the outside hitters hit it into the opposing team’s court.

Daphne’s eyes followed the ball as it was promptly received from a player of the opposing team. They went on like this, up and down, for a few more times before Cleo’s team scored the point. That was the only moment Daphne’s focus would pause, she would happily rejoice with her friends and clap her hands. “Let’s go!” James exclaimed, clapping hard along with some other basketball players.

The ball was passed on to Cleo’s team as the players changed their positions. Daphne didn't know what role Cleo precisely was if she was set to be a libero, a setter or a hitter. She just watched as the ball was hit into the opposing court and her focus returned.

It was easy for her to lose track of time, forgetting the match would eventually come to an end. She enjoyed watching good players play the sport unlike the very messy volleyball matches she’d be having with her classmates during PE class.

Cleo’s team won only thanks to one point, it was very close. The friend happily celebrated with her teammates before hopping like a kangaroo into Daphne’s arms.

“Did you see that?” she exclaimed as Daphne screamed a ‘yes’ in reply, jumping around with her.

“Damn, I thought we would’ve lost exactly the day I told you to come watch,” her breaths were still a bit laboured as she rested against the wall and slid down onto the floor.

“I would’ve fucking laughed in our face if you had!” Nick screamed into her ear before running away to help as they set the net aside and prepared for their match.

“Asshole.” She rasped after getting startled. Daphne laughed and sat down next to her to finally shower her with compliments, claiming that her eyes hadn’t seen such a good thing live her whole life.

She was so focused on her friend as they ran across the court to the bleachers that she didn’t notice the newcomers. The gym doors are loud when they close but the howls of the boys in the court are even more. Cleo disclosed a few details about the match and the sport in general and Daphne listened, wondering how her friend wasn’t feeling too cold dressed in just shorts and a tank top.

Taehyung and Jimin clapped hands with Jungkook as they walked onto the court. Just like Daphne, they came to assist the match. Wasn’t their first time but it was in a long time.

If he too wasn’t too focused on his friends, he would’ve seen Daphne and Cleo gisting at the extreme end of the bleachers but he didn’t. He just settled down on the opposite end next to Jimin.

A few seconds passed and the first whistle was blown for the match to begin.

—Now playing: Simple and Clean by Hikaru Utada✫

Daphne would like to define herself as an understanding person, someone who likes to study why people do, like and hate certain things but whenever it came to silence, she’d never try to reason with whichever extraordinary human despises it. It’s probably connected to her love for reading and studying which implies a silent environment for better enjoyment and learning but she believes it’s something everyone likes. Something everyone needs at some point in life.

Her ears were placing blessings on her when finally the basketball match came to an end and all the players retired to the changing rooms to shower and change.

To say that she savoured the experience was a hefty understatement. What she saw that day would make her add ‘coming here’ to her list of things to do when bored or when she has no idea of somewhere else to go.

To solve the understatement issue, she hooked a leg over the other and jotted down every detail of the event on the pages of her journal. Headphones on playing soft music for better concentration.

Earlier, Daphne stated she’d never seen something so beautiful unfold before her eyes live. Taehyung would’ve argued to that claiming that only the view before his eyes could bear such a title.

She couldn’t see him but he was looking at her, admiring her like she was a piece of art in a museum. He couldn’t get a full view of her face because of where he was and the bangs slipping out from the band of her headphones and onto her face. Her upper body was in the warmth of a big brown aviator jacket. She had a pair of jeans on and platform black All-Stars. Backpack, set aside on the bleachers.

He tried not to stare for too long but couldn’t help it. He was fighting against the urge to fully turn around towards her, one leg bent onto the chair, arms on the headrest and chin upon them as he observed with the glowing eyes of a kid appreciating the beauty of nature.

She was in her own little world, her personal planet and he was the astronaut who’d discovered it and dedicated his time to studying every hook and corner of it. At some point, he’d know it by heart, talk about it to whoever listens and work on the perfect spaceship that would take him there.

She lifted her head, seemingly in thought, and removed her headphones to adjust her hair. Such a simple action and yet his pupils would enlargen so much and his memory could swear nothing as beautiful had ever been registered. The hair was bouncy so, despite the adjustments, they’d go back to being out of place.

If it weren’t for the phone in his hands he used as disguise, what happened next would’ve been great material for his next nightmares. Daphne had looked in his direction, not on purpose, and he instantly moved his eyes down to his phone. Heart, moving from his chest to his ears, his body temperature rose within seconds and suddenly his clothes felt too heavy and thick.

On the other end, Daphne’s eyes were scrambling to look at her journal and not at him. She didn’t know he would’ve been there, or better, she didn’t expect him to be there at all. She saw Jungkook when she walked in and surely when he was playing because he’s among the best players and she did think about Taehyung for a split second before a player would get the ball and bounce it from one end of the court to the other within moments but she didn’t think Taehyung would be present, within the same walls. She wondered for how long he’d been there. If he had assisted the match or just came at the end. She didn’t know. All she was aware of was that her focus was long gone. Left through the large doors of the gym and would totally make no return until the next day if it felt like it. So she found herself seemingly thinking about a word for way too long, leaving the sentence incomplete in her journal.

There was a strange dynamic between the two and they were both oblivious to it. She was too shy to watch and observe and it gave chance for him to admire her. She’d never look in his direction for fear of embarrassing herself while he'd sneakily go on, adding many more pictures of her into his mind.

The same thing happened when they were just a seat away from each other on the bus. It went on till they parted their ways. That day, they’d joined their friends and went to their class. Today, they would join their friends and go home in different moments.

The first to be done were Asher and Cleo whom she joined when they called. She wanted to—oh, God, she really did want to look in Taehyung’s direction as she walked past him. In the corner of her eye, she saw him slightly sprawled on the chair, one ankle over the knee of his other leg, phone in his hands and head hung low on it. His face was barely visible underneath his hair. If she had turned around, she would’ve seen him look at her through his bangs, especially after Cleo and Asher greeted him as they approached her and he took the chance to look in their direction—precisely at her—before going back to his phone.

Someone screaming Cleo’s name and approaching them caught her attention, distracting her from the sudden heat she was feeling.

Jungkook’s main destination was Taehyung but, seeing Cleo, it changed and he walked straight up to her.

“Gosh, I got scared for a moment,” he spoke as they shook hands. “Why’s that?” the girl swiftly replied. He shrugged and pouted, “Thought you’d leave without greeting me.” He feigned being a sad child and she matched the vibe, “Oh, God, no,” she exaggerated as she dragged him in for a hug, “I would never do that.” He made whiny noises as he rested his head on her shoulder, pout still on his lips, allowing Cleo to caress his hair and back like a mother consoling her child. Asher and Daphne chuckled at his behaviour.

“Hey, Daph,” he got serious, patting Cleo’s back before withdrawing from the hug. “Did you like the match?” his hands were slipped into his pockets as he spoke. “Yeah, I did. I’m being very honest when I say that I admire y’all cause I could never. I suck at sports. You have to see me during PE classes,” she laughed. It was simple. It was a conversation and yet in Taehyung’s head, the environment was completely silent, the only sound audible was Daphne’s voice. Finally, he knew what voice to attach to the heavenly person starring in his night and daydreams. He’d heard it before from her stories but hearing it live had to him the same effect of going to your favourite artist’s concert for the first time.

“Oh, my God. That can’t be true. And it’s not hard by the way.” Jungkook had officially managed to weave his way into Daphne and was starting his investigation. She didn’t know this. She just thought he was an extremely extroverted person who made friends the same way one makes their sandwich in the morning. She wouldn’t be wrong anyway.

He was slightly swinging his body around, balancing once on his heels and then on his toes, hands still in his pocket, and biting at his slightly chapped lips as he listened. A little dimple formed in his cheek as he did so.

“No, I’m not lying. I suck,”

“Yeah, man. She really does.” Daphne was about to speak again when she stopped and glared at Asher who immediately chuckled. “Okay, I know I suck but it’s different when you say it so shut up.”

They laughed as she continued, “The guys in my class are so competitive. They take everything so seriously and I’m always scared of trying because I fear I won’t do it correctly and—”

“Okay, okay. They ain’t that harsh,” Asher objected, knowing fully well who she was referring to. “They’re not that harsh? Oh, so you know I’m talking about Nick and James, right? Why are you defending their asses?”

“I’m not defending their asses. I’m just stating facts—”

“Facts, my ass!”

“Why are we suddenly talking about ass so much?” James intervened but everyone ignored him except Jungkook who chuckled.

“Asher, you’ve got to admit that they’re crazy competitive—”

“I agree. Whenever we’re in desperate need of winning, we’ve got to rile them up and victory is assured.” Jungkook butted in, in support of the girls. Daphne clapped her hands, gesturing to him, eyes widened at Asher.

“You see? He says it too and he’s not even in class with us—”

“Exactly, that’s why his statement lacks any value—”

“Hey!” Jungkook acted hurt while the argument went on till James and Nick finished and joined them.

“What’s all this fuss about? You liked the match?” Nick’s questions were addressed to Daphne, eyebrows wiggling.

“Yeah, I did,” Daphne smiled as she answered the second question and then returned to being serious when she wanted to answer the first question.

“Y’all need to sit on a massive block of ice and cool your tits down because you get too competitive and it’s okay when you’re playing basketball not during PE classes when we’re playing stupid dodgeball—”

“You’re saying this because you don’t even try—”

“I don’t even what? I’m running up and down the gym like a mad woman and you say I don’t even try?”

“You run so much and still get hit—”

“Oh forgive me for not being Kid Danger or something! I would try to hit someone but I don’t have enough strength to throw a ball and prevent it from being immediately caught by the opponent!”

“I ain’t Kid Danger and I do just fine. Cleo too—”

“Because that’s the shit y’all be doing when you feel bored. I don’t. I sit in a corner and read. I prefer to train my brain than my skills at dodgeball—”

“You’re unbelievable and anyway, I can’t help it. I get competitive—”

“You fucking scream my name as if I had killed your dog for fuck’s sake!”

“Daphne!” Nick screamed, mimicking exactly what she was talking about.

“Exactly. You see? Jungkook, it’s impossible to do shit. He screams like we’re in the fucking military or something.” They were all laughing and the argument went on until James called for them to leave. He was tired and wanted to sleep. They waved their greetings before Jungkook walked away and sat beside Taehyung.

—Now playing: Road Trippin’ by Red Hot Chili Peppers✫

“Whatchu doing there?” he asked the friend since he’d been on the phone the whole time without bothering to join the conversation. Taehyung shrugged and finally turned the device off, slipping it into his back pocket. Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed a bit but he didn’t let it linger too much. He didn’t know if this was the way to act with the person one was interested in but he couldn’t judge. His ways were blunt: Jungkook likes you? Jungkook will talk to you. Immediately. Time’s precious, time’s money.

“So what do you think of the new girl?” I think her name’s Daphne.” Like a robot, Taehyung’s brain immediately connected ‘Daphne’ to ‘Lauri’. Her real name is Daphne.

“What do I have to think about her?” he smiled.

“Don’t know. She’s cute, that’s for sure.” They both stretched out on the chair, sighing out.

“She’s your new interest, huh?” Taehyung was still smiling, almost smirking. Jungkook wasn’t looking at him but he could sense it, imagine it.

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that. I’m just getting to know her. Adding someone new to my never-ending list of friends.” Jungkook didn’t know if Taehyung was testing the waters and dragging out specific answers from him. All he knew was that if that was the case, they were warranted.

Jungkook’s notorious for always getting what he wants, even when it comes to people so if he happened to be interested in Daphne, he’d surely work his way to her but he couldn’t because he’s not ready for commitment and already shagging one person from his school, close to him, is more than enough—doesn’t one another person to add to the list of people to be cautious about. Moreover, Taehyung is clearly interested in the girl. He’s trying to hide it but his friend sees right through that.

Taehyung isn’t as promiscuous as Jungkook can be. He too had his times but they were not as frequent. The last he’d flirted with a girl was during summer for the sole reason of it being summer so, once he was back to school, he cut connections with the girl. Another stark difference between the boys was commitment. Jungkook wanted to freely fly around like a bird while Taehyung didn’t mind perching onto the same tree for a bit longer—if it met his taste—before taking off—if needed.

Jungkook’s ‘relationships’ could last a few months at best. He liked one-time things. Felt like commitment was for when he’d be more mature, when he would be grown up and his parents would pressure him with the need for grandchildren.

Taehyung, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to start a relationship and would stay through it all. He has a few exes but not as many as Jungkook and they all came from a somewhat long relationship. Not year long—only one—but certainly more than six months. The way he looked at Daphne implies he’d start a serious relationship if fate leads him there. He knows that himself and it’s what he’s working on but things would be very different if Jungkook is interested in her. Yes, he has the right to shag anyone he wants but Taehyung would prefer that person to not be the same he’s very interested in, someone he’s looking up to for something more, not just sex.

“Don’t think you’ll ever move on from Cleo anyway,” he chuckled, easing the forming tension that was growing—at least from Jungkook’s point of view. The way Taehyung was throwing the questions and smiling through it meant something more.

“Oh, my God! She’s just a friend and a very good volleyball player for which I’m a great fan of hers—”

“Yes, yes. You fear you’ll have dreams of commitment at night if you don’t say that?”

“Taehyung, seriously—”

“You’re getting too defensive.” He chuckled, raising his hands in defence and Jungkook simply gave up, not ready to have the conversation for the umpteenth time in his life.

—Now playing: Take a Bite by Beabadoobee✫

In the meantime, Daphne and her friends arrived just in time before the bus left the terminal and headed towards their homes.

The sky was now fully dark since it was getting closer to eight. The late hour allowed them to have space and enough seats to settle upon during their journey. Daphne and Cleo were in their usual spots and the boys, scattered around them.

“Whatchu doing?” Cleo asked, poking her head to look into Daphne’s phone. “Texting my mom about my whereabouts.” They all heard the reply and remained silent not because of what she said but because a different thought bogged their minds.

“Hey, ehm…” Asher was the one to speak, “We were planning a sleepover at mine.” Daphne’s eyebrows jumped up at the information, almost surprised.

“Ooh, that’s nice.” The answer and smile on her face were exactly what they were all looking for but they didn’t want to celebrate victory too early. “Isn’t it funny how y’all always say ‘we’? Why do y’all plan things without me?” she was joking, or, at least, she wasn’t serious but she meant what she said. It was the truth. Her smile confused her friends though. They didn’t know if she was pissed or not.

“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit,” James began, believing she was pissed, “We placed the sleepover on Friday at Asher’s because he’s basically neighbours with Jungkook so after we return from the party, we stay at his for the night.” James rapped this in one breath but his face was serious, tired of running around the bush—the boy is sleepy.

Daphne’s jaw hung low in bewilderment. Here she was, all sad about not attending the party and her friends plan to do something even greater such as a fucking sleepover. How would she not agree to this?

“I’m not pissed at the fact that y’all organize stuff. I just wanted to put it out there.” She first clarified, feeling like all their eyes were on her. “And second, that’s a very great idea but—”

“I fucking knew it—”

“We fucking knew it—”

“What?” Daphne chuckled, knowing what they claimed to be aware of. “I’m sorry guys, really—”

“Daph? Fuck physics—”

“You’ve been studying for it like a freak—”

“Remember we failed the test too and yet, here we are.”

“And that’s because y’all handle your anxiety better than I do. You don’t feel the pressure, you’re calm so you study just as normally. I get anxious at the simple thought of the official day eventually coming by—”

“So it’s God’s wish for you to have met us. It’s time you free yourself from those shackles and become someone new. Someone better so we have to start by taking little steps. Let’s all have this fucking sleepover together.” Maybe it was the tiredness, Daphne thought, but she’d never heard James speak so seriously about anything not to talk about a topic like this. She had no intention to drop a bomb on them and tell them that she sought freedom not from shackles but from Anxiety’s claws but she also didn’t know what to do.

“Should I go with the flow and join them? Say ‘fuck this’?”

“Guys, I don’t know… I fear I’ll be thinking about it even at the sleepover—”

“Fuck no, you won’t because we won’t give you the chance—”

“I feel very offended, Daph. Why would you think it’s possible to think about boring stuff when you have us in the room?” Nick smiled, wrapping an arm around James’s neck and dragging him closer, presenting them as the object of his sentence. James’s face, though, was serious.

“What if I tell you that I’ll think about it?”

“Okay, then.” James rasped, taking his phone out. He typed a few things Daphne didn’t know about before turning the device to show her the screen. “You have ten minutes starting from now—”

“Oh, my God, James!” They all laughed at his frustration, finding him ulteriorly funny when he was tired. The boy slumped on his chair, resting his head back and closing his eyes. Daphne softly smiled. Had run out of excuses—she also knew that if the news reached her mother’s ears, she wouldn’t be able to escape it and with Cleo-bigmouth around, there was no way to run away from it.

“Okay, okay—”

“Oh, my God, what?” They all snapped their heads in her direction. “Erm, I was just kidding about the timer. I’m not trying to force you—”

“No, I’m serious. I was already hesitating about going or not but since we’ll also be having a sleepover together…” her smile appeared to be contagious. It slowly grew on her friends’ faces before they all jumped in happiness, startling a few other passengers on board.

“Fuck, yeah!” James hugged her tightly, dragging her closer and rubbing the top of her head to ruffle her hair. “Fuck you!” she screamed, mimicking his voice. She knew what he was doing and tried to fight against it but before she could free herself, the rest joined in for a huge hug.

“Oh, my God! Y’all! Stop!” Her scream and laugh were muffled underneath James’s arms and her friends’ hug.

—Now playing: Magnetic by ILLIT✫

Thursday is normally a heavy day for multiple reasons. First, it’s the day before Friday, a highly awaited day, so the anticipation makes one get lazy earlier than they should. Second, being just a day away from the weekend, one has to finish everything they’ve planned so they can lounge around till Monday rolls around again.

For Daphne, it was just another school day. Wake up earlier, get ready, have breakfast, join Cleo and catch the bus, get to school, follow in the different classes of the day, ease her legs’ muscles during recess with a little walk around, get back to class and follow the remaining lessons before the next break and, eventually, the last bell of the day. By two, all the classes were empty. Hallways packed as the students happily exited the building.

Nick and James are neighbours therefore they go home by car together thanks to Nick’s mother. Asher rides his bike home because he considers it a way to exercise without having to hit the gym. At last, Daphne and Cleo catch the bus home as they’re used to.

It was the party’s eve and Daphne’s anxious tendencies were knocking at the door and picking through the windows to see if anyone was home. Luckily for her and thanks to Cleo, the outfit was ticked out of her list of problems. In its place was the sleepover. She had to get tons of things ready for it since she wouldn’t be staying in the comfort of her home.

She’d asked permission from her parents first, obviously, and just as she expected, her mother agreed happily, glad she was willingly thinking about hanging out.

“Go, my darling. Have fun!” words that masked the real thing she wanted to say: “Ooh! I’m so happy you’re taking a break from studying. Please have so much fun you won’t think about school for at least twenty-four hours.”

Daphne had a little anxious shenanigan while texting Dayanne about it, asking for advice and tips. Her mother borrowed her a bag big enough to welcome everything she’d like to take with her and now it proudly sat in the centre of her bed empty. The content was still scattered around the room, some were on her bed, some still in her wardrobe and others in their respective spots.

Her phone was well placed on her desk. On the screen, she was on a video call with her friends. Cleo was at her place, her phone placed on a similar surface as hers as she read the announcement out loud to all her friends. Nick, James and Asher were in their rooms as well. The first was digging into his wardrobe, the second sat on his bed listening while the other one was handling other things off-camera.

“I don’t know for y’all but the first half of the party gives me Gossip Girl vibes if you know what I mean.” Cleo had finished reading and was drawing her conclusions from it.

“No, I don’t know what you mean.”“What’s Gossip Girl”

“Oh, god. Y’all can’t be serious.” Cleo’s jaw was hanging low as she fully faced the camera to look at who she was speaking to. Asher took the phone and brought it closer to his face as if he were checking himself out in the mirror.

“I ain’t smiling or smirking so no, I think I’m serious.” He replied, gaining a chuckle of disbelief from the friends and a heavy eye-roll from Cleo. “Ha-ha, so funny. Gossip Girl is a TV series about rich kids messing around basically.” Cleo’s face was great material for a meme as she spoke, death-glaring Asher who couldn’t hold back from chuckling. Reactions like this boost his serotonin levels.

“Well, basically what I meant was that the first half will give serious rich shit type of vibes. Only the second half will be the normal party we could be expecting.”

“Well, it is for their campaign anyway. They’re trying to get votes so they can’t just bring drugs, alcohol and shit like that to make everyone happy—”

“Besides, you can never trust anyone with that shit.” James cackled, getting off his bed.

“I think what’s really important is the time so we know how to go about everything.”

“Exactly. I don’t think y’all will have the time to go home before getting to mine.” Asher’s face was off-camera. The volume of his voice wavered as if he was bending around and adding pressure to his stomach.

“I could ask my grandfather to come pick us up,” Daphne suggested. She was not sitting on the chair anymore but was busy folding her PJs on her bed. “Nick and James live closer to you and they go home by car so I don’t think we have any problems.” Daphne’s reasoning cleared all doubts in Asher’s mind and soon the topic moved to everything they had to bring and whatnot since it was available at his place.

And it went exactly as planned. Daphne’s grandfather was more than glad to come pick the girls up. Spent time in the car waiting before the bells rang and admired his granddaughter, reminiscing the times she was a little child and loved running up to him to be carried.

Daphne and Cleo didn’t see this through his happiness. They were just glad they weren’t disturbing him. He asked them about school, how their day went and if they had any upcoming tests. Then he quickly moved the topic to ask about what they’d planned for the sleepover and the party. Cleo gladly answered the question, being the talkative person that she was and soon they were having a great conversation. Daphne just listened, smiling at the interaction and the immense comfort she felt. It felt like family.

Once they got home, the grandfather urged them to hurry up, have lunch, get their stuff and call him as soon as they had. The girls giggled and flew to their rooms like little kids after an adult playfully threatened to catch them if they didn’t run away.

Daphne had spent the whole previous evening setting up everything she needed so the bag was full and well-prepared, placed aside on a stool. She was very excited about everything, glad she’d agreed because she knew she would’ve spent the night imagining the fun her friends were having and regretting not going. Loki and Luke understood her energy and matched it, hopping around with her as she talked to them about her plans for the night as if they’d understand her words.

They hopped and happily barked behind her as she went downstairs to have lunch, feet thumping on the stairs.

“I see that someone’s excited,” her father sang looking at the three subjects that just entered the kitchen. Daphne nodded with a wide smile on her face, jumping with her dad in a hug as if a rush of energy surged through her nerves. Loki and Luke kept walking around them, tails waving from left to right and tongues out. Once she broke away from the hug, Loki barked, huffing up and down, and wanting to stand on his paws as if to grab Daphne in a hug as well.

“The party is half formal, half party because it’s like for a campaign or something.” She took a plate from the dispenser and served herself the freshly prepared risotto. After taking the first spoonful, she immediately recognised the cook to be Granny.

“Half party?” Her father had served himself too and joined her at the table. While the mother had already eaten since she had things to do in the afternoon, he always waited for Daphne to be back from school so they could have lunch together and he could listen to her.

“Yeah. The hosts are running in the campaign to become the school representatives basically.” The words were quickly spoken with very brief breaks in between so she could take another spoonful of the amazing dish sitting before her.

“Wow. That’s cool.” Daphne hummed and nodded, refusing to speak again for the next few seconds so she’d eat a bit more. “Damn, this food is awesome.” Her father watched her as she downed the food. A warm smile altered his facial expression. He was glad that she was okay despite the scary look her bathroom mirror now had.

“When are y’all leaving?”

“Asher said that Cleo and I could change in his older sister’s former bedroom so I think we’ll be leaving shortly after lunch.”

—Now playing: Alright by Kitty Craft ✫

“Don’t worry, I set it correctly. The navigator will lead us there.”

Daphne was sitting in the front, keeping her grandpa company and holding the phone where the navigator explained how they could get to Asher’s place. In the backseat, Cleo had the pleasure of having as company their bags for the sleepover.

“Oh, my God. All these new devices are so hard to understand.” The old man chuckled, turning the engine on and after revising out of the neighbourhood, they were on the road heading to Asher’s home. Daphne chuckled as well asking if he was used to road maps and that was how their conversation began with the calming sound of music playing lowly from the radio.

It was just past three. They’d eaten at the speed of light because they didn’t know exactly how long it would take them to get ready. The day was still bright but the breeze was chilly especially since they were in a moving vehicle. The hour caused them to meet no traffic as they drove along the same road the girls take to go to school.

Daphne had felt the chills when she came out of the house but they rushed in the car and after turning the heater on for a little she completely forgot about the low temperatures. Outside, alongside the road, were the fields that left an impression in her the day she drove here for the first time. They were getting emptier as the days went by because of the season. Daphne knew where all the farmers and farm animals could be because, far in the distance, she could see a tall farmhouse but it was so far away she could barely make out the details. She wondered how everyone there faired, how they’d go about the upcoming winter. She wondered how cosy it could feel and looked there, certain the hitting system came from a fireplace. Probably, right beside it, there was a nicely organized pile of wood destined to burn next in the fire. But she also guessed there’d be a distinct smell there, the smell of a farm which doesn’t necessarily imply animal feces. Daphne believed farmhouses had their own peculiar scent and it fascinated her. A scent that tells you that animals are around.

As far as she was concerned, every house had its own smell, even back in the city. One doesn’t need animals around for it to exist. A lot of people smell the same way their houses do. For example, Granny always smells like flowers because her home is littered with it, no nook or corner is spared. The smell is even on her grandfather who cannot go without smoking at least once a day.

If you were to ask her about hers, she’d say it smelled like home, a scent that made her think about the intimacy of a close-knit family. Maybe it was related to the love she quickly developed for her new home but, truly, to her the house still has the smell it had the first day she moved here, the smell that welcomed her when she opened the front door, when she walked along the living room and kitchen, when she ran upstairs and opened the doors to her room. Exactly, to her, her bedroom smells like the softener Granny used to wash the sheets before they moved here.

Now, as they took a different turn from usual and drove to a different and tinier road, Daphne wondered what Asher’s home would smell like. Would it smell like he does or smell differently? Does he have pets? Cause that could mean something. She didn’t know. Asher barely spoke about himself. She discovered only yesterday’s video call that he has an older sister who now lives in the city because of school.

The road they were on was noticeably smaller and tighter—almost looked like it wouldn’t allow two cars to pass by at the same time. On her left was still an expanse of green land but the view was interrupted by the presence of trees. On her right were houses, one after the other, the second different from the first and so on. One, two and three-story buildings. Some balconies here, some staircases there and again, flower pots hanging outside the widows or the railings.

Daphne looked down on her phone and it estimated they’d reach their destination in a few minutes.

“Turn right. The second exit.” Just like her neighbourhood, the road had various exits here and there. The one leading to Asher’s was the second one on the right.

“Oh, my God. I’m so excited!” Cleo squealed from the backseat as she recognised they were getting closer to their destination. She’d already discarded her seatbelt and was now in the centre leaning on both the front seats to have a better look at where they were going.

When they turned right, they met another row of houses but they were more scattered along the way, not one after the other. They looked private so if they had various floors, the house fully belonged to one person or a single family. No next-door, upstairs or downstairs neighbour.

“Asher’s home is that one there.” Cleo’s hand poked out as the pointed at the building and Grandpa followed suit. Having already sent a message when they turned the road, Asher had left the gates open and was waiting outside. When he saw them, he waved and they waved back, giggling because they found him funny.

“Okay… Here we are.” The old man didn’t park inside the compound despite the open gates which implied he could. He simply stopped in the front, got down from the vehicle with the girls and helped them with their bags. In the meantime, James and Nick, who had already arrived, ran out of the house to welcome them.

“Sir, you don’t want to come inside?” Asher asked when he saw Grandpa close the backseat door and get into the driver's seat. “No, don’t worry, my son. I’ll come pick them up tomorrow. Thank you. Girls have a fun time. Be careful. Don’t go all crazy. Have fun responsibly. I repeat, nothing too crazy, okay?”

“Yeah, Grandpa. Don’t worry. We’re not like that.” Daphne had left her bag with Cleo to quickly hug her grandfather before he’d leave. The engine was turned on and, as he revised, Cleo and Asher waved at him too.

With James and Nick’s help, the gate was closed and they all went inside the white building in front of them. Asher’s compound wasn’t paved with any type of special stone tile. Cars were meant to be parked on the wide stone area on the right, in front of the garage door and the rest was all green grass. As they approached the open front door, they walked along a grey stone path which zig-zagged through the green. The path was confined by flower pots and gnomes here and there. On the end of the left was the real garden decorated by bushes of flowers and a table with four chairs under a shelter. The white building was roofed in reddish brown tiles from which a little window poked out.

Once they made it to the front door, they went down a few steps before reaching the pavemented floor outside where they were instructed to leave their shoes and switch to the slippers they brought. As Asher spoke, he checked to see if Nick and James had come out with their slippers but, fortunately, they changed into their shoes. His mother had just finished washing the floors before they came. She’d roast him alive if they ended up dirty again.

Just as she’d thought about it, Asher smelled like his house and, just as Taehyung had predicted, Jungkook’s kitchen smelled very tempting. It was getting closer to late afternoon and it hadn’t been long since he last ate but the scent was very appealing and caused gastric juices to start bubbling in his stomach for nothing.

He was already dressed. All plain with a two-colour combination: a brown knitted button-up he didn’t button up fully—what a surprise—and beige pants. The top was slightly tucked into his pants and everything was held in place by a bistre leather belt. His feet were in a pair of moccasins and set aside on the couch was his jacket, matching with the pants.

Jimin was ready too and so was Jungkook. The ones still running around were Adrielle and Avyanna. Mainly the blondie.

While Jimin went for a milk-coloured outfit giving him the looks of an Italian man, Jungkook went for… Jungkook: an all-black outfit, black pants and a see-through dress shirt with glitters scattered here and there to remind the guests of who was the real star of the night.

Avyanna was kind of ready, still roaming around the house in her slippers and with her hair tied up into curlers but she was fully dressed and her make-up was done. An off-shoulder white and black short dress was the outfit. Her legs, up from mid-thigh, were exposed but covered in the delicate material of her black tights. The left leg was a bit more visible at the top thanks to the split in the dress. From her ears hung a pair of round silver earrings matching the pendant of the jewel around her neck. He didn’t know which shoes she’d wear nor how she’d style her hair.

He still hadn’t got a good look at Adrielle since she appeared in the same instant she disappeared. He just saw that she curled the ends of her straight hair upwards and styled them with the help of a white hair band. He didn’t know what she would be wearing because whenever she sprung out of the guest room, she had a bathrobe on.

Jimin and Avyanna were going around with Jungkook to check a few last things for the party and, since it looked like they didn’t need any extra help, Taehyung lounged on the sofa to surf his Instagram feed.

He really hoped Lauri would be at the party because he felt like it would give him the chance to talk to her. No ten-minute break times at school and no friends in view since most of them aim at getting wasted, just the two of them and enough time to talk. As he thought about it for the umpteenth time that day and week, he remembered he’d get to see what she would wear and reminded himself to mentally prepare until then.

Moving to his Activity section, he stared at the notification from a week ago telling him Lauri had started following him. It just made him feel a ton of ways and he couldn’t even describe half of one of them. When he checked who viewed his stories, Lauri was in the midst and even then, he wanted to throw his feet around in the air and jump in happiness. It’s stupid he knows. It means nothing. A lot of people view his story and it doesn’t mean that each of them is confessing love to him but he ignored that rational reasoning to thrive in the funny feeling of collywobbles.

If something so simple was enough to drive him this nuts, though he was good at masking it at the moment, he probably would’ve gone into cardiac arrest if he’d seen the person working on her make-up in Asher’s older sister’s bedroom.

Daphne’s hair was held up in curlers as she finished her make-up. The go-to look for the day was smokey for the eye makeup, with very little contour, some blush on her nose and cheeks and, after applying lip liner, she put on some lipstick and finished the look with some gloss and highlights on the tip of her nose and the corner of her eyes.

The outfit was exactly the one she’d tried out in front of Cleo at the mall and, as advised by Cleo, the shoes would be a nice pair of pointy boots, the comfiest ones she had because oh-hell-nay would she spend the evening worrying about having painful feet.

Cleo was done showering and had decided the right fit for the party was the dress she tried at the store. A pair of tall high-heel boots sat in a corner waiting for her to wear them once she’d be done dressing up.

The next twenty minutes were spent blow-drying her hair with Daphne’s help. Then, finally, Daphne brought to life the hairstyle she’d envisioned at the moment: since the dress had a V-cut, she believed Daphne could leave her hair out and gather some to make two little braids in the back. Just a few little strands were left out in the front and the look was done. Their make-up looks looked similar but, while Daphne went for a dark look around her eyes, Cleo preferred to apply a lighter eyeshadow and a few glitters here and there.

Outside the room, going up and down from the kitchen to Asher’s room because their teeth can’t stay too long without munching on something were James and Nick. Finally, the third one came out of the room too. The trio was fully dressed. Their outfits were very similar to Taehyung and Jimin’s—mainly Asher’s and Nick’s. James’s was simple: a pair of jeans, a linen beige shirt and a new pair of sneakers. Asher’s hair was pushed back and held by a little gel while the other two simply opted for simple combing.

“Are y’all ready? We haven’t even set up where we’d sleep!” Nick screamed outside the girls’ door but before he could walk away Daphne opened it and came out. “Yeah, we are. She’s just putting things in order.”

“Anyway, I thought we’d be sleeping in the bedrooms,” Daphne looked at how her friends were dressed as she spoke. “Daph, I know I confessed true love to Asher at the picnic but i like taking one step after the other. Can’t just jump four steps and share the bed with him like that. In his bedroom!” James’s remark caused her to laugh as she approached him to smack his shoulder and compliment his fit.

“Hey, how dare you? You walked past me to compliment James’s outfit as if it isn’t the most lacklustre one here—”

“Okay, hey. Watch your mouth. Everybody expresses themselves in a different way, okay? You’re hurting my feelings,” he whined like a baby and, to get on Nick’s nerves a bit more, Daphne hugged James and consoled him, “You’re hurting him. He is at a very sensitive point in life. Take it easy with him,” she chuckled, ignoring Nick’s complaint and leaving him with a sprawled jaw in bewilderment. “Sorry, my fault. I won’t speak anymore so y’all can be happy.” James and Daphne chuckled at him. The girl didn’t know that, from the other side of the room, someone was looking at her flabbergasted.

“So we’ll be sleeping here? How so?” Cleo barged into the living room. Asher and Daphne shared glances when they noticed the silence that fell into the room and the eyes that fell upon Cleo as she walked in.

“These ones are double sofa beds. Pretty huge ones at that.”

“You ain’t fucking for real. Two sofa beds? Holy shit!—”

“Daph and I are sharing one!” Cleo exclaimed, rushing to grab the friend so they could set theirs up. They met no objections and soon the room was silent again as they all worked out how to set the beds.

“James, you’ll just have to take it easy. Life always comes with challenges.”

—Now playing: Beauty And A Beat by Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj ✫

“I vote we go by bike!”“Why—”“‘Why not’ you mean—”“No, I don’t. I swear y’all will get so fucked up you won’t be able to manoeuvre even your legs by the end of the night!”

They were all ready, all set, beds, shoes, outfits, make-up, hair, everything… except their means of transport. From what Daphne had understood the previous day, the sleepover was happening at Asher’s place, to begin with, because he was neighbours with Jungkook. As she remembered, back then, the adverb ‘basically’ was also used and that can mean lots of things but she didn’t want to think that without a car they couldn’t get to the party. That would be literally the worst-case scenario at that moment.

Asher had a few bicycles parked in his garden and once James and Nick had set eyes on them, they felt like they’d received a wise inspiration from above.

“Trust me, by the end of the night, no one would want to walk. In fact, we’d want to get home ASAP so a bike is a go-to since we don’t have a motorcycle or the license to drive one at all.” Cleo was against this, most likely talking out of experience. Knowing how crazy Nick and James could get with the simplest of things, Daphne could already imagine how they’d behave at a party but she liked to give them the benefit of the doubt.

“How are we supposed to ride the bicycles since we don’t have enough for each of us?” she asked seeing that the conversation was stalling and going nowhere. “Some ride in two and the rest in three—”

“Suicide mission, I see. Congratulations Nick, you always amaze me,” Cleo rolled her eyes, “Thank you very much. I’m very pleased you think that about me. I’ll try my best in the future to never disappoint you—”

“Oh, shut up—”

“It could be fun, no?” Cleo’s head turned around to look at Daphne and see if she really was the one who spoke. “Did you have something to drink? Did you give her something?” she referred the second question to Asher who looked at her as if asking why she’d ask him in the first place.

“It could be fun— I’ll ride with Asher!—”

“Oh, yeah? It could be fun and yet you go with Asher because you know how crazy these bitches can be.” The term she used to refer to Nick and James didn’t hurt them in the slightest, instead, they started posing around like girls, checking their nails and giggling stupidly. Cleo noticed, rolled her eyes and turned back to Daphne pointing at the boys since they were proving her right. I can’t ride a single bike with two XL-sized kids.”

“I think that’s body-shaming.”“It is.”

“Come on Cleo. I know the next moment you’ll be the same person laughing so let’s go. We don’t have all the time in the world.” Asher chuckled as he followed Daphne to the bike. Nick and James tried to hold their giggles and not scream in Cleo’s face that they won the argument but, by the time they were helping her sit in the front of the bike, between the rider and the handlebar, they started laughing. “Laugh any harder and I’ll send us straight into the bushes.”

Behind Nick, standing on the metal poking from the posterior tyre of the bicycle and leaning on Nick’s shoulders was James already screaming as they rode out of the compound. Asher and Daphne were right behind them and made sure to close the gate. Daphne was placed just like Cleo, between the Asher and the handlebar.

The clock’s hand was inching closer to the beginning of the evening, the sky was getting darker by the second and occasionally some street lamps would turn on sensing too much darkness.

Jungkook’s house was along the same road as Asher’s home, at least that was what Daphne believed at first before they turned left into another road, having her wonder how deep the neighbourhood went.

Leading the way for them was the crazy trio. Just as predicted by Daphne, Cleo was already having the time of her life, laughing whenever Nick tried to take a turn and feared he’d have them all on the ground. She was barely looking ahead of her. Too scared to, so she simply stuck to clinging onto Nick’s body and shutting her eyes as if she was on a rollercoaster ride. Above them, James was screaming like he was surfing the tallest ocean wave ever recorded in human history.

“Cleo, tickle Nick for me, please,” James spoke, standing straight, no single sign of fear in his body. “Do you have a death wish or something?” the other two replied in unison, chuckling at the stupidity.

“Just trynna get charged for the night,” he replied. “The first half is all chill shit so it would be worthless and anyway, tickling Nick wouldn’t charge you for the night. Maybe scar you for life but you do you…”

Daphne and Asher couldn’t hear this conversation. She wasn’t talking with Asher. There was silence, a space for her to observe her surroundings. The countryside presented itself before her eyes as if it were a museum, going from good to better to best within seconds. In contrast to the dark make-up, her eyes sparkled when she saw a building at the end of the road. It was huge and she could make that out by the light piercing through the numerous windows it had.

“Is that Jungkook’s house?” she questioned, almost sounding shy, like a child standing in front of a gigantic statue, the sublime. Asher’s chest vibrated against her as he hummed his reply.

Cleo had blabbed so much about how beautiful Jungkook’s house was but never could have Daphne come up with something like this in her imagination. Leaving in high-rise apartments couldn’t compare to the wealth the building oozed out like honey.

The big gates were wide open and two men were guarding them. Once they reached close enough, they came down from their bicycles and went in after giving their names and getting told where they could park their bikes.

It was Daphne’s first time here, surely not the same case for her friends but everyone was still mesmerised by the view before their eyes, pupils glowing as the light from the house reflected in them.

“Goddamn.” She huffed, “Gossip Girl indeed.”

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