#like i thought i finally found someone to follow

[fvsm4x]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome

+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - gojo is a fuckboy - angst angst angst:))

+ word count. 4.9k

a/n. Been a while since i‘ve updated this series…

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As your mother and father stormed out of your room, they slammed the door with a force that rattled the walls, leaving you alone with your brother in the suffocating silence that followed. The finality of that door slamming shut felt like an ominous punctuation—a statement that there was no turning back.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the echo of their footsteps retreating down the hall. A knot tightened in your throat as the weight of their words crashed over you, a tidal wave of shame and dread. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The last thing you wanted was for your brother to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, on the verge of falling apart.

Is that it? you wondered, panic clawing at your insides. Is this really it? Am I actually getting kicked out? The thought left you feeling hollow, like everything you had ever counted on had been stripped away in a single, merciless instant.

Your mind raced, leaping to thoughts of your future—or what little was left of it. Everything you’d worked for, everything you’d dreamed of, felt like it was slipping through your fingers, unraveling faster than you could piece it back together. You could see the edges of your life falling away. Your education, your home, the support you once took for granted. All of it was disappearing, leaving only the stark reality of an uncertain path ahead.

You clenched your hands, digging your nails into your palms to anchor yourself, trying to stave off the wave of despair building inside you. It felt like your world was caving in, each piece of your carefully planned life crumbling in a way that seemed beyond repair.

Your brother shifted beside you, breaking the silence as he cleared his throat, his face etched with worry. He reached out a tentative hand, hovering as if unsure whether to comfort you or respect the fragile space you’d created between yourself and your emotions.

Your brother’s hand finally found your shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. His silence spoke louder than words, and for a moment, it was all you could rely on. Even though he didn’t know what to say, his presence gave you something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos unraveling inside you.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just… angry. They’ll come around. Maybe if we just talk to them tomorrow, things will calm down.”

You shook your head, the harsh reality already settling into place. “No, Suguru.. you heard them. They were serious. They want me gone.”

He looked down, his brows knitted together in frustration. “But where will you go? You can’t just… be out there by yourself.” The helplessness in his voice mirrored your own fear, but even he didn’t have a solution.

You glanced around your room—the bed you’d grown up in, the books you’d loved and underlined, the photos on the wall capturing fragments of happier moments, times when things were simpler, manageable. Each item felt like a piece of the life you were about to lose, like a museum of memories that would soon be locked away from you forever.

The silence between you and your brother grew heavy, and as much as you wanted to break it, words failed you. What could you say? That you’d made a mistake? That you hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? (You hadn‘t) But they all sounded hollow, too small to carry the weight of what you were facing.

Finally, your brother spoke, his voice determined. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure something out. You can live at my apartment—until you have a plan, at least. I don‘t really use it, so don‘t worry. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”

His words offered a sliver of hope, but even as you nodded, uncertainty lingered. You knew your brother meant well, but deep down, you both understood how complicated it would be for him to go against your parents’ wishes. They’d raised him with the same expectations, the same rules—and while his heart was with you, his loyalty was torn.

But still, the idea of having somewhere to go, even if only temporarily, softened the blow just enough for you to breathe.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but your gratitude was genuine. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The hug was the only comfort you had at that moment, the only thing anchoring you against the overwhelming feeling of loss and uncertainty.

After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, his face determined. “Go pack a few things. Whatever you need tonight. We’ll get out of here quietly. I’ll take care of the rest.”

-

Gojo leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the metal legs against the floor barely audible over the low murmur of his classmates. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his notebook, the rhythmic click-click of it matching the unease simmering in his chest. His gaze drifted out the classroom window, where the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been weeks since he’d last seen you, and that last encounter in the classroom felt like it had happened yesterday, every moment still vividly etched in his mind.

He recalled the way the quiet hum of the school’s empty corridors amplified every sound—the soft, breathy gasps you made, the rush of your breathing as he pressed you against the cool surface of the wall. It was intoxicating, each detail replaying in his head like a film on repeat. But oddly enough, it pained him that he hadn’t seen you since then.

At first, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that you were just playing hard-to-get or perhaps needed some space after everything that had happened. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to need time to collect themselves after an encounter with him— he had that effect on people. But as the days turned into weeks, that initial dismissal turned into a dull, nagging worry that gnawed at him.

Gojo tried to push the thoughts aside, telling himself that you’d show up eventually, that it was just a phase. But your absence had created an odd emptiness in his daily routine, a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He was used to you being there, your presence a strange but comforting constant, and now that comfort was replaced with a gnawing curiosity.

Then there was Suguru, your brother, whose steady presence at school made everything feel even stranger. He carried on with his day as though nothing had changed, greeting Gojo with his usual casual indifference, yet he never mentioned you. Gojo found himself watching Suguru more closely than he intended, searching for any hint or sign that might explain your absence. He could feel the itch of curiosity clawing at him, but part of him resisted asking outright. He didn’t want to seem like he cared too much, but every time he spotted Suguru without you, that curiosity intensified.

Had something happened to you? Did you get sick? Or had you simply decided to avoid him? The thought was uncomfortably unsettling, and he brushed it aside, frustrated with himself for even considering it.

It was frustrating. Gojo couldn’t quite understand why you were occupying so much of his mind. At first, he tried to blame it on Suguru—your brother was a constant reminder of you, after all—but he’d grown accustomed to that long ago. It wasn’t like him to fixate on anyone, especially someone who usually melted into the background. And yet, here he was, replaying that last encounter in his mind, scanning hallways, and lingering just a bit longer outside your classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He could chalk it up to boredom, a simple distraction to stave off the monotony of his day-to-day life. But deep down, he knew that there was something more than that. The thrill of teasing you, the way your face would scrunch up in irritation when he pushed you down in the hallways—it was strangely addictive. You had become his little victim, a source of amusement that made the slow days feel bearable. Now that you were gone, it left a void he couldn’t fill.

He hated admitting it, but he missed picking on you. The thought made his jaw clench, and a twisted grin crept across his face. Maybe he’d overestimated his hold over you, convinced that you would always be there for him to mess with. Or perhaps this was some kind of game you were playing, deliberately making him feel your absence, and it annoyed him even more.

Days continued to pass without a sign of you, and then, one morning, Suguru didn’t show up to school. Gojo was caught off guard by the emptiness in the usual spots where he’d see his friend. Normally, Suguru was as dependable as clockwork, always showing up right on time, effortlessly composed and ready to move through the day. Gojo couldn’t help but feel a strange twist in his stomach, wondering if something had happened. Maybe Suguru’s absence was tied to yours?

When Suguru finally returned the next day, he looked…off. His usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes a bit rumpled. There was an exhausted heaviness in his steps, and dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept all night. Gojo’s eyes followed him as he trudged through the school halls, quieter than usual, avoiding small talk and slipping into his seat without so much as a glance at anyone.

It was unlike Suguru to be this way. He barely looked up during the lunch break, barely mumbled a response when someone tried to talk to him. And Gojo could feel the unspoken weight hanging over him like a shadow—an air of tension, of something strained and unresolved. It made Gojo’s curiosity burn even stronger, a gnawing need to know what had happened.

But when Gojo finally approached him, Suguru only glanced up, his gaze tired and distant, and muttered a soft, “Not today, Satoru.” There was a finality in his tone, a closed-off energy that Gojo hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Suguru was carrying something heavy, something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share.

And somehow, that only made his thoughts drift back to you. The emptiness left by your absence grew sharper, more pointed, and with it came a sinking feeling that whatever was happening with Suguru…was connected to you.

Gojo scoffed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to push thoughts of you aside. Why was he even letting you get to him? It wasn’t like him to dwell on anyone, let alone someone who’d gone MIA after a single hookup. He had more important things to think about—better distractions to keep himself entertained. Besides, if you were going to play hard-to-get or whatever this was, then that was on you.

With a lazy smirk, he glanced around the classroom, letting his gaze settle on a few familiar faces. Plenty of girls would kill for his attention— he didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about you. He’d spent weeks hoping for some sign of you, but maybe it was time he reminded himself of how easy it was to move on.

After class, he slipped out of the room, his stride slow and confident as he scanned the hallways. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for—an upperclassman lingering by her locker, eyeing him with a coy smile. He’d seen her around before, noticed the way her gaze lingered whenever he passed by.

Perfect.

With a quick sweep of his hair, he put on that easy charm, the one that always drew people in, and walked over, leaning casually against the lockers beside her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Long day?”

The girl blinked, caught off guard for a second before her lips curled into a smile. “Not anymore,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Gojo grinned, already shifting into the familiar rhythm of flirting that he knew so well. Within moments, they were leaning close, sharing secretive whispers and low laughs, her hand resting on his arm as she hung onto every word he said. He had a way of making them feel special, as if they were the only person in the world. He knew exactly what to say, how to let his gaze linger just long enough to make them squirm.

As he let the conversation drift into something more suggestive, he found himself glancing around, almost instinctively, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of you walking by. He mentally cursed himself for it, forcing himself to focus on the girl in front of him, but there was still that nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Even though he had her wrapped around his finger, it didn’t feel quite the same. She was willing, easy, and there was no thrill, no challenge. It felt…hollow.

For a moment, he wondered if this was just another way to forget you, a way to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away as easily as he’d hoped. The idea bothered him, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. You didn’t matter—he was Gojo Satoru. He had girls practically throwing themselves at him every day. There was no reason he should be hung up on you.

-

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Days slipped by in a gray monotony as you tried to settle into a space that felt as foreign as a stranger’s closet. There was nothing in the room that felt like you, just the sparse furniture your brother had left behind: a sagging couch with sunken cushions, a bed pushed awkwardly against the wall, and a handful of mismatched kitchen items. There were no family photos, no cozy blankets, not even a single potted plant to add life to the place. It was a hollow shell, his empty, seldom-used apartment, and now it was yours—a place to hide, but far from a home.

When you first came here, you thought you might be able to reach out, maybe even find comfort in a friend’s familiar voice. But the silence on the other end of the line grew heavier with each unanswered message. Some of your texts were left unread, others were marked “seen” and ignored. You’d started to convince yourself that somehow, they knew. They had to know about your mistake, your situation, and it was easier for them to turn away than to get involved. You could almost imagine their silent judgment, the whispers they might share when you weren’t around.

You felt backed into a corner, as if the world had abandoned you just when you needed it most. The shame felt insurmountable, an invisible wall that stopped you from trying again, that convinced you this loneliness was what you deserved.

You could barely feel it —the life inside you, growing silently, quietly, but undeniably there. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself resting a hand on your stomach without even realizing, feeling for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but knowing soon it would be. A thousand questions swirled in your mind. What kind of life would this child have? Would they hate you for the world you brought them into, for the choices you’d made that they would have to live with? The thought was like a chill running through your veins, paralyzing and real in a way nothing else was.

Then, late at night, as the hours stretched out, other thoughts would creep in—thoughts you tried to push away, but that stubbornly returned. Abortion. You felt the word like a weight in your chest, a tightness that you couldn’t swallow, but that was always there. In the dead silence of the apartment, you sometimes let yourself entertain the thought, if only for a moment, thinking how much easier it might be to turn away from this path. But then the guilt would wash over you, sinking deeper with every beat of your heart. It was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to make, no matter how overwhelming everything felt.

You weren’t even sure you could hold your own life together, let alone bring another one into it. You hated feeling so trapped, as though every choice led to pain, no matter what you did. The idea of being a mother, of taking on this monumental responsibility, filled you with a dread that was hard to admit. It was as if each new day only added to a burden you were too afraid to carry yet too scared to set down. The future felt murky and shadowed, a looming unknown that swallowed up every glimmer of hope.

Sometimes, you’d find yourself standing by the window, gazing down at the quiet, dimly lit street below, lost in thoughts of an alternate life. What would it feel like to walk away from all this weight, to leave the fear and uncertainty behind? You let yourself imagine it—a life where you were free again, unburdened. But even as the fantasy flickered in your mind, there was a small, stubborn part of you that held on, that whispered maybe. Maybe you could carry this through. Maybe, despite everything, you could find a way to make this work.

To keep yourself grounded, you tried to build a routine. Every morning, you’d scroll through endless job listings, though each one felt like a reminder of the uncertainty surrounding you. Most positions didn’t seem right or possible for you now, but you kept looking. It was something to hold onto, some kind of structure when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You even organized the sparse kitchen, setting up the cabinets with a kind of precise care, as if putting things in order on the outside could bring some calm to the chaos inside.

One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the couch, the hum of distant traffic barely filled the silence. You stared at your phone screen, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. Loneliness settled over you, thick and heavy, amplified by the silence that had become so familiar. It was almost stifling, forcing you to confront thoughts you’d tried hard to avoid.

You missed your family, even if things between you had become strained. You missed the comforting predictability of home, the familiar sounds, the routine. Here, each day felt hollow and directionless, like floating in a fog with no sense of where you were headed. Sometimes, you’d sit there waiting, hoping for something to change, some sign that things would be okay, but the realization that it was entirely up to you weighed heavily.

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Your heart gave a nervous jump as you hesitated, then forced yourself to cross the room. The apartment was usually so quiet, every sound amplified in the emptiness, and this interruption felt almost intrusive. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you opened the door to see the mailman standing there, holding a small, official-looking envelope in his hand.

“Here you go. Have a nice day,” he said with a nod, handing it over before turning to leave.

You mumbled a thank-you, barely audible, closing the door slowly as you stared down at the envelope. The stiff paper, the way your name was printed in impersonal black ink—it all radiated a sense of cold formality that sent a wave of dread curling in your stomach. You tore it open with shaking hands, telling yourself it was probably just another notice, a formality from the school.

But as your eyes scanned the letter, a sickening realization washed over you. It wasn’t just a reminder or a request for information. It was a notification—a final, official statement that you’d been dropped from school because of unpaid tuition. Your parents had stopped covering your fees without any warning, leaving the balance unpaid. And because you hadn’t attended in weeks, the school had processed it as a withdrawal.

You read the words again, trying to make sense of them, as if they would change on a second pass. But they stayed the same, cold and unyielding, spelling out a reality you hadn’t prepared for. The letter offered no alternatives, no appeal. Either you somehow paid the balance yourself, or you would be permanently removed from the roster.

A numb disbelief settled over you as you sank onto the couch, clutching the letter tightly. They’d actually done it. They’d cut you off without a word, leaving you adrift, stripped of the one place you’d thought you could depend on. A mix of anger and hurt bubbled up inside you, but the betrayal was what stung the most.

Your mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic spiral. What would you do now? Leaving school meant giving up on so many things—dreams you’d quietly held onto, plans that seemed so certain not long ago. It was like everything you’d worked toward, every late night studying and early morning hustle, had been erased in an instant. This wasn’t just a setback— it felt like a wall you’d crashed into with no way around.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to press your lips into a hard line. There was no one you could turn to for help, no one who could wave a magic wand and fix this.

You sat there on the couch, feeling the weight of the letter in your hand like a stone, its meaning sinking in deeper and deeper. The room seemed even colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. Every step you’d taken had been building toward something, and now that path was gone, wiped away in the span of a single letter.

No matter what mistakes you’d made, you’d never expected your own family to cut you off 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. You wanted to scream, to call them, to make them hear you and see what they’d done—but that door felt closed too, like an argument already lost. The bitter realization settled in— of course they weren’t going to reach out- they weren’t going to help. Afterall, they were the ones that kicked you out in the first place.

You glanced down at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated sending another message to one of your friends. Maybe you could explain everything, maybe they’d understand, maybe they’d reach back and give you a lifeline. But a familiar fear held you back. The weight of your situation, your mistake, felt too heavy to burden anyone else with, and every time you imagined reaching out, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that they hadn’t been there for you before. Why would they be there now?

The silence in the apartment grew louder, pressing in on you until it was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, you got up and wandered aimlessly through the small space, moving things around on the counter, straightening the already-neat cupboards, just doing anything to keep your hands busy. But the distraction was short-lived, and the reality of your situation crept back in.

The future felt terrifyingly empty, an open void where all your plans used to be. The only clear thing was that you had no other choice now but to figure this out on your own. Slowly, a stubborn resolve began to build beneath the panic. You were here, alone, but that didn’t mean you had to stay stuck. Maybe, somehow, you could make this work. You could find a job, save up, find a way to get back into school. It felt like an impossible task, but it was the only path left.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your laptop and opened up a job-search site, scrolling through the endless list of options. Most were dead ends—part-time retail or night shifts that didn’t even pay enough to cover the rent suguru is payinh. But you forced yourself to keep looking, moving through page after page, searching for anything that might be a start, a way forward.

The hours slipped by, the weight of the decision settling over you like a cold blanket, but you kept scrolling, kept hoping that something would spark the possibility of change.

After what felt like hours scrolling through listings and filling out applications, your eyes grew tired, the screen blurring in front of you. You needed air, space to breathe, to feel something other than the weight pressing down on your chest. With a sigh, you closed your laptop, abandoning it on the couch, and made your way over to the small balcony just off the living room.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp night air, a chill that wrapped around you, cutting through the dullness. The street below was quiet, dim streetlights casting long shadows across the empty pavement. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold settle into your skin, grounding you, if only for a moment. The city felt vast from here, stretching out endlessly, full of people going about their lives, yet here you were, feeling like the only one left adrift.

As you opened your eyes, you gazed out over the neighborhood, the distant hum of cars a low, steady comfort. For a fleeting moment, you felt a strange sense of freedom, as if up here on this balcony, the problems inside couldn’t quite reach you. It was quiet, peaceful even, the world below carrying on, oblivious to your struggles.

You’d imagined such a different future, one where you’d be surrounded by friends, pursuing your passions, finding yourself. But now? It all felt like a distant memory, something that had happened to someone else entirely.

The sky above was cloudy, with only a few stars managing to peek through. You stared up, trying to find some kind of sign, something to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone, that maybe there was still a chance for things to change.

You stayed there a while, letting the cold numb the tension in your body, staring into the distance, thinking about what you’d do next. The thought of reaching out for help gnawed at you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to take that step. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just the fear of rejection. Either way, you knew that whatever came next would be up to you.

Your gaze drifted downward, tracing the shapes of the buildings, the shadows cast by streetlights, when a familiar flash of white caught your eye. Your heart clenched involuntarily. Gojo.

He was strolling down the sidewalk, his stride as arrogant and carefree as ever, his laughter echoing faintly up toward you. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who leaned into him, her face turned up toward him with a bright smile, entirely captivated. They looked close, intimate, like they were the only two people in the world. Watching them, a dull ache pulsed in your chest, stirring a cocktail of emotions you didn’t want to face.

You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles whitening. Memories clawed their way up, memories of him—of his smirk, his mocking words, the way he’d cornered you like he had every right. Gojo had always been cruel, but he wielded his charm like a weapon, drawing people in only to watch them squirm when he showed his true colors. He had treated you the same way, toying with you, using you, and then discarding you without a second thought.

The girl beside him had no idea, you thought bitterly. She was seeing the Gojo who played his part so well, the smooth talker, the charmer, the boy who seemed like he could do no wrong. But you knew better. You knew what lay beneath that mask, the callousness he could hide behind his easy smiles. And now, there he was, laughing without a care, completely untouched by everything he’d done to you, while you were left to piece yourself back together.

A cold, bitter anger welled up inside you, mingling with the helplessness you tried so hard to ignore. He had stolen something from you—something you could never get back. He is the reason you got kicked out and have a hard life now.

And yet here he was, walking down the street as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t exist, a careless reminder of how easily he’d been able to walk away from the pain he’d caused.

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[420b1a2eit]

The Fall - Part 1

Jieun x Jongsuk x ???

11605 words

tags: porn, handjob, blowjob, unsatisactory sex, power bottom, threesome, double penetration

Jieun dragged herself through the front door, dropping her bags on the floor. The tour had been grueling—shows in different cities every night, endless crowds cheering her on, but it felt empty. Despite the flashing lights and adoring fans, she missed something grounded, something familiar, like home. Like Jongsuk.

They had been texting all through the tour, long strings of “I miss you” and “I can’t wait to see you again,” but now that she was standing in the hallway of their shared apartment, a strange emptiness curled in her chest. It wasn’t like her to feel this way, not when she’d been away so long, not when she should have been desperate to wrap her arms around him.

Jongsuk appeared in the doorway, his grin wide, welcoming, too eager. He embraced her, the scent of him familiar and warm, but as their lips met, Jieun felt... nothing. Just lips pressing together, like rehearsed movements without the emotion behind them.

They didn’t waste time that evening. After dinner, after talking about her tour and the things she’d seen, they were already heading to bed. Jongsuk undressed her slowly, hands running down her back, tugging at the thin fabric of her shirt. He whispered how much he had missed her, how he had thought of her every night.

She should have been swept up in the moment, but as he touched her, kissed her skin, she felt detached, like she was watching from a distance, observing a scene from someone else’s life. His hands roamed over her body, and her breath quickened, but not in anticipation. More in uncertainty.

When he finally pushed into her, there was no spark. No sudden rush of pleasure or excitement. It felt like he was moving inside her, going through the motions, but her body wasn't responding. His breath hitched, deepening as he thrust into her with more intensity. Jieun clenched her eyes shut, trying to focus, to feel something. This is what you wanted, right?

But there was nothing. No rush of euphoria, no connection. His grunts grew louder, and he was lost in his own rhythm, oblivious to the storm of dissatisfaction swirling inside her. She tried to find pleasure in his movements, grinding her hips in sync with his, but it felt mechanical, rehearsed, lacking fire. A dull ache built in her chest. What’s wrong with me? she wondered, biting her lip, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

When he finished, collapsing beside her, breathless and spent, Jieun lay still, her body tense. She felt empty in more ways than one. Her mind raced, trying to process the numbness. Jongsuk kissed her cheek, whispered that he loved her, and she forced a smile, though her heart wasn’t in it.

The next few nights followed the same rhythm—he’d reach for her, and she’d respond, trying to coax some kind of desire, some spark of arousal. But each time, it was the same. His hands felt heavy, his movements predictable. Sex had turned into a routine, like brushing her teeth or making the bed, just another thing to check off the list.

Days passed, and her frustration mounted. Was it him? Was he not enough anymore? Or was it her? Had she become too jaded, too caught up in her own head to enjoy something so simple? She found herself scrolling mindlessly through the internet one night, looking for answers, trying to distract herself from the growing pit in her stomach.

That’s when she stumbled upon a video. It wasn’t something she’d normally click on, but something about the thumbnail caught her eye—a woman, wild-eyed, moaning between two men. Curiosity pulled her in, and before she realized what was happening, she was watching the screen intently. The woman was lost in the heat of the moment, sandwiched between two black men who looked like they were in complete control, their hands rough, their bodies overwhelming. They dominated her, both taking her at the same time, filling her from every angle.

Jieun’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing as she watched the scene unfold. The woman looked so... free. So completely consumed by pleasure. The intensity of it sent a thrill down Jieun’s spine. For the first time in weeks, she felt something stir inside her, a hunger she hadn’t known was there. It wasn’t just the act itself, it was the power dynamics, the thrill of submission, the raw intensity of being utterly devoured by not one, but two men.

Was this what she was missing?

She couldn’t get the image out of her head, the way the woman writhed and moaned, completely at their mercy, and the way she begged for more, so desperate to be filled by them both. It was intoxicating. Jieun tried to push the thought away, but it clung to her mind, growing louder, more persistent.

She didn’t want to cheat. That wasn’t the answer. But what if...?

A week passed since Jieun had returned home, a dull haze lingering between her and Jongsuk. The nights they spent together had been filled with routine passion—his hands roamed her body, his lips found all the familiar places, but something was off. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how deep his thrusts or how desperate his words of desire, Jieun couldn't find the satisfaction she craved.

It wasn’t him—she told herself that over and over. Jongsuk loved her, he was attentive, always trying to make her feel good. But each time they finished, as he lay beside her, sweaty and sated, she felt nothing but an aching emptiness in her chest. Her thoughts would wander, her mind flicking through vague fantasies, and recently, one had been burning brighter than the others. That porn video.

She had tried to brush it off at first, telling herself it was just the idea of something new, something different. But it wasn’t just the novelty. There was something about the power, the submission, the way the woman was overwhelmed by two men at once.

And now, the thought clung to her like a drug, seeping into her dreams, making her wet in the middle of the night when Jongsuk was fast asleep beside her.

Jieun hesitated for days, unsure how to bring it up to Jongsuk. She wondered if he would think she was crazy, or worse, be disgusted. But the idea had already taken root, blossoming into a full-blown fantasy that she couldn’t ignore. One night, as they were lying in bed after yet another unsatisfying round of sex, she finally gathered the courage. She rolled over, her hand sliding down Jongsuk’s chest, fingers tracing the faint line of hair leading lower.

"Baby..." Her voice was a whisper, sultry, laced with intent. Her fingers wrapped around his softening cock, stroking it lazily. "What if... we tried something different?"

His eyes flickered open, looking at her with curiosity but also a hint of confusion. "Different?" he murmured, his voice thick with post-coital drowsiness. "What do you mean?"

She smiled, a slow, seductive curve of her lips, her fingers tightening slightly around his length, coaxing it back to life. "You know... I’ve been thinking. About how we could... spice things up."

Jongsuk let out a low groan as her hand began to move more purposefully, stroking him harder, faster, feeling him twitch under her touch. "Like what?" he asked, his voice now more awake, intrigued.

Jieun leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear. "What if... there was another man with us?" Her words were deliberate, soft but heavy with meaning. She could feel him stiffen—not just his cock, but his entire body, tensing under her suggestion.

"Another... man?" he echoed, clearly surprised.

"Mm-hmm." Her fingers moved with more urgency now, her hand pumping his cock steadily, feeling him harden fully in her grip. "Just imagine it, baby. Me... between the two of you. Another man taking me, while you watch. Or maybe you both fuck me at the same time..."

She felt him inhale sharply, the tension in his body increasing as her words sank in. His cock throbbed in her hand, and she knew she was getting to him.

"Love... I…" His voice was hesitant, a mixture of disbelief and arousal, his thoughts clearly torn between the idea and the unfamiliar territory she was leading him into.

She didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The idea had consumed her for days, and now she was planting it deep in his mind, making him see it, making him feel it. She shifted lower, her lips grazing his collarbone, then trailing down his chest, her breath hot against his skin.

"Can you picture it, baby?" she purred, her mouth now hovering over his cock. "Me... on my knees... two cocks in my mouth... or maybe one fucking me from behind, the other filling my mouth." She looked up at him, locking eyes as she parted her lips, taking him into her mouth slowly, deliberately.

Jongsuk’s breath hitched, his hips bucking up slightly as she enveloped him, her mouth wet, hot, and eager. His hand instinctively reached for her hair, fingers tangling in the strands as she sucked him deeper, letting him feel the weight of her desire.

She pulled back just enough to speak, her voice muffled by his cock still grazing her lips. "You’d love it, wouldn’t you? Watching me take it from both of you... seeing me so full, so used."

Her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock, teasing, as her hand continued stroking the base. "You’d fuck me harder than ever, just to show him that I’m yours. You’d get so turned on, knowing another man is inside me... knowing that I’m being shared."

Jongsuk groaned, his grip tightening in her hair, his body responding to every filthy word spilling from her lips. She bobbed her head, sucking him with more intensity now, her hand working in time with her mouth.

"Tell me, baby," she whispered as she pulled away for a breath, her hand still pumping him steadily. "Tell me you want to see it. Tell me you want to watch me... being fucked by another man while you fuck me too."

His eyes were dark now, filled with lust, confusion, and the undeniable arousal that her words had ignited. He moaned, head thrown back against the pillow, his body surrendering to the fantasy she was weaving, unable to resist the dirty images flooding his mind.

Jieun grinned, knowing she had him on the edge. She lowered her mouth to his cock again, this time taking him deeper, faster, her throat tightening around him as she pushed him closer to the edge.

"Think about it," she murmured between strokes, her hand slick with saliva and pre-cum. "Me... with both of you... your cock in my mouth, another inside me... filling me, stretching me. You’d love it, wouldn’t you?"

Jongsuk gasped, his hips jerking up, his cock twitching in her mouth. She could feel how close he was, how much he wanted to explode at the thought.

Jongsuk's body trembled as he spilled into Jieun's mouth, his cock pulsing with the intensity of his release. She didn't slow down, not even when he filled her throat, swallowing every last drop like the filthy dream she had painted for him. His grip loosened on her hair, the afterglow hitting him in waves, his breath heavy, chest rising and falling as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Her words still echoed in his mind—his girlfriend, his sweet Jieun, begging for another man to join them. It was outrageous, insane even. But the way she had worked him, the way she had crafted that fantasy, he couldn't deny the pull.

She lifted her head, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "So... what do you think?" she asked, voice low and teasing, as though she hadn't just reduced him to a quivering mess with her mouth alone.

Jongsuk blinked, still caught between disbelief and the primal urge she had stirred within him. His cock twitched in her hand, though he was spent, and the truth slipped out before he had a chance to overthink it. "Okay," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "We can try it."

Jieun's smile widened, her hand giving him one last lazy stroke as she crawled up beside him. "You won’t regret it," she whispered into his ear, lips brushing his jaw. But she could see the hesitation lingering in his eyes, the subtle fear that maybe this would change everything, that maybe he wasn’t enough for her anymore.

To reassure him, Jieun slid a hand up his chest, her touch gentle now, comforting. "You get to decide," she whispered, her voice softer, less demanding now. "Whoever it is, you choose. I’m yours, Jongsuk. I don’t want anyone but who you trust. This isn’t about someone else. This is about us. I just... want something new with you."

That was all it took. His unease faded slightly at her words, realizing she hadn’t been planning on running off with some random guy, that this was something they could do together. That she wanted him in it completely. It made the idea less threatening and more... intriguing. The control rested in his hands now.

Days passed as Jongsuk mulled over her offer, each time feeling a strange mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The fantasy Jieun had painted played over and over in his mind. He finally decided on someone—Minho, a longtime friend, someone he trusted. They hadn’t been best friends, but Minho had always been respectful, someone Jongsuk could rely on, and most importantly, someone who could keep a secret.

When Jongsuk brought up the idea, Minho had hesitated at first, unsure if Jongsuk was joking, but when the seriousness became clear, his interest piqued. They talked about it, laying everything out in the open—boundaries, expectations.

To ease the awkwardness, they invited Minho out for dinner with Jieun. What started as a casual dinner soon turned into something that felt... surprisingly natural. Minho had always been good at making people feel comfortable, and before long, the evening felt more like a strange but thrilling trio date. Jieun laughed at his jokes, Jongsuk found himself loosening up, and by the end of the night, they were all smiling, slightly buzzed from the drinks and the weight of what they had agreed to do hanging in the air between them.

The night finally arrived.

Jieun had rented a suite at a luxurious hotel, wanting to create the perfect setting for what would be their first time together in such a way. She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, adjusting the white lingerie she had picked out, something delicate and daring, something that made her look innocent and filthy at the same time.

The lacey pattern around the cups was semi-transparent, giving just enough of a peek at her breasts beneath, nipples hard from anticipation and the slight chill in the room. The thong barely covered anything at all, only a sliver of fabric shielding her pussy, with a tiny white ribbon at the top of her mound, making her look like a present waiting to be unwrapped. Her long, wavy dark brown hair cascaded down her back, reaching the bottom of her spine, adding to the soft allure of her appearance.

When Jongsuk and Minho entered the room, she turned to face them, biting her lower lip, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jongsuk’s eyes widened immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he took her in. The white lace clung to her body in all the right places, accentuating her slender frame, her perky breasts pressing against the thin fabric. His mouth went dry as he stared, his mind struggling to process how fucking perfect she looked, innocent and sinful all at once.

Minho’s reaction was just as visceral. His eyes raked over her body, lingering on the way the lace barely concealed her breasts, how her nipples pressed against the fabric, visible but teasing. His gaze dropped lower, tracing the delicate curve of her hips and the thong that disappeared between her thighs. He let out a soft, appreciative breath, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Wow,” Minho said, voice low, full of awe and hunger. “You look… incredible.”

Jieun smiled coyly, shifting her weight slightly, her body language deliberately sensual, her every movement calculated to draw their eyes to different parts of her. “You like it?” she asked, voice sweet but laced with seduction.

Jongsuk stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her body, his hand reaching out to brush against the delicate lace covering her breasts. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly. “You’re… perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Minho, still watching from a few steps away, nodded slowly, his eyes dark with lust. "Definitely more than I imagined," he added, voice rough with want. His gaze flicked between Jieun and Jongsuk, as if confirming this was real, that they were all really here, about to cross that line.

Jieun’s heart raced as she watched their reactions, feeling the heat rising between the three of them, the tension so thick it was nearly palpable. She could feel the slick wetness pooling between her thighs, the thought of what was about to happen sending jolts of excitement through her.

Slowly, she turned, giving them both a view of her back, her ass framed perfectly by the thong, the lace hugging the soft curve of her hips. She glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jongsuk, then Minho, her lips curling into a playful, knowing smile.

“Well,” she said softly, her voice teasing. “Are you two just going to stand there... or are we going to start?”

The air in the suite was thick with tension, a palpable heat that seemed to settle in Jieun's chest, swirling through her veins and flooding her senses. She stood between Jongsuk and Minho, feeling their hungry eyes on her body, the white lingerie clinging to her in a way that made her feel both exposed and powerful. They were eager, she could feel it—their desire practically radiated off them in waves, and for a brief moment, Jieun relished the way she commanded their attention, how she was the center of this shared fantasy.

Jongsuk’s eyes were dark, locked onto hers, and Minho was no different, his lips slightly parted, gaze lingering on her breasts barely covered by the delicate lace. The two men had been so focused on her that it hadn’t even occurred to them that they were still fully dressed.

Jieun chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing as she tilted her head, looking between them. “Mm, you boys are still wearing too much,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction. She gave them both a playful smile, her fingers brushing over her own body for emphasis. “I don’t want either of you wearing anything tonight.” The idea of them stripping down, baring themselves for her, made her pulse quicken.

Jongsuk smirked, glancing at Minho before they both started to undress, peeling off their clothes piece by piece. Jieun watched with anticipation, biting her lower lip as they revealed themselves to her. It was strange, watching Minho undress, someone who wasn’t her boyfriend, but the excitement bubbling inside her was undeniable.

Once they were fully naked, Jieun’s eyes flicked between them, drinking in the sight of their bodies, her breath hitching slightly at how hard both of them already were. Two cocks, stiff and eager, ready for her. The sight sent a thrill down her spine, a mix of curiosity and satisfaction blooming in her chest. Was this what she needed? Was this the key to quenching that gnawing hunger inside her?

She didn’t have much time to linger on the thought as she reached out, taking both men by the forearms, guiding them closer to her. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of command, pulling them in. When they were close enough, she took each of their hands and guided them to her body, encouraging them to touch her, feel her.

Their hands roamed over her curves, tentative at first but quickly becoming bolder as they explored the softness of her skin, the shape of her waist, the swell of her breasts beneath the lace. Jieun closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself get lost in their touch, feeling how their fingers gripped her, the mix of Jongsuk’s familiar touch and Minho’s new, electrifying presence setting her nerves on fire.

She opened her eyes, turning her gaze up to Jongsuk first, her lips curving into a smile before she leaned in and kissed him, their mouths meeting in a deep, needy kiss. His tongue slid against hers, a familiar heat, but the sensation of another man’s hands on her body while she kissed her boyfriend sent a fresh wave of excitement through her. Jongsuk’s hands squeezed her waist possessively, pulling her closer as they made out, but Jieun pulled away just enough to turn her head, catching Minho’s lips next.

Making out with Minho was a different kind of thrill—his kiss was rougher, more urgent, and his hands on her body felt almost foreign, in the best way. She moaned softly into his mouth, one of her hands slipping up into his hair, pulling him closer as Jongsuk’s hands continued to roam her body, sliding over her ass, gripping her thighs.

Both men were touching her now, groping her, hands moving over her breasts, her hips, her ass, exploring every inch they could reach. It was overwhelming in the most delicious way, their eager hands sending jolts of pleasure through her as they caressed and squeezed her, fingers brushing the lace of her thong, teasing the sensitive skin beneath.

Jieun pulled back, a playful smirk curling on her lips as she glanced down at their bodies, both of their cocks hard and throbbing, inches from her. “Looks like you’re both pretty worked up already,” she said, her voice low, teasing as she looked between them.

She reached down, her small hands wrapping around each of their cocks, feeling them twitch under her touch, hot and heavy in her palms. “Mm, I wonder which one of you is going to last the longest…” she mused, her voice a playful purr as she began to stroke them both, her hands moving slowly, deliberately, enjoying the way their bodies reacted to her touch.

Jongsuk groaned softly, his hips bucking slightly into her hand, while Minho let out a low growl, his grip on her waist tightening as he stared down at her, lust darkening his gaze. The weight of their cocks in her hands, the power she had over both of them in this moment, sent a thrill straight to her core, wetness already pooling between her legs, soaking the thin lace of her thong.

As she continued to jerk them off, she leaned in to kiss Jongsuk again, her tongue sliding against his, while her hand stroked his cock, slow and steady. After a moment, she pulled away from him, turning to Minho, kissing him with the same intensity, her other hand working his cock just as skillfully.

The whole time, their hands were on her, worshipping her body, squeezing, groping, sliding over her breasts, her ass, her thighs. It was intoxicating, feeling both of them wanting her so desperately, their bodies reacting to her touch, their cocks throbbing in her hands.

But as much as their eagerness excited her, there was a question lingering in the back of her mind—Is this it? Is this what I need to finally feel satisfied?

Her body was buzzing with anticipation, with lust, with the thrill of having two men at her mercy, but deep down, she still wondered if this was what would finally quench that nagging, unfulfilled desire that had been plaguing her for so long. Could this really be the answer?

Jieun's heart pounded in her chest, the thrill of what she was about to do overwhelming her senses. Her hands still wrapped around their cocks, she slowly sank down to her knees, the plush carpet soft beneath her as she came face-to-face with both men’s stiff lengths. Jongsuk's cock, familiar and loved, stood beside Minho's, another man’s erection staring back at her, making her pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and curiosity. The two cocks were of average size, nothing monstrous, but the act itself—the shared intimacy between them—made everything feel larger than life.

She glanced up at Jongsuk first, locking eyes with him, a playful glint in her gaze as she leaned in, her warm breath ghosting over the head of his cock. Her tongue darted out, swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting the salty drop of pre-cum that had already formed. He groaned, his hips twitching at her touch, and she smiled around his cock, savoring the control she had over him. This was her boyfriend, the man she loved, and here she was, kneeling before him, giving herself to this wild fantasy she had spun between them.

But she wasn’t done yet. Turning her head slightly, she shifted to Minho’s cock, giving him the same attention she had just given Jongsuk. Her tongue dragged along his length, starting from the base and moving slowly, deliberately, all the way to the tip. Minho’s breath hitched, his cock twitching in her hand as she reached the tip, giving it a soft, teasing kiss before pulling away. She could hear his low, guttural groan, and it sent a shiver of satisfaction through her.

She turned her attention back to Jongsuk, giving his cock another slow, deliberate swirl of her tongue around the head. This time, she kept her eyes locked on his, watching his reaction, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. “You like that, baby?” she purred softly, her voice teasing, dripping with seduction. “Does it feel good watching me like this... sharing me with him?”

Jongsuk let out a shaky breath, his hand instinctively moving to her hair, gripping it gently as he stared down at her. “Fuck, Jieun... yes,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. There was no hesitation in his answer now, no trace of doubt. He wanted this just as much as she did.

With that, Jieun took him fully into her mouth, her lips stretching around his length, sliding down until the head of his cock pressed against the back of her throat. She moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his shaft, sending another shiver down his spine. Her hand moved to Minho’s cock, pumping him slowly, steadily, as she sucked Jongsuk deeper into her wet, warm mouth.

Her mind buzzed with pleasure, the thrill of having both of them here, of tasting them both, overwhelming her. Maybe this really is what I needed, she thought as she moved her head up and down, sucking her boyfriend’s cock with practiced skill. She could feel her pussy throbbing, wetness pooling between her thighs, and the heat rising in her core. The excitement of having two men watching her, both of them hard and eager for her, was electric. Maybe this is what will finally satisfy me.

Once she had Jongsuk’s cock sufficiently slick with her saliva, she turned her attention back to Minho, switching effortlessly as she took him into her mouth next. Her hand returned to Jongsuk’s cock, stroking him with the same steady rhythm she had used on Minho before. Minho groaned deeply as her lips wrapped around him, her tongue swirling around his shaft just as she had done with Jongsuk. His fingers tangled in her hair, not rough but firm, guiding her just enough to let her know how much he wanted it.

She alternated between them, sucking one while jerking off the other, her movements fluid, confident, her body fully immersed in the pleasure of pleasing them both. Every time she switched, she could feel their reactions—Jongsuk’s sharp inhalations, Minho’s quiet growls—and it fueled her, pushing her deeper into the headspace she craved. Yes, this is what I needed. This is what I’ve been missing.

Her hands worked them both, her lips gliding over each cock, wet and eager, tasting them, savoring the way they responded to her touch. The room filled with the slick sounds of her mouth, the soft gasps and groans of the men as she worshipped their cocks, alternating between them as if she were trying to outdo herself with each turn.

At one point, Jieun got an idea, a flash of inspiration that made her heart race. She lowered her face just a little, placing herself beneath both of their cocks, letting their swollen heads rest just above her lips. She stuck her tongue out, letting it flicker between the two, teasing the sensitive tips of both cocks at once. Their reactions were immediate—Jongsuk let out a low moan, his grip tightening in her hair, while Minho groaned deeply, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek as he watched her with wide, lust-filled eyes.

She swirled her tongue between them, her eyes half-lidded, enjoying the way their cocks pulsed and twitched in response to her teasing. She kissed the head of Jongsuk’s cock, then Minho’s, her lips leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over both of them. The sight of her, on her knees, with two hard cocks hanging over her, her lips and tongue working both of them, was enough to send any man into a frenzy, and she could feel their restraint slipping, the way their hips moved involuntarily toward her, begging for more.

This is it, she thought again, a rush of heat coursing through her body as she continued her slutty display. This is what I needed all along. The power, the control, the attention of two men completely devoted to her pleasure—it was intoxicating. She could feel the satisfaction building, the knot of desire deep inside her starting to unravel. This is what will make me feel whole again.

Jieun’s moans became louder, more desperate as she continued to alternate between them, sucking one cock while stroking the other, then switching, her mouth wet and warm around them both. The way they responded to her, the way they moaned her name, only fueled her more. This was what she had been craving, this overwhelming sensation of being desired, of being shared, of having two men completely lost in her.

Jieun could feel the power thrumming through her body as she released their cocks with a loud, wet pop, their tips glistening from her mouth. She grinned, her eyes flicking up at the two men as she gave each of their throbbing heads a teasing kiss, her lips lingering just enough to drive them crazy. Jongsuk's cock twitched at her touch, and Minho groaned, his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to thrust into her mouth again. They were both on the verge of losing control, their bodies aching for release, but Jieun wasn’t done playing with them yet.

"Come here," she purred, rising gracefully to her feet, her hands immediately wrapping around their shafts again. She tugged them both toward the bed, leading them by their cocks as if they were nothing more than her obedient toys. The way their hips jerked in response to her every pull sent a thrill straight to her core, and she knew she had them exactly where she wanted them.

Once she reached the bed, Jieun let go of their cocks again, watching as they stood there, eyes glazed over with pure lust, waiting for her next move. She climbed onto the mattress slowly, deliberately, her every movement slow and sensual, giving them a perfect view of her body as she crawled to the center of the king-sized bed. Her ass swayed with every step, the thin strip of lace barely covering her as she got on all fours, her body stretched out like an offering.

She paused in the middle of the bed, arching her back, making sure her ass was fully on display for them. Jieun glanced back over her shoulder, her dark hair cascading over one side as she gave them a smoldering look, the fire in her eyes practically daring them to touch her. "Look at how hard you both are for me," she teased, her voice thick with arousal. "Stroke your cocks for me. I want to see you both jerk off while you watch me."

Jongsuk and Minho didn’t need to be told twice. Their hands wrapped around their cocks, stroking slowly at first, their eyes locked onto Jieun’s perfect ass as she wiggled it for them, the lace thong doing nothing to hide the curves of her body. The sound of their labored breathing filled the room, and Jieun smiled, biting her lower lip as she watched them struggle to contain themselves.

She lowered her upper body onto the bed, her chest pressing against the sheets, arching her back even more to push her ass higher into the air. Her hands slid back, caressing her own ass before smacking it lightly, the sound of her hand slapping her flesh making both men groan, their strokes quickening involuntarily. "Mm, you like that?" she cooed, her fingers playing with the waistband of her thong, tugging it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "I bet you want to fuck me so bad right now... but you have to be patient."

They groaned in unison, their eyes locked on her every movement, their hands jerking their cocks faster. But Jieun wasn’t done teasing them yet. She smacked her ass again, harder this time, making it jiggle just enough to drive them wild. "Slow down," she commanded softly, a playful edge in her voice. "You’ll do exactly what I say, or else you won’t get a taste of this tonight."

Jongsuk’s breath hitched, and Minho let out a frustrated grunt, but they both obeyed, slowing their hands despite the obvious struggle. Jieun smirked, pleased with their obedience, and finally slid her thong down, peeling the delicate fabric from her ass and thighs, revealing her bare skin. The tiny strip of lace slipped over her knees and onto the bed, leaving her completely exposed save for the garter and stockings still adorning her legs.

She tossed the thong toward them, and Minho caught it easily, immediately bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply, his eyes fluttering shut as the scent of her arousal filled his senses. His cock jerked in his hand, and without missing a beat, he wrapped the thong around his length, using it to jerk himself off as he stroked faster. "Fuck, Jieun," Minho growled, his voice thick with need, his eyes locked on her dripping pussy.

Jieun grinned, loving how wild she was making them both. "You like that, don’t you? Fighting over me... stroking yourselves like you’re desperate for me." She glanced at Jongsuk, her boyfriend’s eyes dark with lust as his hand worked his cock faster, his gaze fixated on her bare ass, on her slick, wet pussy that glistened between her thighs. "You’ve both got me so wet," she moaned, spreading her ass cheeks wide with both hands, showing them everything—her tight, puckered asshole, her soaked cunt, all of it on display just for them.

The two men groaned loudly, their strokes becoming erratic as they watched her tease them, her fingers spreading herself open, her voice sweet and filthy as she told them how turned on they were making her. Minho was stroking his cock with her thong still wrapped around it, his face twisted in pleasure, while Jongsuk’s eyes were glued to the sight of her spread wide, his hand moving faster and faster.

Jieun could tell they were close, their bodies tensing, their breath coming in ragged gasps, and it made her pulse race even more. She decided to push them just a little further, to make this a game, something to heighten the intensity of the moment.

"Mm, you’re both about to cum, aren’t you?" she teased, her voice low and sultry. "But here’s the thing..." She flipped onto her back, her legs spread wide, her pussy glistening and ready as she leaned back against a pillow, looking up at them with a wicked smile. "The last one to cum gets to fuck me first. So, if you want to be the one inside me... you better hold it in."

Jongsuk’s eyes widened, and Minho groaned, their hands hesitating for just a moment as they processed her words. But the sight of her, lying there with her legs spread, her fingers dipping down to rub her wet pussy right in front of them, was too much to handle. She started to play with herself, her fingers sliding over her swollen clit, her hips lifting off the bed as she moaned softly. "Come on, baby," she whispered, looking at Jongsuk, then Minho. "Who’s going to cum for me first? Don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to be the one to feel how wet I am?"

Her dirty words, her slick fingers rubbing her pussy, the way her body writhed on the bed—it was pushing them both to the brink. Their hands were a blur, their cocks jerking furiously as they watched her play with herself, their eyes glued to the sight of her wetness, to the way she teased them with every moan, every soft gasp.

Minho’s hand tightened around his cock, the thong still wrapped around it as he stroked faster, his eyes locked on her pussy. He was close—so close he could feel the orgasm building in his core, ready to explode at any moment.

But Jongsuk wasn’t far behind, his body trembling as he fought to hold back, his eyes fixed on Jieun’s face, her lips parted in pleasure as she rubbed herself faster, teasing him, making him want to cum so badly but knowing he had to hold on if he wanted to be the first to fuck her.

"Who’s going to give in?" she purred, her voice a soft taunt as she arched her back, her fingers dipping lower, sliding over her slick folds as she moaned louder. "Come on, boys... I want to see you lose control for me."

Minho's body tensed, his strokes becoming erratic, and before he could stop himself, he came. Thick spurts of cum splattered across the carpet, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body shuddered with release. He cursed under his breath, knowing he had lost, but the sight of Jieun still on her knees, watching him with that teasing smile on her lips, made it all the more frustrating.

“Aww, too bad, Minho,” Jieun cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, her finger playfully curling toward Jongsuk. “Looks like you’re not the lucky one tonight.” She bit her lip as she turned her attention fully to her boyfriend. “Come here, baby.”

Jongsuk stepped forward, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of finally being the one to take her. But Jieun had other plans. She got back on all fours, her body curving sensually as she wrapped her hand around Jongsuk’s cock. Slowly, she began stroking him, her grip firm and teasing as she gazed up at him with dark, hooded eyes.

“You've been so good, holding back for me,” she whispered before leaning in, her tongue flicking out to trace the head of his cock. Jongsuk groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily, but Jieun was in full control now. She swirled her tongue around him, her lips wrapping around his swollen head before she took him deeper into her mouth.

Her tongue danced along his length, her hand stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. Jongsuk’s hand found her hair, his fingers tightening in her dark locks as he watched her worship his cock. Jieun’s wet, warm mouth moved over him, her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him with fervor. She looked up at him the whole time, her eyes gleaming, filled with that insatiable hunger.

It didn’t take long for Jongsuk to reach the edge, his hips bucking into her mouth as his cock twitched violently. With a choked moan, he came, thick ropes of cum spilling into Jieun’s mouth. She moaned softly around him, taking every drop, her tongue swirling lazily around his cock as he came down from his high. She kissed the tip of his cock one last time, licking him clean, her lips and tongue savoring every inch of him before she pulled away, her smile mischievous as she looked up at him.

She kissed the head of his cock, leaving his shaft glistening and spotless. Jongsuk shuddered, collapsing onto the nearby chair, his chest heaving, but before he could recover fully, Jieun gave him a playful look.

“Do you want to fuck me right away, or would you like a little break?” she asked, voice still sweet, but there was a hint of challenge in it, a test.

Jongsuk, still catching his breath, felt a pang of guilt as he leaned back. “I think… I might need a moment,” he admitted. Disappointing, Jieun thought, though she kept her expression soft and understanding. She simply nodded and smiled, hiding the tiny flicker of frustration. She wanted more, needed more. But Jongsuk was always a little slower to catch up to her desires.

As he settled into the chair, Minho, not one to miss an opportunity, stepped forward. “I can help,” he said, his voice eager, his cock still half-hard despite his recent release. Jieun raised an eyebrow at him, thinking he might try to claim what he had lost by coming first. But she wasn’t going to let him off that easy.

“Help, huh?” Jieun smirked, glancing over at Jongsuk before turning back to Minho. “Alright... but you’re not fucking me yet. You’ll be eating me out while Jongsuk watches.” Her tone was authoritative, leaving no room for argument. Minho didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, already eager to please her.

Jieun positioned herself on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide, her pussy glistening with a mixture of her own arousal and anticipation. “Go ahead,” she purred, running her fingers lightly over her clit, teasing herself just enough to get him started. Minho leaned in, wasting no time, his mouth immediately latching onto her wet folds. His tongue was eager, swirling around her swollen clit, then dipping down to taste her slick entrance.

Minho’s mouth worked feverishly, licking, sucking, devouring her like he was starved for it. His tongue flicked against her clit with precision, then trailed down, plunging into her tight cunt, fucking her with his mouth in a desperate attempt to make her cum. Jieun threw her head back, her hands tangling in his hair as her hips bucked against his face. The pleasure was sharp, intense, and she could feel the knot in her core tightening with every stroke of his tongue.

She glanced over at Jongsuk, who was watching them from the chair, his cock already hardening again as he stroked himself slowly, eyes wide with fascination. Seeing him aroused by this only made Jieun’s pleasure climb higher, the idea of being watched as she was pleasured sending shivers down her spine. Minho wasn’t just preparing her for Jongsuk—he was trying to make her cum, trying to win her over completely.

And it worked.

Jieun’s breath hitched, her thighs trembling as Minho’s relentless tongue pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm hit her hard, her pussy clenching around nothing as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. She let out a low, guttural moan, her hips jerking against Minho’s face as she rode the high of her release.

“Fuck,” she gasped, pushing Minho’s head away, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “That was... good.” She smiled, her body still tingling, but there was no time to rest. She needed more. Her body was burning for it.

Turning her gaze to Jongsuk, she crooked her finger, beckoning him over. “Come here,” she commanded softly, her voice thick with need. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Jongsuk stood, his cock fully hard again from watching them, his earlier hesitation melting away. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over Jieun, their bodies aligning in a familiar but now electrifying way. He settled between her legs, his cock pressing against her slick entrance, the wetness of her pussy mixed with Minho’s saliva making the glide easy.

Jieun wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep kiss, their tongues tangling as she ground her pussy against him, her slick folds coating his cock in her arousal. “Put it in,” she whispered against his lips, her voice heavy with desire. “I need you to fuck me, Jongsuk.”

He obliged, pushing into her slowly, but Jieun was impatient now. She needed to be fucked, needed to be filled, and the slow pace wasn’t cutting it. “Faster,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back. “Fuck me harder, baby.”

Jongsuk’s pace quickened, his hips slamming into her as he fucked her harder, his cock filling her over and over again. But Jieun needed more, craved more, and no matter how fast he went, it wasn’t enough. “More,” she moaned, her voice needy, desperate. “Harder.”

The intensity of her need caught him off guard. Jongsuk had never seen her like this, so ravenous, so demanding. He tried to keep up, pounding into her, but he was already close, the overwhelming sensation of her wet pussy gripping him making it impossible to hold on. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his body tensing, hips losing rhythm.

“Stop,” Jieun commanded breathlessly, her voice sharp. She pushed him off, her hands firm against his chest. “I’m not done yet.”

Jongsuk blinked in surprise, but before he could protest, Jieun turned her head toward Minho. “Come here,” she ordered, her eyes blazing with lust. “You’re going to fuck me now... and you better not cum right away.”

Minho, still stroking his cock, stood immediately. His eyes flashed with excitement, eager to finally get his chance. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind Jieun as she arched her back, her ass lifting invitingly toward him. Jongsuk, still catching his breath, watched from the side, trying to make sense of his emotions. There was a part of him that stung with rejection, but another, deeper part of him... was fascinated. Turned on even, as he watched Minho grip Jieun’s hips and line himself up with her dripping wet pussy.

When Minho finally thrust into her, Jieun cried out, her voice high-pitched and raw with pleasure. “Yes!” she screamed, her body jolting forward as Minho buried himself inside her. He fucked her with a ferocity that Jongsuk hadn’t managed, his hips slamming into her harder and faster with every thrust, just like she had begged for.

Jongsuk watched, his eyes wide, his hand unconsciously moving to stroke his cock again. The sight of Minho drilling into Jieun, the way her body arched, the way she moaned and gasped, the sound of skin slapping against skin—it all fascinated him. What intrigued him even more was how hard he was getting just watching the two of them.

Minho’s thrusts became uneven, his hips faltering as he tried to keep up with Jieun’s increasingly desperate demands. Despite his best efforts, even his eager pace wasn’t enough for her, and Jieun could feel her dissatisfaction creeping back in, the same gnawing emptiness that had haunted her nights with Jongsuk. She needed more—something deeper, something wilder, something that would finally fill the void inside her.

It hit her then: she wanted both of them, inside her at the same time. That was the only way she could get closer to the satisfaction she was chasing. She had been on edge all night, but the idea of being fucked in both her pussy and ass at once sparked a new heat, a new kind of lust that she knew would finally push her closer to what she needed.

“Stop,” she gasped, pushing Minho off of her, her body shuddering from the effort of holding back her frustrations. “Get off, I want to change positions.”

Minho, panting and confused, immediately withdrew, his cock slick with her juices as he sat back on his heels. Jieun wasted no time, rolling over and getting onto all fours again, her eyes flashing with intensity as she pointed at Jongsuk, then gestured for him to take his place behind her. She was done playing. She wanted this—needed this.

“Jongsuk,” she breathed, her voice dripping with command, “I want you to fuck me from behind.” Then, she pointed at Minho, her lips curling into a sultry smile. “And you, come up here... I want your cock in my throat.”

Jongsuk’s eyes gleamed as he moved into position behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he lined himself up with her dripping pussy. Without hesitation, he slid his cock back inside her, and she moaned softly, her body arching with the familiar sensation. But this time, it was different. This time, her mind was already locked onto what was coming next.

As Jongsuk began to thrust into her from behind, his hips slamming into her ass with the sound of skin smacking against skin, Jieun turned her head toward Minho. Her eyes were glazed over with lust, her lips parted as she watched him approach. He was already hard again, his cock twitching in his hand as he stood before her. With a slow, deliberate movement, she opened her mouth and guided him inside, her lips wrapping around his shaft with a practiced ease.

Jongsuk groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he pounded into her from behind, his cock driving into her slick pussy harder and faster. Her peachy ass bounced with each thrust, the impact sending ripples through her body. He smacked her ass once, twice, watching the way it jiggled under his hand before gripping it firmly, pulling her back onto his cock with every thrust.

Meanwhile, Jieun’s lips were wrapped around Minho’s cock, her eyes locked onto his as she took him deeper into her throat. The sounds of her squelching throat filled the room, wet with drool as she worked him with her mouth. Impressively, she didn’t gag—there was no challenge for her, even as he pushed deeper into her throat. She could take him, and she did, her throat relaxing around his shaft as her head bobbed back and forth, keeping rhythm with Jongsuk’s thrusts from behind.

The two men were groaning, lost in the heat of the moment. Minho’s hands tangled in her hair as he gently guided her movements, his hips bucking slightly as he fucked her throat. Jongsuk was grunting, his cock slamming into her with reckless abandon, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the room. Jieun was aware of how turned on they were, how much they were enjoying themselves, and she kept up the act, moaning around Minho’s cock, her body writhing beneath Jongsuk’s hands as if she were getting closer to the edge.

But the truth was, she still wasn’t there. Not yet.

That gnawing hunger for more clawed at her, and she knew exactly what she needed now. She pulled back from Minho’s cock with a gasp, her lips wet with spit as she looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a new kind of intensity. “I want you both,” she said, her voice low, sultry. “I want you in my pussy and my ass at the same time.”

Minho groaned, looking down at her with wide eyes, clearly eager to fulfill her request. Jongsuk paused for a moment, his hands still gripping her hips as he processed what she was asking for. But he didn’t hesitate. “Alright,” Jongsuk said, breathless, pulling out of her slowly.

Jieun shifted, rolling onto her back for a moment before sliding onto Minho’s lap. She straddled him, positioning herself over his cock, her wet pussy already slick and ready as she lowered herself onto him. Minho groaned as she sank down onto him, his hands immediately moving to her hips as she began to ride him.

But Jieun wasn’t done yet. She glanced back at Jongsuk, who was already reaching for the lube on the nightstand. He spread the slippery gel over his cock, then lubed up his fingers, gently rubbing the slick substance around the tight entrance of her ass. Jieun shivered at the sensation, her breath hitching as she felt his fingers slip inside, preparing her for what was to come.

When she was ready, Jongsuk positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against the tight, lubed entrance of her ass. Slowly, he pushed forward, the pressure building as his cock slid inside her inch by inch. Jieun moaned, her body tensing for a moment before she relaxed, allowing him to stretch her ass open, filling her completely.

For the first time that night, she felt it. That fullness. That overwhelming sensation of being filled in both her pussy and ass at the same time. It was exactly what she had been craving, and a low, guttural moan escaped her lips as she settled into the sensation, her body shuddering with the intensity of it.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her voice breathless as she looked between the two men. “Start moving. I want you both to fuck me... like the dirty slut I am.”

Jongsuk didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he began to thrust into her ass, his cock sliding in and out of her with slow, deliberate strokes at first. Meanwhile, Minho started moving beneath her, his cock thrusting up into her pussy as he gripped her waist, the two men finding a rhythm as they fucked her in unison.

Jieun’s body rocked between them, her hips grinding down onto Minho’s cock while Jongsuk’s cock filled her ass from behind. She felt the delicious stretch of her ass, the fullness in her pussy, and for the first time that night, she was starting to feel something close to the satisfaction she had been chasing. The sensation of being used by both of them at once, her body caught between two cocks, was exactly what she needed.

“Fuck me,” she moaned, her voice desperate, urging them on. “Fuck me harder... I want you both to use me... treat me like your dirty little slut.”

Jongsuk groaned, his hips slamming into her ass with more force now, his cock driving deeper into her with every thrust. Minho matched his pace, his cock filling her pussy with the same urgency. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, their grunts and groans, filled the room as they fucked her mercilessly, giving her exactly what she had begged for.

Jieun’s head fell back, her mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as they fucked her from both ends, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of it all. This—this was what she had been craving. This raw, primal need, this feeling of being completely overwhelmed, filled to the brim, fucked by both of them at once. She wasn’t pretending anymore.

Jieun's body was the picture of bliss, her lips parted in moans as Jongsuk and Minho relentlessly pounded into her, filling her from both ends. Her eyes rolled back, her breath ragged, and for a brief moment, she thought she had finally reached it—euphoria. Being stuffed by two men, her holes stretched and used, should have been enough. It felt like it should have been enough. But as the minutes ticked by, and the rhythm of their thrusts became predictable, Jieun’s pleasure slowly, cruelly, began to dull.

She tried to keep the fire alive, pushing herself to find satisfaction, to demand more from them. Her lips parted to speak, to command, "Harder… fuck me harder, do better..." But the words barely escaped her mouth before Minho grunted above her, his voice tight and strained.

"I’m close," he breathed, his thrusts losing their power.

Jongsuk, behind her, echoed the same. "Shit... I’m almost there too..."

Inside, Jieun sighed, feeling the disappointment weigh heavy in her chest. Her pussy clenched instinctively, trying to draw out any last pleasure from them, but it was too late. They were already on the edge, and she knew it was over. She would never get the satisfaction she had been chasing, not tonight. But she couldn’t let them know that.

So she bit down on her frustration and plastered a look of lust across her face, throwing her head back as if she were on the brink of orgasm herself. "Mmm, yes, I’m gonna cum too," she moaned, her voice sultry, playing the part of the satisfied lover to perfection. "But when you cum... pull out. Cum on my face... in my mouth," she panted, giving them the fantasy they were craving.

The two men grunted their assent, their pace quickening as they chased their release. It didn’t take long—Minho was the first to pull out, his cock slick with her juices as he scrambled off the bed, hand furiously jerking his shaft as he stood over her. Jongsuk followed, his cock twitching as he withdrew from her ass, standing next to Minho with the same desperation in his eyes.

Jieun slid off the bed, positioning herself on her knees on the soft carpet, looking up at them with wide, slutty eyes. She opened her mouth, tongue out, her hands squeezing her tits together as the two men jerked their cocks inches from her face.

"Come on," she whispered, her voice low and teasing, "give me your cum. Cover me. Fill my dirty little mouth."

It was all they needed. Minho was the first to erupt, thick ropes of cum spurting across Jieun’s beautiful face, coating her cheeks, her lips, her chin. She moaned as it splattered onto her skin, licking her lips seductively, making a show of how much she loved being covered in their release. Jongsuk followed almost immediately, his load joining Minho’s, his cock jerking in his hand as he shot his cum into her waiting mouth. Jieun moaned louder, letting the hot, salty liquid pool on her tongue before swallowing it down, opening her mouth to show them the remnants of their pleasure.

"Fuck, yes... such a dirty slut for our cum,” groaned the men. Jieun moaned, her voice thick with arousal as she scooped the stray drops off her face with her fingers, licking them clean like it was the sweetest treat. She glanced up at them, her expression still one of pure lust, even as her mind was already elsewhere, trying to reconcile the empty ache that lingered inside her.

Once they were done, their bodies spent, Jieun made a show of licking their cocks clean, sucking gently on the heads, making sure there wasn’t a drop left. When she finished, she smiled up at them, her face still smeared with their release. "Just wait here," she said sweetly, getting to her feet. "I’ll be right back."

As she walked to the bathroom, Jongsuk and Minho collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted and drained. Jieun glanced at them over her shoulder, her face still a mask of seductive satisfaction. But the moment she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, her expression shifted. She leaned over the toilet, spitting out the cum she had held in her mouth, her stomach twisting in knots. The aftertaste lingered bitterly on her tongue as she flushed it away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The mirror caught her eye, and she stared at her reflection, her face smeared with cum and her eyes reflecting back confusion and frustration. Two men, she thought bitterly. I had two men, and still... The dull ache of dissatisfaction gnawed at her, a cruel reminder that no matter what she did, no matter how wild the night, it wasn’t enough. It never seemed to be enough.

She turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away the cum on her skin, her mind racing as the water cascaded over her. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be satisfied? She scrubbed harder, the water mingling with her frustration as she tried to cleanse herself not just of the night, but of the emptiness that followed her every encounter.

Once she finished, she wrapped a towel around her body and stepped back into the bedroom. Jongsuk was still lying on the bed, his eyes following her as she moved across the room. Minho had already risen and was heading to the bathroom to shower, knowing he wouldn’t be staying the night with the couple.

Jieun smiled sweetly at Jongsuk, climbing into bed next to him. "Did you like it?" he asked, his voice soft, hopeful.

She didn’t hesitate. "Of course," she lied easily, giving him a reassuring smile. "It was amazing, baby." She leaned in, kissing him gently. "Did you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking relieved. "It was... really something."

"Good," Jieun whispered, nuzzling against him, hiding the conflict swirling inside her. They snuggled together on the bed, Jongsuk’s arm draped over her waist as he sighed contentedly. But Jieun’s mind was already far away, drifting through the haze of unsatisfied desires.

Minho finished showering, emerging from the bathroom with a smile. "Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice friendly, but tired. "It was... incredible."

The couple thanked him in return, and Jongsuk offered to walk him out, but Minho waved it off. "Nah, man, look after her," he said with a grin, clapping Jongsuk on the shoulder before giving him a quick, friendly handshake. "See you around."

Jieun watched him go, her smile never faltering until the door closed behind him. And then, as silence settled over the room, she leaned back against the pillows, Jongsuk’s arm still around her, her body warm from the shower. But her mind buzzed with one burning question.

Why wasn’t it enough?

Jieun watched as Jongsuk disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence left in his wake. As soon as she was alone, she exhaled sharply, biting her bottom lip—not from arousal, but from the growing frustration that had been gnawing at her ever since the threesome had ended. Why hadn’t she felt satisfied? Two men—two cocks—her wildest fantasies lived out right in front of her, and still, that dull ache of emptiness lingered.

She could feel it clawing at the back of her mind, an unresolved hunger that no amount of sex tonight had managed to quell. What’s wrong with me? she thought, her fingers restlessly drumming against the sheets. She couldn’t understand why, after everything, she still felt so hollow inside. But then... a thought bubbled up from the recesses of her mind.

Without fully realizing what she was doing, Jieun reached for her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen. She knew what she was looking for—the video. That certain video. It had been sitting there, teasing her thoughts ever since she’d first stumbled upon it. She quickly found it in his saved videos, and before she could second-guess herself, she pressed play.

Her eyes immediately locked onto the screen, and there they were: two massive, hulking black men, their dark skin gleaming under the lights, their muscles rippling as they towered over the woman between them. Their cocks—fuck, they were enormous, long and thick, stretching the woman’s holes to the absolute limit. The sheer size of them filled the screen, pounding into the woman relentlessly, taking turns fucking her ass and pussy in a way that made Jieun’s breath hitch.

Black men.

She’d watched this video before, but somehow, tonight, the sight of those bulging muscles, that dark, gleaming skin, and those impossibly thick cocks made her pulse quicken in a way that nothing else had. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily as her body responded, her pussy slick with wetness.

Was it not just the threesome that had been missing? Was it them? The size, the intensity, the raw power behind every thrust? As she watched those two men use the woman, filling her up in ways Jieun could only dream of, her fingers instinctively slipped down between her thighs, parting her slick folds as her breath quickened. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen.

The sound of water running in the bathroom faded into the background as Jieun’s fingers circled her clit, her body responding faster than it had all night. She followed the rhythm of the video, the wet slaps of the men’s cocks echoing through the room as they drilled the woman mercilessly. Jieun’s pussy squelched as her fingers worked faster, mirroring the pace of the black men’s thrusts.

Her thoughts became a chant—fuck, fuck, fuck—echoing in her mind as she imagined herself in the woman’s place, stuffed full by two impossibly large cocks, their dark skin pressed against hers, their deep voices groaning in pleasure. The wet, filthy sounds filled the room, and she was so fucking close—closer than she had been all night.

Her fingers moved faster, her hips bucking against her hand as her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling in quick, desperate gasps. Just as the men in the video slammed into the woman one last time, Jieun’s body tensed, her fingers slipping deeper into her wet cunt. She let out a soft, muffled squeal, covering her mouth with her free hand as her body spasmed in release. Her juices gushed out over her fingers as she squirted, her whole body shaking as the orgasm tore through her like a wave crashing against a rocky shore.

Jieun’s mind went blank for a moment, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her fingers were slick with her own cum, and the phone lay abandoned on the bed, the video still playing in the background. She blinked, dazed, her breath ragged as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She had just come—harder than she had all night—and it was all from watching that video.

A video of a woman getting fucked by two black men.

Jieun gasped softly, the realization crashing into her with full force. Was that what she wanted all along? Was it not just the idea of a threesome but... them? The size, the dominance, the way those cocks filled the woman completely? Her pulse quickened again at the thought, the wetness between her legs already threatening to return.

Before she could fully process it, she heard the bathroom door open, and Jongsuk emerged with a towel slung low around his waist, his skin still damp from the shower. He was smiling, walking over to her as he rubbed the towel through his hair. "Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. But when he saw the look on her face, his smile faltered slightly. "Is something wrong?"

Jieun quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she shook her head. "No, nothing’s wrong," she lied smoothly, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a quick kiss. She kissed him again, more softly this time, before hugging him tightly, her body pressed against his. But as her lips brushed his, she couldn’t stop thinking about those massive black cocks from the video, filling up the woman in ways Jongsuk could never compare to. Her body was already betraying her, the thought alone making her wet again.

They both got ready for bed, slipping under the covers of the king-sized bed they had paid for, Jongsuk snuggling up against her. His arm draped over her waist, pulling her close as he kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, baby," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"Goodnight," Jieun whispered back, forcing another smile as she lay in his arms. But even as his body pressed against hers, warm and familiar, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was buzzing, her thoughts racing. She bit her lip, but this time, it wasn’t out of frustration—it was because the memory of those black cocks filled her head, and with each passing second, the ache between her thighs grew harder to ignore.

Is that what I need? she thought, her pulse quickening once again. Big, thick, black cocks... She pressed her legs together, trying to stave off the rising desire that pulsed through her, but it was no use. Her body was betraying her, and no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, her mind kept wandering back to that video. To the sight of those two men using the woman, stretching her to the limit.

Jongsuk’s soft breathing filled the room as he drifted off to sleep beside her, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling in Jieun’s mind. She lay there, wide awake, biting her lip as the thought of being fucked by men like that consumed her thoughts. The ache between her legs refused to go away, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized—that might be what she needed after all.

But what did that mean for her and Jongsuk?

.

.

.

a/n: hiiii! I haven't released anything in a while. With how busy I got and other things, but I was preparing this project series- yes it's gonna be a series- for a while now and I thought it's high time it should see the light of day haha. well that's all for now. I hope you'd look forward to the next chapters! do like and reblog if you enjoyed it mehehe. oh and i'm always open to constructive criticism so feel free to leave some if you want~

[buttercandy16]

SEDUCED BY MY STEPMOTHER

(R E M A K E)

PAIRING: Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: After four years, the reader's father introduces his new fiance to the family - who turns out to be an alluring and mysterious seductress who is set to shake up the lives of the reader and their loved ones in ways they never could have imagined.

WARNING(s): None... yet!

A/N: This is one of my old stories that wattpad deleted. I decided to do some slight remake to it, character wise and all.

Should I continue this?

Y/N POV

I stood close to the balcony, staring at the beautiful view of the setting sun to clear my head. I  just recently found out that for the last few months my beloved father has been seeing someone in secret. On this warm evening, I’ll be meeting her for the first time at dinner. It was finally time that he did so I guess since he’s been widowed for almost 4 years already since my mother died from a car crash. But even with that certain thought I can’t help but feel uneasy about the changes that are about to happen. Hopefully, whoever she is, she’ll be a good one, for my father and also for me.

“Hurry up Y/N, or we’ll be late!” My deep thoughts were disturbed when I heard my father’s voice calling me from downstairs. I guess it’s finally time to leave.

Standing in front of the mirror I straightened my mid-white dress while checking my hair for the last time before grabbing my shoulder bag and went running downstairs.

“No running in the house young lady! How many times do I have to tell you that?” By the end of the stairs stood my father Frank, looking more dashing than usual while wearing his expensive black suit and tie.

“Sorry dad, just didn’t want you to call out for me again” I responded while giving a sheepish smile.

He gave me a playful eye roll as he grabbed my hands and gave each of my knuckles a chaste kiss.

“I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me, sweetheart. I know this is not easy for you” he said while still holding both of my small hands in his large ones.

“Anything for you dad, as long as she makes you happy,” I said while I gave him a reassuring smile.

“She does, she really does. Now let’s not keep her waiting, shall we?” Dad smiled as he led both of us to his car.

I really do hope so dad…

(A few moments later)

We finally arrived at the restaurant after a 30-minute drive. Dad left his car keys to the valet and went straight inside while I followed close behind.

A male waiter in his 20s led us to a secluded part of the restaurant where a single square table was set beside a huge glass window that oversees the beautiful night streets. I was so caught up with the dancing lights outside that I failed to notice the beautiful woman sitting at our table.

That is until I heard a velvet-like voice calling out my name.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Agatha Harkness. It’s nice to finally meet Frank’s special girl”

My eyes looked for the owner of the angelic voice and they immediately settled on a beautiful woman in a purple dress. I can’t help but admire the beauty in front of me from head to toe. She is breathtaking. Aside from her physical appearance, I can also smell her intoxicating scent from where I stand. I’m in awe, I’ve never met someone as attractive as her before. I was about to look her over again but I was interrupted when I felt my father’s arm on my shoulder.

“Y/N, aren’t you gonna say something?” daddy asked.

“Umm…”

Due to being lost in my own thoughts, I became speechless as I looked up at my father’s questioning gaze before settling my vision on Agatha’s. Her eyes… oh her eyes… held something dark and mischievous that made me shiver to the core. I caught a small glimpse of the subtle smirk on her rosy lips before it disappeared.  That’s when I realized that she must’ve caught me while I was checking her out. Oh, fudge how embarrassing!!

I immediately shook out from my thoughts and shakily offered my right hand for her to take.

“Um... It’s nice to meet you too Miss Harkness” I gave her a shy smile which she reciprocated by giving me a radiant smile before correcting me. “Agatha, will do, sweetheart”.

She took my hand in her slender ones and gave it a soft squeeze. Her hand was so soft and it looked a little bigger compared to mine, she held my hand a little longer than she should have, which almost caused my heart to burst out from its ribcage before she decided to finally let go.

My father then ushered us to take a seat but before he got to do so, Agatha called out to him.

“Hon, did you forget something?” She asked with one eyebrow up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Silly me” my father went towards her and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was supposed to be a chaste one but before he can step away she grabbed the back of his neck to hold him in place and then deepened the kiss.

I was going to look away because the sudden intimacy made me uncomfortable but before I could, I found myself frozen on my chair and my breath coming in short and hot when I saw her giving my father a passionate kiss…while her eyes were devouring mine.

What. the. actual. hell?!

_-_-_-_

Thoughts?

[iichfilwypj]

labyrinth | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 588 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 -pt 6

Remember how I told you a certain daughter of Hypnos was terrified to meet her best friend’s family?

Yeah, well.

Emphasis on was.

After waking up, she half-expected to face an interrogation. You know, the typical ‘Who are your parents?’, ‘Where are you from?’, ‘Are you planning on turning my son into a criminal?’ and all of that.  

But instead, she was met with a plate of blue pancakes, the scent of salt air, and a pair of big green eyes filled with curiosity looking at her.

Percy was nowhere around, but both Sally and Estelle were close by,  making sure the girl was settling in well. It didn’t take long before the girl felt very comfortable, joking with Percy’s family as they prepared dinner together.

They were just like him; welcoming, funny, caring. Her smile never faded; the overwhelming sense in that home was undeniable, but it felt like a good kind of overwhelming. 

"And then he fell! Right on his face!" Sally said with a chuckle, recounting stories of her son’s childhood. The girl could only laugh along –Percy hadn’t changed much over the years. 

At their feet, Estelle was making the impossible to get their attention, handing them random toys and pulling their shirts. 

“I was so worried, I thought he’d be disfigured forever!"

“I mean…”

“Estelle!” Percy’s voice rang out suddenly from the kitchen. He was standing in the doorway, grocery bags on his shoulder. He rushed toward his sister, leaving the stuff on the floor and lifting the little one high above his head. “Mom, I found our dinner! Prepare the oven!”

All Hypno’s daughter could do was watch the familiar scene unfold before her eyes. She was well aware that Percy was good with children; at camp, everyone looked up to him, not just as an example to follow, but as someone they could trust. 

She then noticed how pretty Percy’s hair looked, even when it was messy from his sister’s tugging. The way he locked eyes with her for the smallest second, as if to make sure she was laughing even though his back was in pain. How his pretty green eyes wrinkled when he smiled at her even.

She saw a small dimple on his cheek that she had never noticed, at least not so closely. She realized that Percy had her mom’s smile.

Percy’s smile was her favorite, how could she not-? 

Uh, oh.

Her mind went completely blank.

Or, not quite; every thought that came to her was of Percy. Percy in his armor, Percy laughing with her, Percy bickering with a camper, Percy staring at her, Percy asleep, Percy talking, Percy…

Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy.

The thought hit her, out of nowhere, uninvited, all at once. Her chest tightened, and suddenly she felt a rush of emotions. Good emotions. She had always been careful, always so cautious about her feelings, scared of those that appeared like a fast rising elevator but wouldn't last.

But she remembered the way her heart skipped a beat when he did literally anything, the fluttering she had tried to ignore before. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. 

She felt lost in the labyrinth of her own mind; how could Percy make her feel like that?

And when the kitchen was left empty and he came closer just to hold her body and kiss her cheek, she was sure. 

I don’t just like him. 

Uh, oh. I’m falling in love.

HIII!!! i love it and at the same time i hate it ;) doesn't have a lot of interaction but our girl finally noticed something! i have plans for the next two chapetrs IM SO EXCITED I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH this is one of my favs song in the whole world!!!! love it love it love ittt

[xxmileyrosexx]

Are you fucking serious?

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Brat Tamer!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Brat!Reader

Era: Alexandria

Smut

Warnings: Rough sex, unprotected p in v, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, dom!daryl, brat tamer!daryl, degradation (such as brat, slut, whore etc) , opposites attract, diva!reader, brat!reader, smut, plot, pet names, oral (m&f), face fucking, fingering, choking(by oral) squirting, hair pulling, small masturbation (when i say small it may aswell not be a warning but yk), pink pink PINK 🥰, spanking, a sprinkle of praise, aftercare, Reader has pink painted weapons instead of the other types (weapon paint)

First Person. (I, My, Me, etc.)

Context: Reader is a brat and Daryl fucking hates it, they have known each other since the quarry but Daryl has always seemed to hate her for some reason, so Reader hates him back for it, they have to go on a run together.. who knows what will happen

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I was just applying some lip gloss, pink gloss that i found last run, thought i could treat myself seeing as it was this big mall that had clothes and a makeup store, there was also a torn up victoria secret store butttt i didn’t bother going there due the hawk eye that was on run with me that day. Speaking of which, the hawk eyed archer is walking over, with a frustrated look on his face, thats nothing new when hes forced to talk to me, that hawk eye is also called Daryl, someone I’ve known since the quarry. He has hated me since I met him, I have never really knew why. I put my lipgloss into these creme jean shorts that suited this dirty pink tank top with a pink gun in my holster, then met his walk.

“Why are you over here, What do you want?” then crossed my arms, swung my hips and then looked up at him, one thing that I’ll admit is that he has really nice eyes, they are blue and they are actually nice. “Rick has ordered us ta’ go on a run.” his southern accent dripping in his sentence, hinting at his own frustration at it. “Whys it ALWAYS us?” I rolled my eyes im my own evident anger, then followed him over to his bike, hopping on the back of it and held onto him, Daryl simply just shrugged and we were on our way to wherever the fuck we were going to.

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Finally we pulled up at some random town thats nearby, abandoned, glass was actually shattered all around the town. I got off and looked at the stores that were actually not shattered. “Personally i think we should split up.”, a grunt of annoyance was heard and i immediately turned around “Problem?” he just walked over to me and replied “Are y’ sure tha’ ya’ lil’ doll legs wont get hurt if ye’ go off alone?” and more anger flushed in my face. “What the fuck do you mean, Dixon? Just because i like fashion doesn’t mean that you get to be an asshole about it.” i was beyond pissed off at him, How could he say something so rude. I rolled my eyes at him and he just grunted in response. I just walked off, who was he to say no?

As I checked out a store for clean clothed, i couldn’t believe my eyes. It was gorgeous pink lingerie that had a 2000s satin dressing gown, who was i to say no to that beauty?! I picked it up by the hanger and checked it out, shock filling my expression, smiling at it. It was pretty dirty but nothing a little bit of cleaning wont fix. With this i could look like a goddess.. I folded it into my backpack and continued looking, the clothes here were really dirty, I picked up a few that reminded me of people at home, then went to check over the counter, some makeup that was clearly used, but very barely, I need a few more products and, personally I think the girls at home would thank me for it. I grabbed a few in different shades of everything so people have variety, there was then a hand on my shoulder, i turned around quickly, shit! a walker, I rushed to try get my knife out, i walked backwards then I accidentally made a shelf fall over, woops.., I grabbed my knife quickly then stabbed the walker right in the skull.

I finally finished the little shopping spree, about to open the door until suddenly Daryl came rushing in, i raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, about to speak, a bang was at the door, a walker hand. They were all piling up the front of the door, clearly knowing that we were in there. I turned to look at Daryl in anger. “What the fuck.” i said with aggression and he looked down at me with twice the amount of anger, i was confused on why he was so pissed off at me “What the fuck do y’ mean? Y’ just nearly got yourself killed! Walkers coming left and right from those abandoned stores ALL because you dropped something in here because of how careless you were being.” I opened my mouth wide and looked at the fallen shelf then looked back at him, he was looking at the fallen shelf and just put two and two together. “Im not being careless Daryl. I even got you a new shirt that looks far better than your torn one. It was wobbling before i even came in here, I just took the most decent stuff on it then it fell.” I rolled my eyes at him and crossed my arms, the excuse clearly poor as a glass item was fallen on-top of clothes. “Th’ dead walker says otherwise. What the fuck are y’ doing.” he said with a fed up tone then took the bag, unzipping it, seeing makeup on top of clothes. He picked up a mascara and looked at me in anger. “Fuck’n makeup? What are y’ going to do with this?” his anger becoming more and more evident by the second. “Well.. for starters theres plenty of women at home that would be very grateful without looking like they are actually apart of the dead, and secondly whys it your business?” I said with as equal aggression as him, stepping closer to him.

He went back looking in the bag and i seen the tiniest bit of the lingerie. He raised it up with aggression. “Are y’ fuck’n serious?” he said, evidently furious. I rolled my eyes again until i heard him grunt again before dropping the bag and stepping forward to me. he looked like he was hesitating, i realised how close he genuinely was and rolled my eyes again, blushing only the slightest bit. “If y-” suddenly his lips were on mine, i shut my eyes and blended into the kiss. “If i knew tha’ was what shut y’ up, I woulda done it a long time ago.” he pressed his forehead against mine. “If i knew that stopped you being a dick this whole time i would have done it myself… except you’re still an asshole.” I said with false anger in my voice, he just grunted and slammed his lips back on mine, “Such a fuck’n brat f’me.” my legs nearly fell in front of him as he said that. “Do y’ want this? Hmm?” his finger fell to my clit, i rolled my eyes and quietly let out a gut moan. He stopped directly on it, “Didnt get an answer, cmon, all silent f’me now but you were chewin’ my ear off seconds ago.” he said looking in my eyes with this lust-filled gaze i haven’t seen from him before. “Please.” i looked away from him in embarrassment, hiding how badly i really wanted him, and how i have for a longgg while now. “Please what? Y’ want me to stop? Cant do nothin’ without y’ permission. And look a’ me.” he raised his hand to my chin, making me look in his eyes. this was like a whole new Daryl.. “Fine.. please keep going, Daryl.” I looked down after i had said it, i felt the blush turning more redder as what i said settled in, suddenly i felt movement down below and i sighed with relief. “Finally a good girl mm?” he then took my hand, putting it in front of his bulge. I teasingly squeezed it and he just grunted. “On y’ knees, doll.”

I rolled my eyes then got on my knees, i slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, it hit me square in the face and he laughed. It was sure fucking big alright. There was a specific vein climbing up to the tip, i just shoved it in my mouth and bobbed my head against it. He groaned, a long, sexy, groan. he grabbed the back of my hair and started thrusting upwards, making me gagg. “What a fuck’n slutty brat, mm? Y’ enjoying this sweetheart? Who knew it was dick y’ needed to shut that pretty lil moutha yours, ah?” he thrusted deeper as he groaned louder, throwing his head back. Absentmindedly i began to unbutton my shorts and put my own hand working on my clit, making a muffled moan escape from my lips. this kept on going for a while, a small “Good girl” escaping Daryls lips as mascara filled tears were rolling down my face. “What a dirty fucking whore..” he groaned out.

“Fuck.. fuck.. fuck..” he grunted, i could tell how close he was, but he just pulled me away from his cock, lifting me up to him and kissed me, picking me up, spinning me round and putting me on the check out counter, he seen that my shorts were undone and groaned in response, finding pink lacy panties.. of course. he pulled them down alongside with my shorts and started licking my pussy, sucking and nibbling on my clit. I hesitantly moved my hands to his hair and pulled on it lightly, making him let out a quiet groan beneath me, he slid a finger inside me making me moan and my grip tighter on his hair, he let out a louder groan. it had to have been even better than music, and i cant even listen to it no more!

He kept flicking his tongue and added another digit, curling his fingers up, “Fuck I- keep going..!” I looked down and he was looking up at me with those lust eyes, thats all i needed and i came all over him. His fingers, his face, it was perfect. he kept going for me to ride out my orgasm, then pulled away, standing up and licking his fingers clean. then, he slowly pushed his cock deep into me, making a loud moan of ecstasy escape my lips. He felt so big inside, even bigger than how he felt in my mouth, tears fell down my face and he notice. “Y’ can take it girl, cmon, i ain’ even fully in yet.” he pushed more forward, his own structure collapsing slightly more and more then kissed me, it was actually pretty passionate. his lips were so… perfect, i could suffocate in them. “Yeah, is it even in yet?” he immediately looked at me, raised his eyebrow then slammed into me, thrusting roughly and spanked my ass, making a loud moan escape my lips, his hand snaking up to pull my hair, reminding me to keep quiet, the grip on my hips had to have been bruising. he was placing kisses and bites all round my tank top, it kept rolling back up so he ripped it off “I liked that shirt!” he grunted in response, “Sounds like y’ prefer ma cock tho, what a slut, even when getting ya’ pussy fucked y’ cant stop fuck’n talkin’, such a whore.” this made me let out a moan, in response he spanked me again.

Then he pulled out to sit me on the counter and spread my legs, putting one up to his shoulder, slamming right back ainto me, just as i was about to let out a high pitch moan, he put his hands next to my head, one on the left and one on the right, placing his lips on mine, shushing the moans i had and he went quicker with his thrusts, parting his own lips now and then to let out a groan before putting them right where they belong.. he then parted them again to let out a groan, i then sunk my teeth to around where this ‘X’ tattoo just above his collarbone was, the noise that escaped him was so.. attractive. as i stopped sucking on it and giving him probably a hickey, he jumped directly on my neck, planting his own hickeys peppered all round my neck, collarbone, and even some around my cleavage.

He continued going until I felt that knot in my stomach, felt like i was seeing stars “Go on, girl, i feel y’, good girl, cmon.” i rolled my eyes to the back of my head and suddenly, a wet noise came out, almost sounding like water coming out there. Even Daryl stopped and looked down in shock, “Damn, woman.. y’ a squirter..” he breathed out and I looked down, a small puddle of water underneath me, water droplets dripping down his thigh. I bit my lip and looked up at him. “I’m being genuine when i say this.. i didnt know i could do that.” he raised an eyebrow, surprised. “So much for not feelin’ it sweetheart, now y’ gonna do it again f’me.” he pushed fully back into me and grunted. “You’re so wet.” he winced and started thrusting.

He gained speed, if felt like i was about to finish all over again “Cmon just one more time..” and thats all i needed, it was like a waterfall to be honest, it felt amazing.. then like that, he came too, a groan escaping his lips for the final time before he collapsed on my chest, looking at me as i looked at him, both of us panting, breathlessly, he then pressed a kiss just filled with passion on my lips.

“Thought you hated me, Dixon.” he shook his head “Never have, js hated how pretty y’ were and how i always dreamt of y’ wrapped around my cock. Y’ came into my head almost every single night and i couldnt stand it.. the way you gave me that fuck’n attitude made me feel like you knew.” this made me chuckle abit , him looking at me as if he seen a ghost. “So you just wanted me wrapped round your cock then you might’ve started liking me?” he shook his head. “Y’ twisting my words, ive never not liked ya’. When y’ not talking to me and y’ talking to others y’ not bad. I know that i prolly ruined my chances and all-” i took his neck then pulled him in for a kiss. “Shut up and stop being silly, no chances were ruined. Now let’s get out of here- after i find a new shirt.” he laughed slightly and nodded, i went looking for a shirt that actually looked good, a pink jumper, sure, put it on then prepared to escape, some walkers were gone from the door, we let 2 in at a time till eventually it was fine to leave.

[maybefalsefacts]

The first time Logan saw Wade in drag, he thought someone broke into their apartment

Visually, Logan had no initial recognition.

Long blond hair. Big chest. Smooth skin. Tight dress. Tall boots. Long gloves.

Logan would have unsheathed his claws and tore the intruder to shreds for daring to invade his den.

Would have.

If not for those familiar baby blues staring out at him in shock and horror.

Logan knew those eyes. Knew them like he knew every star in the sky. Knew them like he could walk their apartment blindfolded and drunk.

Then he smelled the weird mix of makeup and hair products that came from the assortment of shoeboxes Wade kept on the top shelf of their closet.

Hanging up his jacket and toeing off his boots, Logan closed the door behind him. Stepping closer, he found the underlying scents of Wade's coconut body wash and the bitter smell of death that followed the merc everywhere.

Looking closer, Logan noticed the other details. Wade's waist. Wade's arms. Wade's thighs. Wade's fingers tapping irratically. Wade's breathing picking up.

Wade was frozen.

Logan was home early. Wade hadn't planned on getting caught. He hadn't wanted Logan to see.

Logan was... Confused. But, ever the supportive boyfriend, "You look nice. Going somewhere?"

As Wade buffered, Logan walked casually to the kitchen. He pulled a root beer (he was trying to cut back on real beer) from the fridge and snagged a piece of jerky from the fancy jar on the counter (it was too heavy for Puppins to move and she couldn't open it. Her dog treats were in the matching jar beside it).

Back in the living room, Logan got comfy in his recliner and raised an eyebrow at Wade.

Finally snapping out of it, he started messing with his dress and gloves. "Ummm... You're... Home early?"

Cracking open his root beer, "Yeah. Power outage in the shop. It won't be fixed till tomorrow, so they sent everybody home."

Wade nodded absently, looking anywhere but at Logan. "Makes sense."

Puppins lept up onto Logan's lap and he patted her absently. To Wade, he gently called, "Hey, you alright?"

Wade straightened, "What? Yeah! I'm great! I'm excellent. I'm-"

Sensing a long-winded ramble coming on, Logan cut him off, "Wade."

Wade flinched.

Logan waited.

When Wade's eyes finally found their way to his, Logan held out a hand.

Slowly, Wade stepped gracefully around the couch, heels clicking on the hard wood.

Pushing Puppins back to the floor and setting his drink aside, Logan gently pulled Wade down to sit on the arm of the chair. He put one arm around Wade's waist and the other brought those sexy black boots across his lap.

Though Wade came willingly, he chewed on his cherry-painted lips the whole time.

There were times when all Logan had to do was wait for Wade to talk. Let the other man ramble until he got to the real topic. This, clearly, was not one of those times.

Reaching up, Logan used his thumb to pull Wade's poor lip from between his teeth. Softly, "Do you want to tell me why you're getting all dressed up? Or just skip to me telling you that you didn't have to hide it?"

Wade's eyes met Logan's once more, full of disbelief and hope. "I... I know it's weird bu-"

Logan cut him off again, "No. Putting ketchup on your pancakes is weird. This is-"

"Disturbing? Disgusting? Gay? An insult to masculinity?"

Logan frowned, "I was going to say, this seems very important to you. Especially since you were so worried about my reaction that you didn't want me to know about it at all."

"Oh." Wade looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers. "Um..."

"Wade."

Wade flinched again.

"Does this make you happy?"

Wade continued to stare down at his hands. Eventually, he gave the smallest of nods.

Logan nodded too, like that settled the matter. Because it did.

"Well, then, go have fun. Go drink, or dance, or fuck around, or Femme Fatale, or whatever it is you do. And, when you come home, I'm going to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you smell mine again."

Wade blinked at him wide-eyed, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Logan was just... Letting him go? Sending him out? Like this? He wasn't disgusted? Or jealous? Or weirded out?

Completely overwhelmed by how amazing his boyfriend was, Wade leaned down and kissed Logan senseless.

[milykins]

Sunshine

This is based on an AU where the turtles eventually did decide to take Chief Vincent's advice and go public. This also ties into my headcanon where they all have jobs and own their own businesses. This particular scene was actually from an RP with the lovely @danceingfae it was just begging to be written.

Michelangelo × female reader

No warnings - just Mikey being a sweetheart when his girlfriend is feeling insecure.

Aged up characters of course

It’s no secret that ever since the turtles had decided to come out of hiding and join common society that Mikey had become something of a celebrity. He attended parties and charity events. Hosted his own events at his comic book shops and flirted and met up with girls from time to time. This was his lifestyle for a while. He’d initially thought it was the best thing ever. He got to have his fun, finally have the life he’d dreamed of, meeting girls, having relationships, one-night-stands, whatever he liked.

This all changed when he met you, of course. He’d had a couple failed relationships under his belt that hadn’t lasted long. One crazy girl had cornered him in his shop after hours, stripped off all her clothes, and begged him to put a baby in her. That was kind of the turning point where he realized that maybe being a celebrity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Meeting you and falling in love with you brought the realization that this was all he needed and all he’d ever wanted.

He still had fans, of course, still had girls coming up in restaurants and coffee shops asking for a picture and his autograph, but it had slowed down considerably after the internet had found out he was taken. Mikey hadn’t minded that at all. It gave him more space to breathe and more time to spend spoiling and loving on his girlfriend.

On this particular day he’d taken you to a Panera Bread. He knew you were craving their signature broccoli soup in a bread bowl combo and had decided to treat you to lunch.

The two of you had been chatting, and you had been just about to steal one of his muffin tops when a gaggle of teen and older girls rushed their table asking for their usual pictures and autographs. Mikey was happy to oblige but did tell them to make it quick because he was having lunch with his girl, sending a flirty wink your way.

You blushed, giggling softly. He always made a point of making you feel special in situations like these.

One girl in particular wasn’t satisfied with just a picture and an autograph. She’d been giving you the side-eye during the entire interaction and blatantly slipped him her number right in front of you.

Now, this did sometimes happen, but Mikey was always quick to rebuff it. As the girl turned to leave, he had gotten up from the table to follow her.

Initially, the girl looked pleased, but her expression quickly turned sour when she found he was handing it back to her.

Mikey was unendingly kind about it. “Hey, thanks, but I’ve already found someone who has my heart. Here’s your number. You should save it for the right guy for you.”

Her face reddened in embarrassment as she snatched the number from him. Anger bubbling into rage she decided to be nasty. “You’re kidding, right? That’s your girlfriend?”

The unkind words were heard by everyone, especially you. You shrank in your seat, wishing you could disappear and wanted to forget about eating altogether and run.

Your boyfriend is stunned a moment at the venomous words but he is ever the gentleman as he answers. “Yes, she is my girlfriend, and I’m very proud that she chooses to be with me. Have a good day.”

Tears were threatening to spill over when he came to collect you, taking you out of the restaurant for a breather. “I am so sorry…” He softly spoke as you both sat on a bench nearby.

The words still stung as you clung to his orange hoodie and buried your face in his chest. You couldn't help but cry softly into him, feeling ugly and stupid. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to counter this, and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were being rocked. Mikey was singing to you.

“You are my sunshine… my only sunshine…”

The soft singing broke you out of your reverie as you wiped your eyes while simultaneously craning your neck to look at him.

Mikey actually was pretty good at singing, his voice was smooth, melodic and comforting as he continued.

“You make me happy… when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

A shaky breath is exhaled as tears threatened to overtake you once again.

“You okay, babycakes?” He whispered, caressing your face.

You answered, “Yes…” but it doesn’t sound at all convincing and he knows it. You can see him quietly asking you to be honest with him and find yourself confessing how you really feel. “I was just… feeling like I’m not… not good enough…”

Mikey calmly tucks your hair behind your ears so he can see your face. “Tell me why you feel that way.”

You’re unable to stop these feelings of shame and insecurity as you get all choked up again. “Why me? You… you could have anyone you want… but you chose me, why?”

His response is automatic like he’d been waiting for you to ask him this.

“Babe… you’re not just anyone. You’re mine. You’re all I want, and I think about you, like, all the time. Any other girl pales in comparison to you. Heck, they could be a playboy pinup, and I still would pick you. You are all I need.”

You can’t help but giggle as more tears spring to your eyes, the good kind this time and you have to kiss him because if you don’t in this moment, you’ll feel like you regret it.

The kiss is slow, sweet and passionate and you parted breathlessly, gazing at each other.

“I love you…” The confession catches him by surprise because neither of you had been the first to say it… until now.

Now, it’s Mikey’s turn to feel emotional. His voice is quiet and a little unsure as he asks for confirmation. “You love me?”

“Yes.” You answered without hesitation. “I love you, Michelangelo.”

Strong arms banded around you as he kissed you with even more fervor, before pulling back just as suddenly. “I love you too!” He’d been so caught up with kissing you that he’d forgotten to say it back.

You giggled and kissed his beak. “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way, all it took was… a crazy fan.” She can’t help but laugh.

He laughed, too. “Just know, babe, that I’m proud to be with you, I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I have to… want me to? I’ll do it right now!” his smile and enthusiasm are infectious, and you are giggling as you shake your head.

“This is enough, I’m just glad you’re with me.” You had just snuggled into his embrace again when your stomach growled, reminding you both you still hadn’t eaten.

Mikey kissed your nose and stood, bringing you to your feet. “Let’s finish our lunch, babe.”

“That sounds perfect.”

From that moment on, nothing could shake your confidence in your relationship with Mikey. Nothing. He was there to stay, and so were you.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28 @definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon

[cutestbow]

Summary: y/n has to tell Jack the truth, (based off of the song futile devices)

Notes: I’m finally back!!, also very unedited so please excuse any mistakes!!

Warnings: self hatred, guilt, basically leading someone on. And that should be it if not let me know!!!

It’s been a long long time since I’ve memorized your face.

Laughter echoed throughout the dimly lit apartment i had been in for the last 4 hours, i had told myself id go home twenty minutes ago but that never ends well when im with my friends

“So y/n hows jack going” my friend asked, the question gaining attention from the others as if they had been wondering also.

“Oh, its going well he’s a really good guy.” I shrugged smiling at the though of the brown haired boy.

“Thats it?, your not going to give us any special details about him” she groaned to my vague response.

“Yea likes he doesn’t have a beauty mark on his left cheek-“ another one had chimed in

“No his upper right lip.” I blurted out embarrassingly fast.

All chatter had stopped in that moment, the only noise being the tv that had been faintly playing in the background.

My face burned red from my sudden comment, if my friend no cited she hadn’t said anything about, she just smirked and took a drink from the glass that had been sitting in front of her.

“Well at least Christian’s out of the picture.” She stated once more before diving into conversation with one of the girls sat at the table.

I nodded but it didn’t feel right almost as if it weren’t genuine.

It’s been four hours now since I’ve wandered through your place

Jack had left his apartment hours ago but i still remained after hours of him begging i stay and just watch the game from his house, so that’s where i had been left at now

Walking through the halls of his somewhat clean apartment, for someone who lives by themselves he really did try to keep some type of theme going.

I laughed at a photo he had kept near his bed of him and his brother when they were younger, it was a photo of when they lived in Canada the setting being somewhere snowy and the three brothers looking confused and unready for the photo.

I sat the photo back down and looked over at the clock that had also been on the side of his bed, i sighed walking out of the room and back to the couch to watch the puck drop.

And when i sleep on your couch i feel very safe, and when you bring the blankets, i cover up my face

It was normal for me and jack to have our annual movie nights on friday, and work had kicked my butt the following week and I hadn’t planned on going this Friday but i knew jack had been looking forwards to it stating that he found a new movie that we might like so I couldn’t decline.

We had been laying on the couch, my head on his shoulder and eyes slowing opening and closing once and a while, i quickly snapped out of that stare once the arms that had once been wrapped around me were gone.

“Where are you going?” I asked as jack got up from his spot on the couch.

He didnt reply and disappeared into his bedroom, i had went to get up before he reappeared again, this time with a large comforter.

I sighed with embarrassment and guilt, “jack im fine.” I said

“No your not, you’ve had a busy week, if you were tired you could have stayed home” he responded, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

He layed me back into the couch carefully wrapping the computer around my tired body.

The droopy state from before slowly coming back

I shouldn’t be doing this

I shouldn’t be doing this

I let out one last sigh before I closed my eyes.

And i would say i love you but saying it out loud is hard. So I won’t say it at all.

It had been a beautiful day, and usually on days like these Jack would tend to drag me out of my apartment to go on a picnic.

I carefully set a blanket down over the patch of grass we thought would be perfect spot to settle, I watched as he set the basket down and very carefully pulled each container of fruit and crackers out.

Jack had always been easy to talk too I never had to filter myself around him, but I didn’t deserve a person like him.

I watched him as layed propped up on one shoulder talking about anything and everything, slowly biting into my cherry. I paused for a moment before rubbing the bitten cherry against his cheek leaving a pink stain.

I laughed at his reaction going to wipe it away before quickly getting pulled down and the previous cherry being rubbed on my face now

I laughed attempting to push him away but it was no use he was stronger.

“Now were Even.” He spoke, smiling down at me.

we stared at each other for moments, three words I died to say lingered at the tip of my tongue but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to him.

And I won’t stay very long,

Tears rolled down my face as I found myself in-front of a door I’ve been faced with for months now, my heart banging against my chest.

I waited for a moment before the door swung open to a half awake Jack, his eyebrows furrowed in worry at my distressed state.

“y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked softly pulling me into his apartment, I pulled away slowly.

“I’m sorry jack” I cried lowering my head

“You’re so good to me, but I just can’t seem to-“ I sobbed uncontrollably unsure if he could even understand me.

“I know.” He responded softly. My head shot up realization and guilt washing over me.

He knew the entire time, but why?, the question repeating over and over in my head.

“I’m so sorry jack” I cried, the sobs becoming more violent as he pulled me into an embrace.

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head

“I just can’t see how I’m supposed to love if I can’t love myself.” I spoke once my cries softened.

“I want to love you,” I said pulling away, watching as tears threatened to spill from his eyes

“But I just can’t” I finished, attempting to wipe the spilling tears away.

He nodded in agreement giving me an understanding smile

“It’s ok” he reassured me as if I wasn’t breaking his heart.

“I understand if you’re mad or annoyed with me I don’t know why I’m like this” I spoke lowly, the lump in my throat making my words shaky.

Jack embraced me once more, this time hushing me

“If you knew why did you stay, why did waste your time if you knew you’d get hurt in the end.” i questioned

He sighed, “because the thought of not having you at all hurt to much.”

But you are the life I needed all along.

I smiled as me and a group of my friends stumbled into a bar we had been dying to go to for the past month.

the smell of alcohol and burnt out cigarettes washing over me in a second.

I watched as a few of the members separated going there own ways, leaving me a one ther girl.

We had decided to settle at the little bar ordering two beers for night.

I grabbed the cup swiftly taking a sip before setting it back down onto the table. I skimmed over the bar watching as people danced and played pool.

My heart immediately skipped a beat once I was met with a familiar pair of blue eyes that had been staring at me from across the bar.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Jack in a year. Or really since that one night in his apartment. I would say we ended on good terms.

My face burned red as he waved at me with a soft smile.

I waved back, nervously smiling. I watched as he began to mouth something.

“You look beautiful” he mouthed slowly

“I feel beautiful” I excitedly mouthed.

He laughed at my response from across the bar.

“Good” he nodded.

[gxr25256]

The Doorless Cage - Seekers x reader (2)

🌵 Tranformers (Post-Apocalyptic AU).

🌵 The Decepticons have conquered Earth, leaving humanity in ruins.

🌵I'll try this for a bit. Remember: I'm not very good at it 👀.

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

Skywarp had always found patrols to be mind-numbingly dull. The ruined city sprawled out before him, a desolate wasteland devoid of life—exactly as they wanted it. They’d swept through this place more times than he could count, tearing down every last sign of resistance, yet still, Megatron insisted they make rounds, “in case anything survived.”

But Skywarp knew better. The humans were all but extinct, their brief, flickering rebellion snuffed out, leaving him, Thundercracker, and Starscream wandering empty streets with only the wind and rubble for company. Thundercracker trudged along somewhere behind him, too lost in thought to complain as he usually did. And Starscream was further ahead, stalking through the ruins with his optics cold and sharp.

Skywarp sighed, glancing down a dark alley, then at a broken tower across the street. His teleportation circuits hummed with potential energy, itching to be used for anything other than walking these streets. Part of him wanted to zap right back to base and tell Thundercracker and Starscream he’d “scouted” the rest of the city, but he knew that would only bring more boredom. And, of course, Starscream would berate him for leaving his post, and Skywarp wasn’t in the mood for another lecture from his second-in-command.

Then, he heard it—a faint, barely-there sound, muffled and distant, but unmistakable.

Human.

It was like catching the scent of prey on the wind, and for a moment, Skywarp’s optics brightened with excitement. He slowed his steps, creeping closer to the sound’s source—a half-fallen building just across the street. A grin spread across his face, and his boredom evaporated. Maybe there was a human left to torment after all. With a bit of luck, he could finally have some fun.

Skywarp stopped just outside the building, letting his heavy footsteps echo against the cracked walls, then pausing as if he were about to enter. He listened for any reaction from inside, and sure enough, he heard a frantic rustling, followed by absolute silence. They knew he was there, and they were hiding.

Perfect.

With exaggerated slowness, he moved a few steps forward, then stopped again, allowing the suspense to build. He could only imagine the terror that must be coursing through the human’s veins, the way they’d be shrinking into the shadows, praying he wouldn’t find them.

But Skywarp was done playing subtle.

With a resounding clang, he struck the wall, letting his servo drive through the structure and tear the roof off with a violent pull. Dust and debris flew into the air, and Skywarp’s optics zeroed in on the small figure crouched below, eyes wide with terror. The human screamed, and he grinned, reveling in the sound.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his optics gleaming. He reached down, massive fingers wrapped around the human body with brutal force. He lifted them off the ground, letting them wriggle in his grip as he gave them a rough squeeze, just enough to remind them of their fragility.

The human stilled, frozen in fear, and Skywarp chuckled, drawing them closer until they were at optic level.

“Looks like someone’s been playing hide-and-seek,” he sneered. “Too bad for you—I always win, mouse."

Skywarp’s optic gleamed with cruel delight as he brought the tiny human up to his face, studying them with the kind of mocking curiosity one might show an insect caught in a jar. His grip was loose but deliberate, giving them enough room to wriggle and squirm, knowing that any attempt to break free was hopeless.

He tilted his hand back, causing the human to slip toward the edge of his fingers, a startled gasp escaping them as they scrambled to find a hold. Just as they were about to slip, he flattened his palm, catching them with a satisfied chuckle.

“Aw, did you think you’d fall?” he sneered, lifting them to eye level. He twisted his wrist so they dangled precariously, just far enough from his fingers that they’d have to struggle to keep their balance. The sheer terror in their eyes only amused him further, and he leaned in close, his voice a low, mocking whisper.

“Oh, don’t look so scared. I won't drop you......at least not now." He loosened his grip again, watching with twisted glee as they gripped his metal fingers in desperation, their breaths coming fast and shallow.

Skywarp found himself thoroughly entertained by the way they trembled, the faint spark of defiance in their eyes already waning as he continued his taunts. He nudged them with his thumb, pressing them back against his palm, ignoring their gasp of pain as he applied a bit more pressure.

As he toyed with his new prize, he heard familiar footsteps approaching from behind. He glanced over his shoulder, just as Starscream and Thundercracker appeared around the corner.

“What are you doing, Skywarp?” Starscream’s voice was dripping with annoyance as he stalked up to them. His red optics narrowed, taking in the sight of the human in Skywarp’s grip. “I thought we were on patrol, not indulging your ridiculous whims.”

Skywarp merely smirked, holding up the human for them to see. “Oh, lighten up, Starscream. Look what I found—a little survivor. Thought we’d gotten rid of all of them, but I guess there’s still a few stragglers.”

Starscream’s gaze shifted to the trembling human,his face wrinkled. He lifted his arm, aiming his null ray at them. “Then let’s finish the job. I don’t have time for your games.”

Skywarp rolled his optics, drawing the human back just out of range of Starscream’s weapon. “Where’s the fun in that? The city’s already dead, so what’s one little human running around? Think of it as entertainment. It’ll give us something to do.”

Starscream scoffed, crossing his arms. “An amusement? It’s a disgusting organic.”

Skywarp shrugged, his grip tightening on the human to keep them still. “Maybe, but it's better than walking around looking for nothing. Besides, it’s got a decent scream.”

Thundercracker sighed, casting a skeptical glance at the human. “Megatron’s not gonna be happy if he finds out we’re keeping a pet. Besides, I thought you hated organics.”

“Eh, this one’s different,” Skywarp glancing back at the human, who was clinging to his fingers, staring at him with a mixture of horror and disbelief. “I mean, look at them. They’re pathetic. If they try anything, I can just…squeeze.” He gave the human a light, taunting squeeze, chuckling as their face paled.

“Besides, if they become a problem, we can always crush them later. But for now, let’s see if they can last. It’ll be like…a game.” Skywarp added, a gleam of mischief in his optics.

Thundercracker’s optics narrowed, clearly unimpressed by Skywarp’s twisted idea of amusement. “A game?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re playing with scraps from a dead world.” His voice held a hint of disdain, but under it lay a reluctant curiosity. “It’s just going to run, hide, and scream.”

Skywarp shrugged, still grinning as he dangled the human, watching them squirm. “Exactly! That’s what makes it fun, Thundercracker. It’s like… a pet with spirit,” he taunted, giving the human another playful shake. “Or at least, until they break. They’ve got nothing left to lose, right?” He tilted his head, eyeing the human’s wide, terrified eyes with twisted fascination. “Why not see how long they’ll last?”

Starscream rolled his optics. “Skywarp, if you’re this bored, maybe I should assign you extra patrols.” He sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm

"Hey!"

“But since you insist on this ridiculous game, I suppose it could be… mildly interesting to see just how long this one lasts.” He shot a disdainful look at the human. “Seeing it fall apart was quite a sight to behold.”

Thundercracker snorted “Since when did you get interested in playing with organic matter?” he muttered, though he didn’t move to stop Skywarp. “They’re just a reminder of what this place used to be—a waste.”

Starscream huffed, optics narrowing as he scoffed at Thundercracker's objections. "Shut up! I never did." He replied. In a moment of consideration, he spoke up. "And is that a waste? Think of it as… a way to pass the time. After all, the planet’s dead. Might as well use the leftovers.”

Thundercracker sighed, looking away. “Fine, but don’t expect me to take part in this.” But there was still a glimmer of curiosity in his optics—if unwilling to admit it—to see how long this human might survive under their “care.”

Skywarp chuckled, clearly pleased with his trinemates’ grudging acceptance. “See? It’ll be good for morale.” He leaned closer to the human, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “Congratulations—you get to stay alive… for now. Better keep us entertained, though, or we’ll get bored.”

“Let’s go,” Starscream ordered, turning to walk ahead. “If we linger, Megatron will think we’re slacking off.”

As the three Seekers turned to leave, the human still firmly in Skywarp’s grip, Starscream’s voice cut through the quiet. “Remember, Skywarp: this is your little ‘pet.’ If they become a nuisance, it’s on you to clean up the mess.” But his smirk revealed that he, too, was already looking forward to the twisted amusement their new “pet” might bring.

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

Skywarp is fun, right?

"I can just…squeeze." 🤫

[redgoldsparks]

October Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Pageboy by Elliot Page

This has been on my to-read list ever since it came out, and I finally picked it up. This book is an honest, sometimes painfully honest, accounting of Elliot Page's life up until his decision to come out as trans. He grew up in Canada, the child of divorced parents, with a hostile step-mother, an emotionally manipulative father, and overworked mother who initially did not accept his queerness. He started acting in elementary school and found it a freeing creative outlet, even when he hated the overly-girly clothing the roles often forced him into. Like many people who start in the film industry very young, he was taken advantage of sexually by adults who should have kept him safe. These experiences are written about less graphically than the blistering gender dysphoria and numbing disassociation that followed Elliot from his teens into his twenties. He threw himself into movie projects and love affairs, running away from a secret that nearly ate him alive. I'm so grateful that was eventually able to come out, because it really sounds like staying in the closet might have killed him. This book is not written chronologically; chapters center on themes, projects, or relationships. I understand that choice while also wishing that more of then teen chapters had been placed earlier in the book- sometimes the way the book kept slipping backwards in time felt a time bit repetitive. But it also felt honest to the experience of someone who kept backsliding in his ability to be honest with himself, until hitting the rock bottom of mental health, when there was no other choice but to be true.

Woe: A Housecat's Story of Despair by Lucy Knisley

Given the square format, I thought this was going to be a picture book but when it arrived from the library it was a full color 200 page collection of all the instagram comics author Lucy Knisley ever drew about her much loved fluffy orange cat, Linney. These comics are deeply relatable for any cat owner. I'd read pretty much all of them online before but I enjoyed seeing them all again in this collection.

The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold read by Lloyd James

Cazaril was once the son of a noble family, entrusted with defending a strategically important castle during one of Chalion's many wars. Then the castle was sold to the enemy, and Caz was not ransomed, but instead forced to serve as a galley slave on an enemy ship. Finally free, he walked across two countries to reach a town where he worked in his youth, and enters the stronghold wearing clothes he took off a corpse. All he wants is a lowly position, maybe in the kitchen or the stables, where he can earn a bit of bread and sleep warm at night. Instead, he is given the position of tutor to the Royesse Iselle, half-sister of the current king of Chalion. He begins the work of teaching her multiple languages, history, geography, politics, and how to tell when a man is lying to her. All of these skills and more are needed when she and her brother, the heir to Chalion's thrown, are called to court. Cazaril is required to travel with them, even though he knows that the man who betrayed him serves there as the king's high chancellor. And worse yet, he discovers that the whole royal family is under a generations-long curse. This was my second read of this book, the first one being back in 2008 so I remembered almost nothing. It's a clever and well constructed fantasy, with the twists and turns I expect and love from a Lois McMaster Bujold novel. This time around, the age gap romance (between a 20 year old and a 35 year old) made me raise my eyebrows. It fits thematically into the story but also, why.

The Ribbon Skirt by Cameron Mukwa

This is a gentle queer comic for younger readers. Ten year old Anang decides they want to make a ribbon skirt to wear to an upcoming powwow. A ribbon skirt is a piece of celebratory clothing typically worn by Anishinaabe women, and Anang isn't entirely sure what their friends or community will think about them wearing one. But the spirit world encourages Anang. The lakes, the crows, turtles, waves, and trees participate in helping Anang gather all of the supplies they need, despite some light resistance from other characters in the story. Short and sweet, this is lovely introduction to two-spirit and nonbinary identities for a kid who hasn't heard of them yet, and an affirming story for a young person who already inhabits a gender-nonconforming space!

Tokyo These Days vol 2 by Taiyo Matsumoto

Shiozawa continues to attempt to build a collection of artists for a new manga magazine. He visits old friends, writers whose talent he's loved for years. Some of them have retired from the business. Some are busier than ever. Some love the direction their work has gone since Shiozawa last saw them; others believe their work has become soulless and commercial. I love how the authors are portrayed as unique, flawed humans with human histories. They have families, disabilities, insecurities, dreams. We meet Chosaku's ex-wife and daughter on a weekend visit. Hayashi continues to struggle with her main artist, Aoki, who struggles with insomnia and flees back to his hometown. Creating manga is depicted as half a calling, half an affliction.

Death At Morning House by Maureen Johnson, read by Katherine Littrell 

This is more of a 3.5 or 3.75 but rounded up because it was queer and out of my extreme affection for Maureen Johnson's murder mysteries. This one introduces a new character, Marlowe, who gets into a spot of trouble with some accidental arson while on a date with the girl of her dreams, and then runs away to an absurd summer job on one of the thousand islands on the St Lawrence River. Marlowe joins a group of five other teens who already all know each other to serve as a tour guide for Morning House, the mansion of a rich doctor and eugenicist who summered with his seven children on the island in the 1920s- that is, until two of them died there. And the island has seen another death, more recently. Marlowe didn't show up to solve crimes, but if she wants to make it home at the end of the summer, she'll have to. Similar in tone to the Truly Devious series, this book was a very easy and fun listen. I wish the eugenics thread had either been cut, or better developed, but Marlowe is a delightful character to follow and if this book gets a sequel I will definitely listen to it.

If You’ll Have Me by Eunnie 

This is an extremely sweet and delightfully illustrated sapphic romance, which only partly hinges on a misunderstanding as the main conflict. Momo is a shy college freshman, a rule follower, a hard worker who didn't date or party at all in high school. She runs into PG, seemingly mid-hookup with a friend of a friend who claimed to be too sick to come to class. After that first encounter, Momo seems to see PG everywhere, and each time with a different girl. Clearly, PG is a player and also in a completely different league than Momo. Except, when a cautious new friendship begins to develop between them, PG seems unfailing chivalrous and polite. Which is the real PG? And how much trouble will Momo get into if she lets her feelings become something more? I really enjoyed the bright color palette and confident line art.

Tokyo These Days vol 3 by Taiyo Matsumoto

I appreciated so deeply how this series represented artists wrestling with their creative practices. Some draw steadily for years, with a similar quality level of work. Others struggle with writers block, family tragedies, self esteem, rough deadlines, with falling out of love with their stories, or their editors, or the time commitment of being a full time author. This series also shows how a patient and support editor can absolutely made an artists career- or how the lack of one can destroy it. This is such a human slice-of-life story, and I liked its open but hopeful ending.

Gay the Pray Away written and read by Natalie Naudus 

Seventeen year old Valerie wishes she could pick up any book at the library without fear, wishes she could pick her own clothes, wishes she was allowed to hang out unsupervised with friends, watch movies, or just spend time on the internet. But her family is part of a very extreme Christian community which home schools their children, limits the media they are allowed to access, controls their movement, wardrobes, and social lives. Valerie is expected to join family Bible studies daily, volunteer at the Church, and marry a boy in the community shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She isn't excited about any of this- in fact, she spends much of her time daydreaming or bored nearly to tears- but what else can she do? Then she finds a queer book with a fairly nondescript cover at the library. And a new girl- a girl with short hair, a girl who wears jeans- joins the Church. Valerie is captivated. The new girl represents a window into freedom and Valerie wants as much of that freedom as she can hold. I have some critiques about how this book ended, but I'm also very aware that I am not part of its target audience. Hopefully this book will find its way into the hands of teens who need it.

Gender Studies by Ajuan Mance

A slim but insightful collection of memoir comics on the intersecting identities of being Black, queer, gender nonconforming, and a nerd. These stories are thought provoking, funny, and delightful well drawn.

Clever Girl: Jurassic Park by Hannah McGregor

McGregor turns the film Jurassic Park over in their hands, like a piece of amber, to examine it from all sides and finds a story packed with possibilities of liberatory, queer, and feminist readings. From thoughts on the monstrous feminine, reproductive control, missing mothers, and found family, this text weaves together a rich tapestry of threads. I completely understand now why this film (which I half-watched once at a distracting party, but now want to revisit) has becomes such an enduring classic. The ending note advocates for the building of networks of mutual aid and care during and after apocalypse, something I need more and more desperately in this damaged world.

House of Women by Sophie Goldstein 

Four women arrive on a jungle planet via spaceship with a mission to create a school and educate/ tame the indigenous species of beings there. Like most colonizers, they think they are doing something good by bringing the light of civilization into the supposed darkness of the wilderness. Like most colonizers, they completely fail to understand the people they have come in contact with the project ends in devastating violence. The art in this book is extremely elegant, with powerful black and white design and pattern work illustrating a believable alien world. If you've ever read The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, this is story has some similarities in tone and theme but much shorter and more condensed, as necessitated by the comics format. It's not a hopeful or kind story, but I thought it was executed extremely well.

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. read by Ashraf Shirazi 

Lamya H weaves together memoir with stories from the Quran, introspection on prophets, myths, histories, and alternate readings, into a compelling whole. As a gender-nonconforming baby queer, Lamya struggled under the oppressive roles and limited options available to them in the Arab speaking country to which their parents moved for work in their childhood. But a lightning strike of realization in a Quran study class- that Maryam could also be read as a depressed lesbian- fed Lamya's imagination with new possibility. Lamya moved to the United States for college and grad school, navigating new friendships with other liberal Muslims and new prejudices against brown bodies, especially bodies wearing hijab. One compelling chapter outlines the nightmare of bureaucratic hoops that need to be jumped through to renew student and work visas; the author compares choosing to stay in the US to staying in an abusive relationship. But Lamya fell for New York City, and for the family, chosen, queer, and blood, that they collected over the years. I really appreciated this book for offering a perspective I'd never read before, and for its fierce insistence that one can absolutely be both Muslim and queer.

Vivian’s Ghost by Hal Schrieve

Holy shit, this comic. I fell head-first into this 350 page scratchy black and white comic and read it all in one wild evening. The story follows a set of very messy trans people, several literally haunted by a violent ghost from their pasts. Collin, Vivian, and Andrew orbited each other as awkward, horny trans teenagers, trying to define the edges of their own identities through sex, alcohol, long tumblr posts, and Rocky Horror shows, mostly without supportive parents. Vivian died at 17. At 26, Collin in a cam boy and weed delivery guy in NYC during the early days of the pandemic; Andrew has de-transitioned, married a man, is trying to get pregnant and has sold quotes to an anti-trans journalist writing opinion pieces about the dangers of minors transitioning. Multiple times while reading this I found myself thinking "a cis person could never have written this;" its so deeply steeped in trans longings, fears, desires, neuroses, rage, yearnings, and hope. It's not an easy or safe story; it doesn't have a fully happy ending. But I consumed it and it consumed me in return. If you are struggling to find this book available in print, it is possible to read the whole story on the author's instagram page.

Breathe: Journeys to Healthy Binding by Maia Kobabe and Sarah Peitzmeier read by Sarah Peitzmeier, Kieran Todd, Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek

I finally sat down to listen to the audiobook, which was narrated primarily by my co-author Sarah Peitzmeier along with her research partner Kieran Todd, and the wonderful cast of Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek. It was such a pleasure to hear these characters' voices come to life, and see how the workbook and stretching exercise pages were handled! Obviously I am very proud of the print edition which contains my illustrations; but I am so happy that the audiobook exists as well, for anyone who prefers audio (or likes to take in audio and print side by side).

Kochab by Sarah Webb

One day when out skiing, Sonya's scarf is stolen by a flying snow spirit. She chases it deep into the forest and breaks a ski after a reckless jump. Lost without supplies in the dead of winter, Sonya follows the faint trail of light and finds an impossible palace inhabited by one sleeping fire spirit, Kyra. Kyra's home was once bright, full of life and community. Now it is derelict and crumbling, under attack by the forces of ice. This is a slim story, fairy tale-like. I wanted a little more from the plot, given the book's length; but the pages are stunning. Everything from the character movement, background designs, color choices, to dynamic panel layouts impressed me. I know I'll be looking through this book again in the future when I need some visual inspiration.

Buckle Up by Lawrence Lindell

Lonnie's parents are recently divorced, and he's still getting used to splitting time between two different houses- one with his mom and older sister, one with his dad. He's still getting used to being picked up by alternating parents from school, and he's trying to hide these facts from his friends. This short, tender story uses the framing device of these car rides to show Lonnie facing some weighty conversations with his parents. The majority of the book takes place in the car and I really loved seeing how Lonnie learned to speak up for himself, to work through problems, and verbalize his emotions. Highly recommend for elementary school readers, especially ones experiencing big feelings.

How It All Ends by Emma Hunsinger 

Tara was "accelerated" from seventh grade straight into high school at the advice of some of her teachers, but in the first few weeks of school she feels deeply unready. The school is so big, the schedule confusing, the hallways packed, and her end-of-day English class is full of some of the rowdiest, rudest boys she's ever met. Tara would much rather stay at home playing pretend with her baby brother or go back to middle school and take the eighth grade trip to Six Flags that she had to miss. Even with her older sister, already in tenth grade, willing to lend a hand by drawing her school maps, showing her the dating reality TV show everyone is talking about, and taking her to hangouts in the park, Tara is struggling. But there's this girl. A smart, funny, interesting girl, who partners up with Tara for English assignments and laughs at her jokes. Meeting this girl might just be the one thing that makes high school worth it. I had such a fun time with this comic- it's full of whimsical daydream sequences that really show Tara's internal world. I highly recommend this, especially to anyone who felt (or feels) unready to leave childhood and enter teenagerdom.

[allmyhomieshatelawns]

Heyo I was seized by plot bunnies, so have a little DCXDP! Note, this IS heavily inspired by @phantomfen 's ao3 work https://archiveofourown.org/works/57152017

I highly recommend reading that, but this isn't connected, just inspired. This snippet is also inspired by the song "The Tale of The Shadow" by Sail North. I hope you enjoy!

This is Dead on Main because they're my favorite~

The Shadow:

The wooden boards groaned underneath my weight, as I paced in front of the boat I had purchased. I had finally done it. Bruce wasn't going to be happy, but when was he ever happy with what I did? I shook my head, straightening up as I heard several pairs of booted feet. Turning, I saw a gaggle of hardened sailors making their way down the docks towards me.

My own boat bobbed happily in the water next to me. It was smaller than anything that would normally carry cargo. I just hoped we weren't seen as a new rival pirate company. Bruce already dealt with the majority of them, but they always kept breaking out of jail and reclaiming their territory. The idea to claim it for myself was tempting, but that could come after I had found my prize.

For as long as I could remember, Alfred had put me to bed with a variety of stories. Above and beyond my favorite, besides anything set in the regency era, was the tale of The Shadow. A spectral ship, empty of any Captain or crew, but supposedly full of treasure, waiting for the right Captain to claim her. The only person said to be on the ship was some deck boy strung up to be thrown overboard. It wasn't known what the boy could have done to earn eternity on a damned ship, but I hoped I wouldn't find out.

Alfred couldn't tell me where the treasure had come from, but he did tell me of the many times someone tried to claim The Shadow for themselves, but each time, something would go wrong. The weather would turn, the crew would mutiny, a kraken would come and swallow their ship, the ship would come alive and kill the crew, the story would change but stay the same. No one was able to claim her.

The very idea sent me swooning. Tim and Dick both told me not to bother trying to look. Damian thought I was an idiot for believing the ship existed at all. With our nighttime activities of defending Gotham from gangs, pirates, and worse, I didn't know where they got the audacity to be such blatant hypocrites. If someone like Deadman could exist, then so too could The Shadow.

"Ready to go, Captain Jason?" A man I had hired on as First Mate stepped up beside me, a grin twisting his rugged features. He was unshaven, wearing sturdy clothing meant for hard labor. His hair was short and rusty brown, his eyes were a dull green, watering a bit. He slouched, turning to glance back at the men as they loaded themselves on, and began the process of getting the ship ready to sail.

My grin was sharper than his, and I hopped across the gap, landing on the top deck of the ship. Turning back to him, I gestured the man to follow. We toured the ship, and I made sure everything was flowing as it should. I had made sure to do my research on how ships ran, especially old ones, since the legend of The Shadow was as old as seafaring itself, maybe older. I knew how to sail a modern ship as well as, as many of the older versions of ships as I could sink my teeth into. I was ass at canoe, though I had no idea why. Kayaking was fine, and so was a little speed boat, but not a canoe. I kept getting flipped.

…

We cast out to sea, radio on and scanning for any unusual traffic. We were equipped to fish, and that's technically what we would be doing the most of. There was no telling how long it would take to find The Shadow, but I had made a map of where it had been sighted, color-coded by decade. We would find that ship, and I would… I would shove it in Bruce's face to stop doubting me. I would have finally proven myself to him, and he wouldn't have any choice but to pay attention!

Weeks passed, slowly sailing to each spot The Shadow had been spotted. We would occasionally put to port to speak with the ones whom had made the report. The crew was a little irritated with how long that method would take, so currently we were sailing out for our next destination, a series of sightings in the middle of the Atlantic.

"Captain! A storm's on the horizon!" One of the crew called from the crow's nest, sounding really worried.

"Size of the clouds?" I called back, already striding to the back deck to pull out my spyglass and get a better look. We had yet to see a storm yet, but it was sometimes said The Shadow would use them to travel, seemingly popping up once the storm passed and scaring the shit out of people.

"Too big! This storm'll tear us apart!" He called back, the nervous strings of his voice ringing out and alerting the rest of the crew that something wasn't right.

"Captain?" First Mate stepped up, hand reaching out for the spyglass. I handed it over easily, watching him as he held it up to his eye and looked through carefully. Pulling the lens from his eye, he glanced at me, giving a sharp nod.

"This is the best sign we've gotten so far." He announced, getting cheers from the crew. Shouldn't I be the one making that kind of announcement? Oh well. "With any luck, The Shadow is amongst those clouds! The treasure is close!"

The crew crowed in excitement, pumping their fists in the air. I dismissed them back to work, not liking some of the looks they would throw me when they thought I wouldn't notice. This crew wasn't my best idea, but it was almost over, I could almost taste the treasure on the air. We would split our shares, and be on our way.

…

Ocean spray blew into the air, flung across achingly familiar wooden planks. I glided across the damp wood, watching the ocean thrown around by my storm. The Shadow slipped across the water, my awareness brushing across something new. The souls wrapped around my throat like pearls shuddered at the foreign feeling, their rest disturbed. Interest piqued my mind however, the beauty of the ocean was unending, but then, so was the loneliness.

It had been a while since someone and tried to take what wasn't their's. My treasure had been safe for generations at this point. It had been so long, I thought the last person to know of my existence had finally died. I shouldn't have been so hopeful though, humans are too tenacious. They think they can just come aboard my ship, and hurt my charges. Maybe this can be the last time I have to defend. Maybe I can leave them with a lesson so harsh, no one else comes looking for me and mine. Maybe I could even keep a few of them for myself.

The wind I had been using to propel myself forward, ceased. I watched, flitting between portholes, flickering behind rigging, swarming the sails, as a boat drew closer. It teemed with people. They so badly wish to join my collection. I fingered my pearls, body clacking whenever I moved. The strings dangled across the ground, creating an eerie symphony.

Orders were shouted across the deck of the nearing ship. One voice stuck out from the rest. A young man with black hair stood at the helm, calling orders. A wild grin was on his face. Despite the distance I could see every detail. This young man looked as if he had found the thing he had been searching his entire life for. The way that emotion lit up his face was almost enough to make me blush.

This young man wanted me this badly? No one had come to purposefully seek me out in so long. Where maybe my heart was at one point, fluttered with emotion. Maybe this one. Maybe I could keep this one.

The boat was now close enough for them to clearly see my deck. Silence reigned as they all stared. Activity exploded, the Captain bursting forward. He stared at The Shadow, my ship, eyes sparkling and wide, his mouth hung open and everything. Tears sparked in the corners of his eyes, and he scrubbed them away quickly.

"This is it boys!" The Captain called, grabbing a rope and swinging over to me. His feet thunked on the wood, the first step made on this ship since…

Thunder filled the air as every boot landed on the deck. I flinched, hiding beneath the deck and staring up at them from between the floorboards. It had been so long since the souls around me were in a body. I fingered my string of pearls, the sound of the clattering drawing the attention of several of the sailors. They crossed themselves, glancing around nervously. I had to stifle a giggle. They had sealed their fate by coming after my charges, no amount of prayer could save them now.

My attention moved to the Captain, appearing in his shadow, watching him.

"At last… I've heard more stories about this magnificent beast than I can remember. The captaincy is within my grasp. It's right here." He murmured to himself, inspecting different areas of The Shadow. He opened doors, peaking in at empty rooms, followed closely by a few members of the crew. One of them had a knife in his hand, unsheathed, like he was going to kill the captain.

I frowned at the idea. That wouldn't be ideal. I could speak to a soul I had collected sure, but it was much easier if they had a body to move with. I tossed my head in exasperation, holding back a giggle as more of the vile sailors crossed themselves at the rattling clack that accompanied my every motion.

Pearls dripped down my body, strung across like a tight net. Each pearl was a soul I had collected on the seven seas. I kept them safe from those who might wish them harm. Here, with me, they could sail until time expired, feeling nothing but joy at the freedom bestowed to them. Being able to wander the earth, one with the oceans they had so loved? What more could a sailor want? They felt no hunger, no thirst, nor heat nor cold. I would take them around the world, even beneath the waves sometimes, to see magnificent wrecks.

I hadn't caused all of them.

The captain was stroking the wood of the bannister he leaned against. His thumb was gentle.

"I can't believe it. The Shadow is real, and looks as beautiful as if she had just come off the lot." He grinned, head tilting back to expose his neck. His eyes closed, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't need anything else. I can die happy now, just having found The Shadow." He pulled away from the wood, hands going into his pockets.

"Captain! We've searched most of the hold already, it's just full of moldy rocks and bad water!" One of the sailors stomped up to the Captain, a scowl on his face.

The Captain raised an eyebrow, looking the slightly shorter man up and down. "And? We've definitely found the right ship. What do I care about treasure? You'll still get paid what I promised." The Captain waved away the sailor, running his hands over another section of railing. He was approaching the helm, staring at it like it could answer every question he had ever had.

I wasn't sure how to react to him not caring about the treasure though. No one who sought out my ship knew that I was guarding it. Everyone wanted to find and take the treasure for themselves. The crew didn't seem to like that the captain didn't care about the treasure.

My mind whirled with possibilities as the crew began to tear through the ship, trying to find me. This Captain might really be someone worth keeping around. At least for a little while. I could always collect him after I finished with the crew. It would be nice to have a soul here independent of me. Then I would know his decisions were his own. Not to mention, I can't just let him leave after finding me, and I don’t think his crew will let him leave either. I grinned at the idea that these sailors were now all mine.

The Captain touched the helm, awe on his face.

I plunged into the woodwork of the ship, stretching my senses out through every piece of rigging. Snapping out, I grabbed every throat, wringing them like so much laundry. The crew were dead before a sound could be uttered. Another string of pearls clacked into being, wrapped around my body.

The captain was staring at me, his eyes a startling blue. I hadn't seen a person with such blue eyes before. They were almost as beautifully blue as the ocean in all her moods. They would be perfect to add to my collection of the most precious objects I could find.

In a flash, I revealed myself, watching as the Captain's beautiful eyes widened, showing even more shades of blue within their depths. There was nothing for it, I was utterly besotted. I had to have them. My hand reached out, cupping his face. The man was taller than me, but it didn't mean much when my feet didn't have to touch the floor.

"You–! You're not tangled in rigging! You're the treasure!" The Captain gasped, one hand covering his mouth, while the other carefully reached forward. It was if I hadn't just killed his entire crew before his eyes.

My own hands reached out, I cupped his face, feeling the strong jawline beneath my palms. It was so strange to be touching living flesh. The Shadow had already absorbed the bodies and nutrients of the men, their bodies no longer hanging from the rigging. I hadn't touched skin in so long…

The Captain began to scream, reaching up to try and shove me away. His eyes were so pretty, they would look better as the centerpiece for my favorite necklace. The pearls on that necklace had long gone dormant, but the souls inside had been important. Probably. How long since they last spoke to me? I pushed the thought away, wiping my hand across the empty sockets of my new Captain.

The wounds healed, and the man stopped screaming, his hands slowly lowering.

"Much better. Ahhhh, these are so pretty!" I exclaimed, wanting him to know I hadn't just thrown them out. "It's been so long since someone sought me out. Even longer since I had a Captain… it seems like that was what you were hoping for?" I asked, floating around my Captain, giggling as he spun around to my clacking.

"I…" He wet his bottom lip, head tilting this way and that, probably trying to follow me. "I've dreamt about being the captain of this ship for as long as I can remember." He was even telling the truth, rare that. The emotions bleeding from him were a desperate yearning I hadn't felt in ages. Usually I would only feel them from the terrified sailors that would flee before my storm.

My grin stretched too wide, but that was okay. He couldn't see it anyway. I looped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my flat chest to his own. The sound of the pearls rang across the ship.

"Welcome then, my Captain. Where are we going?" I asked, eager to find the first place I hadn't decided on.

Captain looked like I had dangled something precious in front of his face, only to snatch it away again. He scowled, trying to shove me off. I just clung tighter, phasing through his scrabbling hands so I didn't go anywhere. My grin turned to a bit of a snarl.

"You wanted to be my Captain, didn't you? Did you think there would be no price to pay? Now tell me. Where are we going?" I nuzzled into my Captain's throat, not wanting to scare him too much. It had been millennia since I had been human myself (was I ever actually human? Or did I imagine that?), so I would have to be patient with my Captain. Maybe I wasn't speaking his language?

Captain choked on air, but had stopped trying to push me away. His heart rate had spiked, rushing faster through his body as I stayed snuggled up to him.

This was going to be the start of a beautiful partnership.

[kcokaine]

Hi sorry but people on twitter are saying you’re a nazi and I was just wondering if that was true??

Not only is this quite outrageous take on someone without like 0 actual proof. I can admit in the "proof"(the zionism thing which people mean as Nazism) people used against me was me at most being insensitive/ignorant which i already sincerely apologized for because i wasn't edjucated on the matter whatsoever. It was not right of me and I never repeated that after i found out about the truth of things.

But also this is ridiculous. I'm not american, I'm from a country that has been wartorn by nazis and communists. All my life I was taught about atrocities these two sides did to central europe and other countries. If you had a swastika tattooed on you here you would get literally arrested or killed on the street. But that isn't even an argument, that's just me stating how stupid and hypocritical it would be of anyone to support such things from the area i was raised in. I'm highly anti nazi, anti facist or anti anything that is even similar to that. I stand with civilians and innocent people that are being collateral damage to war and governments. Therefore I'm not a trump supporter, i was always left leaning i was always for rights. Hell I'm a bisexual woman, how could i ever support someone like Trump in my right mind?

I do not understand where this claim is absolutely coming from and i dont understand how people disregard the severity of saying this online with confidence. This is such a serious accusation that can ruin reputations unrightfully and just shows how people have no interest searching for more proof or anything before saying serious things because all they care about is drama and that the finger is not pointed at them in that moment. We as society got too comfortable about canceling and just saying anything, growing into complete parasocial relationship within each other. You are either no person to them, no human being or you are a glorified idea. Everyone is a person behind that screen and if they ever got over they pride and looked themselves in the core they would understand they also do mistakes and not everything is black and white.

I'm hurt by these accusations. This isn't anywhere close to calling someone names or weird for having odd preferences and stuff in fandoms. This is claiming that I support actual genocide, suffering of real people which is fucking awful. It makes me sad, deeply hurt. I'm not saying im better than anyone else, i dont need to be, I want this genocide to end same as anyone else would. I reflected, I took criticizm to heart and I'm now trying to truly do something with my following, i retweet donation links and donate to the charities with spare money i have.

The truth is, no matter what I say, it will never be enough for the people that just want to have moral highground, they act like they never made a mistake, like they were never ignorant in their life. I wonder how they would like it if someone took something terrible out of context and endlessly kept posting it on social media just to feel better without you having a proper chance to redeem yourself, always being seen as a "nazi" in some people's eyes because someone lied about you. It's sad and I'm sorry you keep seeing this lie about me. I think about it every day. And with this message I wanted to let you know what I truly feel and think. If you believe it is on you, but I'm finally putting my thoughts out there after months of thinking.

[siderealscribblings]

99 Years, 11 Months, 28 Days

"No! No, you didn't say she would be here!" Yae Miko hissed, hiding behind Neuvillette's shoulder as a young woman in brown who definitely hadn't been there before grinned at her. "I did not agree to come down here with that demon woman !" 

The demon woman in question was barely taller than Furina, a gangly creature who looked to be more hair and sharp grinning teeth than a person. The glint in her eye gave Neuvillette pause, as though it might suddenly leap out and spark a fire. On her fingers sparkled a few dozen rings studded with glowing golden lapis that clackled as she waved at Miko. 

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii there Miko~" Hu Tao said to the suddenly terrified kitsune. "What's it been, a hundred and twenty years?"

"Not long enough!" Miko hissed, ears and tail puffing up like an angry cat. "Not nearly long enough!"  

"Who… how did you get in here?!" Neuvillette demanded, glaring at Zhongli. "Did she come with you ?" 

"If you want to be pedantic, I came here with her ," Zhongli shrugged. "Traveling across the continent is no small feat without a psychopomp to ease the passage." 

"And I've been here the whole time," Hu Tao sighed. "You held the door for me ; looked right through me . But nobody ever pays attention to death until it's staring them right in the face." 

"Death?" Neuvillette echoed. "What do you mean death?" 

"Forgive me, this is Hu Tao…better known by her adeptus name as the Unbound Flame," Zhongli said, watching Neuvillette's expression darken. "I take it you are familiar with her office as a chief reaper of souls, mortal and divine?" 

This is the Unbound Flame?! Neuvillette thought. Since his run in with Rex Lapis a few years back, he had spent hours reading up on the Geo Archon's exploits over the years in case they ever tangled again. As death followed war, the Unbound Flame followed Rex Lapis, a capricious little trickster goddess credited with everything from the invention of poetry to the final defeat of Osial's wicked cultists. A formidable force…who Neuvillette expected to be taller or at least look older than a fresh-faced university student. Even after so many years with Furina, it was hard to believe that power could live in such small packages. 

"Anyone who has studied the Archon Wars knows about the Unbound Flame," Neuvillette said quietly. 

"Then you know that no one understands death better," Zhongli said. "And if there is a way to speak with the departed souls of these men, she knows it." 

"Normally I'd let the dead rest, but something tells me these poor fools aren't sleeping quietly just yet," Hu Tao said, leaning in to inspect the corpses closer. "Do you know how they died?" 

Neuvillette glanced at Zhongli who just nodded. "They complained of pain and the gardes that found them said they started swelling suddenly. Further examination reveals their organs all ruptured as they were suffused with a lethal amount of Hydro energy. How that Hydro energy got there, I cannot say. " 

"Aiya, that's a bad way to go," Hu Tao clucked, running her fingers over the dead men's necks with the practiced ease of the world's oldest undertaker. "Osial had water snakes that would swim in rivers and bite our soldiers during the Archon War. They puffed up like this…but it usually took them hours to die. And then there are these weird tattoos."

Hu Tao traced her finger along the slimy tattoo, wiping her fingers as Hydro clung to them. "If we're not dumb enough to send assassins with Milleleth feathers, Focalors isn't dumb enough to brand our soldiers with her sigil before killing them." 

"So what did?" Neuvillette demanded. "Do you have some way to speak with the dead?" 

"Oh she does ," Miko hissed. "She just loves pulling spirits out of the threshold between worlds to torture people for her sick pleasure!" 

"You know, for someone who likes to mess with people as much as you do, I thought you'd be able to take one little joke with a little more grace," Hu Tao clucked. 

"I was lost in the forest for three days convinced that I had fallen into a plane of the Abyss!" Miko snapped. "You chased me around disguised as a giant vishap and convinced the tanuki that I was their lost queen and needed to be kidnapped for my own safety!" 

"...like I said, one joke." 

"I don't mean to interrupt," Neuvillette said, though that was exactly what he meant. "But there is a small matter of national security we need to deal with." 

"Now that is a small matter," Hu Tao sighed. " National security always struck me as an oxymoron like jumbo shrimp or living dead. As soon as you secure the stupid thing, it goes and gets itself insecure all over again." 

"You don't say?" Neuvillette said, his limited social graces already stretched to their breaking point. "Can you speak with the spirits of these dead men or can't you ?" 

Read More...

Chapter 1

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You've been living a peaceful life for the last 100 years, trying to be off the radar.

You did help Strange a few times from afar, but becoming an active participant? No, you had enough of that.

Your own ranch, your own daily routines. You were almost healed from centuries of fighting for your life, ideals and power.

Until one day Strange broke his part of the deal.

"I need your help."

You sighed. He never cared about your garden. Always appearing when you were searching for escape with your flowers.

"No, Stephen. Whatever it is, I don't care. And please levitate. You're leaving traces."

"it's Agatha Harkness."

You looked at him. No emotions. He was waiting for your reaction. But you didn't give him any clues.

"Since when can't you fight a bound witch?"

You turned back to your apple tree. You knew in what state Agatha was. Not a thread, not an opponent. She was too deep in her illusion.

"Everything is going to change soon. There are… Entities who want her free."

"Name me one entity who would want to be betrayed by her."

"I can name you two. The boy."

"One of the twins. " Only the sound of your garden shears was heard.

It wasn't even a question. You already felt it. Stephen wouldn't be here if the reason wasn't so serious.

"And the other one?"

"Your old friend."

"Why don't you do this yourself, Stephen?"

"You know I'm not allowed to interact with her."

___

WestView used to be a charming town. Before the Hex. You could still feel the remains of Wanda's magic. People were still scared, wounds were too fresh.

You quickly found Agatha. She was blissfully living through her illusion. Wanda definitely had style.

You knew Harkness when she was dangerous, now she was weak and vulnerable.

If it was the old you, her neck would snap in a second. But you changed. And she wasn't the one you were searching for.

If Stephen was right you were all fucked.

You followed Agatha to the police station, pawn shop, and her house.

The boy wasn't here yet. You had some time. You build yourself a charming backstory, you pretended to love bad coffee. In a month you were already a citizen of WestView.

What if Stephen was wrong? This happened before. Agatha was protected by her own dreams until the cracks the power of nature itself called for you.

You rushed to your hotel room. You needed protective spells. You were not the only witch in town.

___

Stephen was right. Unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer.

"I thought you could afford a better place."

Stephen was right. You were all fucked.

"I thought you're old enough not to play with food."

Rio laughed at the remark. You almost forgot that sound.  You recognized her immediately. Sure the clothes were different, hair, eyes were greener than you remembered.

There was no point in the book you were holding. You started remembering that spells never worked against Rio.

"What are you doing here?" She noticed your gesture of peace. No fight tonight.

"Making sure that you're keeping the monster on the leash."

"oh, it's so much not being a monster in this scenario." Rio smiled like a child who finally got her approval.

"It's not about you." You suddenly felt tired. You had this talk before. Each century you were alive.

"It's about you." Rio chose to come closer.

"Is that a holster under your jacket?"

"Yeah, Agatha is in her Swedish crime show period. You like it?"

Rio got rid of her jacket, which simply disappeared in thin air. Brunette always loved theatricality.

"Sure." You were not planning for her to be in your space. You tried to step aside.

"No, no, no." Rio grabbed your hand. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

You noticed the green light. No doubt her crown was a reminder of her power. Her cosmic power, her power over you.

"Leave the covenless witch alone." You whispered. Oh, but Rio heard every word. She smirked.

"or else?" you could feel her magic all over you.

You formed the fireball in your palm. Light was dancing in Rio's eyes.

"oh, isn't it our favorite foreplay?" witch mimicked your move with her free hand. Green rose appeared. "I missed this."

She let go of you and offered the flower. You took it.

You started remembering. Once it was like this. Every day. You almost forgot why you were here.

"leave Agatha as she is." You still were looking at the flower. It was flawless. Created by nature itself.

"really?" Rio groaned. "if I had known you'd care about her so much I'd lure her into darkness ages ago."

You could hear the hurt in her voice. It wasn't a distraction from her plan. She turned to the door. You flicked your wrist. Thin line of fire appeared around Rio's neck.

"I can't kill you. But I can definitely slow you down."

"till your sorcerer comes?" Rio laughed. She tilted her head and it was enough for you to hit the wall. If she wanted to you'd never get up again.

"Let's have a deal. You give me one date and I give you one more day of bound covenless witch."

___

This idea was so wrong. With Rio you never had courtship per se. The day you met she stayed with you. It was always about the sparks that amplified the worst in both of you.

You needed to know Rio's plan. You needed to win yourself some time.

This time Rio didn't invite herself In. You opened the door. This time it was a bouquet of flowers that never even existed. No doubt, Rio created them only for you.

This time it was a green suit. Always on brand.

Of course she was driving. It was the human thing you ever saw her doing.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll drink and watch the wolves howl at the full moon."

"There are no wolves here."

"I brought a few with me."

"Why did you leave me?" it was her first question after the awkward silence.

You were sitting on the branches that Rio lowered for you. Pack of white wolves was playing in front of you, occasionally asking for attention.

"Is that important?"

"don't mortals talk about their experiences, share feelings?"

"you're not a mortal."

"tonight I am."

You shrugged. You had to play this game.

"I was tired of being… A villain." whiskey was still burning your throat after all these years.

"I never asked you to."

"you never did. But you sure as hell were reminding me every day of who I was. With you I've forgotten the weight of my choices. With you everything was just a game…"

You felt her touch on your skin. Rio guided you towards her. You remembered this. She kissed you like this before. Many moons like this ago.

She was gentle. Always was. You just forgot it.

"You were never a game."

"And you were always thriving on chaos.",

You stood up. Immediately one of the wolves ran towards you. He was friendly, but like with Rio you were not sure he wasn't trained to pretend.

"Why do you need a covenless witch?"

"Is it important right now? It's always about the balance."

"Right. And a few witches you can take for yourself."

Greens started wrapping around your waist and arms. Rio was calling you. Slowly you let them drag you to her. You used to play like this. You used to allow her this.

"Give me another date and you'll get another day."

___

The next day you went to her house. She recreated the garden you once had. With her powers it was so much easier.

"Remember how we used to play with reality?"

"Yes."

Rio remembered every single of your creations. She was attentive to details. You did play with reality. Both of you. You were luring your enemies into scenarios that could never be real. And after that Rio was feasting on them.

"Exactly like now you're playing with Agatha. You always protected your deal with her."

You preferred this Rio more. With the crown, with the flowers in the dress. It was her element.

"She's an effective killer. That's it."

"And what about the boy?"

"And what about your peaceful life?" Rio squeezed grapes and the wine poured in glasses. She offered you one.

"It is expectedly peaceful."

"Sounds boring. Maybe that's why you're here. With me? Missed the fun?"

What did she want to hear from you? You never cared about fun. You missed her. You missed your lover, your partner, your chosen one. You missed your garden. It was never fun. It was always you destroying everyone with fire.

Rio threw her Chalice on the ground. Wine turned into flowers. Again she was too close. She was behind you. She was seducing you with her breath on your neck.

"Rio…" You tried not to give in so easily. "I'm here because…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the greater good." She was playing with your hair, whispering right into your soul. "It's all about not letting Agatha and the kid get their powers."

Her fingers were studying your heartbeat. She always thought that this curious mortal sound was only for her.

You only inhaled sharply. When you agreed to Stephen's plea you knew all about the risk. But you thought you were stronger than this.

"Let go of me."

When did her fingers travel to your neck? You didn't notice. Your whole body was tingling. Your soul was aching for her. You were alone for so long.

"You don't want this."

Of course you didn't. But Rio had no right to say it out loud.

___

Your third date was an unspoken agreement. You cooked. More for yourself, than for Rio. Old book of recipes reminded you of the hardships of trying to live amongst ordinary people.

"Candles are not lit."  Oh, that smug face. Rio always adored seeing your deadly powers in the most boring situations.

Table was between you this time.  You hoped it would help. It would give you a chance to win some time.

You tilted your head. Instead of candles - the fireplace became playful.  You disobeyed. In a very small detail, but Rio noticed.

This time the silence was longer, heavier. She wasn't eating. she wasn't playing.

"Do you ever miss your mortal family?"

"I do."

"What's it like?"

Rio never respected the concept of privacy. But those were the rules. You had to talk.

"Don't you know? Were you not there when both my husband and daughter died in my arms?"

You stood up for another bottle. Rio followed you to the kitchen.

"Did they… Did they give you what I couldn't?"

"They taught me once again to care about life. Respect the time. They reminded me that you're supposed to exist not only for your own sake."

You didn't admit that you barely remembered their faces. That the pain was almost gone. That for you it was just a fleeting moment. You already didn't remember whether it was real or not.

"Well, I remind everyone exactly this. But with you it's chaos, right?"

You could swear you saw a tear. Was Rio even capable of this? After all the time. all the damage. all the emptiness.

You pulled her closer. You wanted only to remind her that it was never her fault. You desperately wanted to remind her of that. You were clawing deeper and deeper into her. Biting. scratching, kissing whatever skin you could get.

You were tearing the silk. You pushed her against the kitchen aisle. It was always the chaos. But chaos that you wanted and were thriving for.

Now the chaos suddenly wanted to submit. You didn't expect that.

"I missed this." you were murmuring in her ear. You were ready to get on your knees for her. When did your hunger appear again? This time it was different. No burned land, no fallen trees, no skars and marks of struggle.

It was different this time. It took more than a hundred years for Rio to finally feel regret.

You didn't notice how you got into the bedroom. How clothes weren't yours anymore.

She took care of you. Rio always wanted only this.

___

The next day you didn't want to open your eyes. What if Rio wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm here."

Rio was watching you. She looked tense. She was sitting in the armchair, which now resembled the throne. She pointed to the cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Charming as usual."

"We don't have much time, baby." And there it was. Your nickname. "Kid is coming tonight. We need to be there."

"Oh, no, no. I'm not letting you…"

"It's about the kid. Not a covenless witch. He needs to come with me. And you will make sure it happens. Isn't this what sorcerers want?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you'll have to join the road. Come baby, we don't have much time." she gave you a peck on the cheek. "It's gonna be like the old times."

You sighed. Yeah, this was going to be an adventure. You simply hoped that this night you saw the real Rio. And after this night you would stay the same.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Across Time (8)

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, I've been dealing with insurance and life and the goddamn election bullshit someone get me out of here...

Sorry. Anyways. I could only get a short chapter out this week. Once I've had a chance to breathe for a while I'll have better, longer chapters out.

Pairing: Adar x Former Elf! Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air in Adar’s tent is thick with the smoke from the fire crackling in the center of the camp. The war drums still rumble in the distance, a reminder of the gathering storm. The firelight casts dancing shadows across the map stretched out on the table before you, its edges frayed and worn, covered in marks and symbols of battles past and the ones yet to come.

Adar stands over the map, his finger tracing a line from Mordor’s heart to Eregion. His thoughts are heavy, his voice steady but urgent. “I must gather my forces—Uruks, wildmen, and those that remain loyal to me. Eregion will fall. We will march when the time is right.”

You stand a few paces away, your arms crossed, watching him intently. His presence commands the space, his dark energy an ever-present undercurrent to the conversation. There’s something in his gaze tonight—a sharpness, a finality. It seems he’s made up his mind, and you know what that means.

“And Sauron?” you ask, your voice low, careful. You feel the weight of this question, knowing full well the danger it carries.

Adar’s eyes flick to you, his lips curling into something almost like a smile, though it holds no warmth. “He’s still a shadow in the woods, a flame flickering at the edges of our reach. But I intend to take him. One way or another.”

Your heart clenches at the thought. Sauron. The name itself carries a weight that none can escape. Even you, standing beside Adar, cannot quite banish the cold shadow it casts.

“You must know what he plans, yes?” Adar continues, his voice darkening. “He moves, too, in the shadows, waiting to reclaim what is his. I cannot allow that. I will move when I’m ready—but I need you to keep an eye on him. Follow him.”

Your brows furrow, not because you don’t understand, but because of the burden it carries. The thought of following Sauron, tracking his every step, is more than just a dangerous task—it’s a risk that could very well tip the balance of power in Middle-earth.

“You want me to shadow him while you prepare your forces for the march?” you ask, your voice steady despite the knot of unease tightening in your chest.

Adar nods, his eyes cold and calculating. “Yes. I need to know where he goes, whom he meets, and what plans he makes. He will not escape me again. You are one of the few who can move unseen, and I trust you to gather the intelligence I need.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering. The task ahead is fraught with danger—not just from Sauron, but from all that lies between you and your target. “And if I’m discovered?” you ask, though you already know the answer. If you’re found, it could very well spell your end.

“I don’t expect you to be discovered,” Adar replies sharply. “But should it happen, you know how to handle yourself. You’ve done it before. This is no different.”

His voice holds an edge of command, and you know he means it. He trusts you, in his own way. And yet, you can’t ignore the weight of this task. Following Sauron, watching him from the shadows—it’s a dangerous game to play, and it’s one that could unravel everything, even for you.

“And what of you?” you ask, your voice softer now, your gaze flicking to the map again. “While I watch him, you plan to move your army on Eregion?”

Adar’s eyes narrow, his expression resolute. “Yes. Eregion must fall. Sauron will be dealt with. But I need to be ready. I cannot risk anything standing in my way.”

You nod slowly, understanding. The stakes are high, and Adar’s resolve is clear. You can’t afford to fail.

“I’ll follow him,” you say, your voice steady. “But I will need something. A way to reach you, should things go wrong.”

Adar’s lips curl into a small, grim smile. “You’ll have it. You always do.”

++++++++++

The dawn is a dim, ashen light filtering through thick clouds as you tighten the last strap on your pack, checking each blade and vial one final time. The weight on your shoulders feels familiar—a reminder of all the missions you've carried out in ages past, each one marked by long nights of careful planning and colder days of loneliness. But this time, it’s different. You aren’t setting out at Morgoth’s command, nor answering the will of anyone but yourself. And yet, there’s a gnawing dread you can’t quite dispel, a tension tightening your hands even as you try to steady them.

Just as you’re lacing your cloak over your pack, you hear Adar’s steps approach from behind, steady and slow. You turn to find him watching you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. There’s something else in his gaze, too—a faint but undeniable worry.

“Remember,” he begins, his tone low and serious, “this is not the same as tracking an elf or ambushing a guard. Halbrand—Sauron—is no ordinary enemy. He wields a power that even the most cautious among us would be wise to fear.”

You hold his gaze, determined to keep your voice steady, though you sense his worry mirroring your own. “This is not my first time going into enemy territory,” you remind him, voice calm, trying to reassure him. “I’ve spent ages tracking down threats larger than myself, slipping through strongholds, and staying two steps ahead.”

Adar steps closer, his eyes narrowing slightly, his expression both resolute and grim. “And your courage is beyond question. But Sauron is no mere enemy of flesh and blood. He is a master of shadow and deceit—a being forged in darkness, with powers both vast and cunning.” His gaze sharpens. “Even the slightest misstep could be fatal.”

You tighten your grip on your pack, lifting your chin defiantly. “I’m aware,” you say, meeting his eyes squarely. “But I’ve dealt with darkness before. I know how to remain unseen.”

Adar’s eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. He studies you intently, as if weighing the strength of your resolve. “I would rather you didn’t have to do this at all,” he finally murmurs, voice low. “I did not give you freedom only to see you walk into the jaws of death.”

You hesitate, feeling his words weigh on you. “I know,” you say, softening. “But this is what I choose. And if I don’t do this—if I don’t stop him now—what will that freedom mean if he brings ruin upon everything you’ve fought for?”

Adar’s gaze softens for a moment, his hand lifting as if he means to touch you but stops short, his fingers curling back. “Then you must be careful,” he says, his voice carrying a rare, almost tender note. “Remember, Sauron is not an enemy bound by honor or reason. He will seek to unearth your weaknesses, to twist your mind with words as much as any weapon. And if he senses you for what you truly are…” He trails off, his expression darkening.

You nod slowly, feeling the chill of his warning sink in. “I’ll be cautious. I won’t underestimate him.”

A beat of silence, and then he speaks, his voice soft but unwavering. “I know you won’t,” he says quietly. 

For a moment, your heart clenches at his words, the warmth of them both unexpected and grounding. You manage a small nod, though you feel the weight of his gaze linger, pressing a kind of unspoken promise into you.

Just as you turn to head into the woods, Adar reaches out, his hand resting on your shoulder, a quiet but firm gesture to halt. You glance back at him, brow raised, but his gaze has shifted to the edge of the camp, where a young Uruk, lean and slight, steps forward, awaiting Adar’s summons with silent attention.

“I mentioned a way to reach me should you need it,” Adar says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This one will accompany you. He has been trained in silence and swiftness; he knows these lands better than most.” His eyes flicker to the young Uruk. “He will follow your command and ensure that you are not left defenseless, should Sauron prove… difficult”

The Uruk steps closer, his movements nearly soundless despite the rough ground beneath him. You assess him in the dim light—he’s slighter than most Uruks, with sharp, watchful eyes and an air of calm that strikes you as unusual for his kind. There’s an intelligence in his gaze, a quiet observation that reminds you of a hawk tracking every movement in its sight.

He meets your eyes and inclines his head in a quick nod, a quiet respect in the gesture. “I am Azgor,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “Adar has told me to protect you—to keep to the shadows, and to leave no trace behind.”

You nod slowly, taking in this unexpected addition. “Azgor,” you repeat, noting the pride that flares in his eyes at your acknowledgement. “I’m sure you’re as capable as Adar claims.”

Azgor straightens slightly, his shoulders lifting. “I am swift as ash falling in silence, and no one will hear me if I don’t wish it.” He glances at Adar, his fierce loyalty apparent. “I would die before allowing harm to come to one of Adar’s own.”

A flicker of surprise catches you off-guard, though you don’t let it show. Adar sent you a companion not just for your safety, but as a gesture of trust. The weight of that gesture rests heavily on you, and you feel both a warmth and a tension settle in your chest.

Turning back to Adar, you meet his gaze one final time, a silent agreement passing between you. He is entrusting you with one of his own—and trusting one of his own with you.

You offer a nod. “We’ll go unseen. Azgor and I will watch and report back if I need support.”

Adar’s expression remains stony, but there’s a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. And remember, both of you,” he says, his voice softening, “you are valued here. Your lives are worth more than a spy’s report.”

Azgor straightens even more at these words, and you feel the same faint spark of pride in your own chest. With one last nod, you and Azgor slip away from camp, two shadows passing into the deep woods, moving silently toward the unknown trail of Sauron.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: ezra bridger has been following online microcelebrity spectre_pheonix for years. although her online identity is shrouded in mystery, he may be closer to her than he realizes. word count: 7309 (7974 counting alt text)  co-authorship note: the video game sequences featured in this fic were written by my co-author, shadow-ninja-13, who also helped me figure out a few plot things and what video games to include where. he's also my teenage brother, known by some on this site as skyguy, and he's the coolest kid on the planet!a/n: After so, so, so much time working on this fic and talking it up IT'S FINALLY FINISHED!!! Shoutout to my tumblr follows for helping me out with a couple ideas in this fic! Some of this fic is told in embedded images. I have added alt text, so it should be accessible via screenreader as well. I can probably make a pdf copy of a full plaintext version of the story available if anyone needs it! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader@accidental-spice@kanerallels  @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse@dootchster  @lucasbridger@redroverrider  @light-umbra   @commander-tech  @jedimandalorian@notanodinarygirl  {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

need a player 2?

 No, that definitely sounded insincere.

 Ezra backspaced the message he'd typed into the livestream chat, then typed something else.

 Duh. Too obvious. Try again.

 Perfect.

 Ezra hit the send button and waited for a response. It was very rare that spectre_pheonix responded to any of the hundreds of thousands of comments she'd get on her streams, but that didn't stop Ezra from hoping.

 Ezra watched as the player found the Warthog, and perfectly drove, splattering the Aliens that got in her way. Nearby there was a small opening, he watched the player take the truck through, by driving on the stone wall. If she flipped, it’d be all over. If not, she’d be more awesome than usual. The landing was about to happen, the anxiety was building,  and then… a hand got in between him and the phone, blocking his view entirely.

 "Hey," Ezra said, pulling his headphone off of one ear so he could yell at his roommate, whose hand covered his phone.

 "Hey yourself," Jai said, "we gotta get going; we're gonna be late."

 Ezra hadn't looked at a clock since the stream had started, which was apparently three hours ago. Somehow it was already fifteen minutes before the dining hall stopped serving dinner, and it was at least a ten minute walk down that way.

 "Shoot," Ezra sprang to his feet, "I must've lost track of time again."

 "Because you were watching that gamer girl?" Jai asked, leaning on the doorframe.

 "Maybe," Ezra said, as he reached for the nearest matching pair of shoes he could stuff his feet into.

 "What's so interesting about watching someone game, anyways?" Jai asked.

 "I think it's about loyalty now more than anything," Ezra said, "I've been watching her stream since before she became popular. It just wouldn't be right if I didn't watch her gaming sessions, especially when it's a game I love. Besides, she just has this way about her. She's so cool, so collected, so…."

 "....hot?" Jai attempted to finish for him with a smile.

 "I wouldn't know," Ezra said, "she's very good about keeping her personal life personal. I've never seen her face. No one has."

 "So she's a mystery girl."

 "She's just like any other celebrity," Ezra defended.

 "So you mean she'd be way out of your league even if you knew who she was?" Jai asked.

 "More like I haven't even considered it," Ezra said, "I'm one of millions of fans."

 "Isn't her follower count only…"

 "Enough talking," Ezra said, pulling Jai out the door of their dorm room, "I heard a rumor it's pizza night in the dining hall."

 And with that, both boys were off on a new quest: Obtain Pizza.

💜.🎮.🧡

 "I wonder how they'd react if they knew who was in the room with them," Sabine thought, sitting alone with her sketchbook in a corner of her college's student center.

 Across the room, a group of boys were having a heated discussion over their game of Smash Bros. She didn't try to eavesdrop, but she'd always been aware of the world around her, and definitely heard the words "spectre" "phoenix" and "most influential gamer of our generation." 

 "You must be trippin'," one of them said, "her 'let's plays' are nothing more than a halfhearted follower grab."

 "Oh, like you'd know," another said, "your youtube channel has, what, seventeen followers? Oh, and you just came in last place, again."

 Sabine looked back up at their game to see that the fourth-place gamer had been playing as Bowser, then watched Diddy Kong deal a crippling blow on Captain Falcon.

 Then, she glanced at the players, all of them laughing and roasting each other. One wore a t-shirt that said "official spectre spectator," and another had a hat on backwards with spectre_pheonix's logo on it. Sabine would recognize that merch anywhere— after all, she was the one who designed it— as merch for her own shop, and she couldn't say she was disappointed by how much praise its wearers spoke of her with.

 "If only they knew who I was," Sabine thought, but she quickly reminded herself she was glad they didn't. Though she was thankful for her followers and their merch money paying her tuition, she wasn't prepared to have toxic dudebros hounding her everywhere she went. And once word got out at college that she was spectre_pheonix, there would go any sense of normalcy she had. Besides, if word about it slipped back home to her parents, she'd be deeper trouble than she already was.

 So before she could do something regrettable and talk to them, she packed up her stuff and moved to a different study spot.

💜.🎮.🧡

    The Flood surrounded her. In an unexpected turn of events, the creepiest enemy in the entire Halo saga had been introduced. She fired her assault rifle at the hoards of Flood crawling on the ground. The salvo was effective, but costly. She had forty rounds plus one full clip, but that wouldn’t be enough. As she walked the character up some stairs, she found allies, and promptly borrowed their ammo. At the end of the swamp, she encountered the monitor, and watched the cutscene at the end of 343 Guilty Spark.

  "Sorry guys, gotta stop the stream for the night," Sabine said, "it's well past midnight here, and I've got an eight a.m. class."

 She watched the comment section flare up with responses. 

💜.🎮.🧡

 Ezra stumbled into class a couple minutes late, but he was sure his professor would understand. It wasn't his fault that spectre_pheonix had been streaming late last night, right? As long as he quietly slipped into the back of the classroom, no one would notice anyways.

 "Mr. Bridger," Professor Syndulla called to him as he tried in vain to hide his late entry, "so glad you've decided to join us this morning."

 Ezra turned around and tried to hide his guilty expression.

 "Of course, ma'am," Ezra said, with a dramatic salute, "I'd never miss out on one of my favorite teacher's classes."

 "Flattery gets you nowhere in my class," the professor said, "take a seat, and we'll continue."

 "Yes ma'am," Ezra said. He took a seat as close to the back of the room as he could and pulled out his laptop to take notes.

 Ezra tried his best to pay attention, but the lack of sleep was getting the better of him as Professor Syndulla's lesson dragged on.

 "Maybe I could get dad to sit in on class and take notes for me sometime," Ezra thought, "he could listen to her talk for hours."

 It was, admittedly, a little weird that his adoptive father was dating his psychology professor, but at least her letter of recommendation helped him get into this school— on the condition that he "applied himself diligently to his studies" and didn't "discredit her influence by trying to coast on it" and all that other stuff they'd told him when she'd suggested he attend Atollon Alliance University.

 "But I'm definitely not 'diligently applying myself' if I fall asleep in class," Ezra thought, the notes document before him blurring before his eyes, "and I need to do something to stay awake."

 So, he turned to the one thing he'd never be able to sleep through— one of the many videos in his "watch later" tab on youtube. After double checking to make sure his laptop's sound was off and muted— you could never be too careful— he clicked a video titled "spectre_pehonix's top FIFTY EPIC saves!!!" and watched along as he listened to Professor Syndulla's lesson, finding that all that boring stuff about psychology was a lot more interesting when he also had spectre_phonix’s abilities with some grenades against Wraiths, Hunters, and Banshees to focus on.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Class wasn't the only time Ezra used gaming videos to focus. He'd never been one for focusing on one task at a time, and usually found that if he sat down to study, he'd end up pulling out his phone and watching videos on YouTube anyways, and that it was better in the long run to start out with some gaming recap video in the background— except on days when spectre_pheonix was streaming during his study sessions, of course, and he'd watch it live, streaming Twitch in one window on his computer and whatever essay he was nearing the deadline on in the other.

 Today, for example, he had her stream of Halo in the background of a rousing essay of the themes and morals of The Octopus.

 The clock was ticking. 4:23 seconds left to go. The clock only counted down. She drove the Warthog through the groups of retreating Aliens and Flood. 4:07 seconds left to go by this point. She was told to stop, but she knew that that evac point wouldn’t help her. She’d played before, and she knew that the evacuation Pelican was shot down. She kept on driving. At max speed she used an odd floor detailing as a ramp, and jumped a whole group. The stress and tension of the final level made normal players stressed, but not Sabine. 2:25 left on the clock. The point was only about one kilometer away. She kept going, and going, and going. Nothing could stop her now. 1:22 left on the clock, she was within one kilometer away. She would make it! Unless she flipped by mistake. :44 seconds and counting! She saw the Pelican, and started running. She could take the Warthog no farther. She jumped in the Pelican at the last second. Barely beating Halo: Combat Evolved.

 "It's like my teacher always says," spectre_pheonix said, "when things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

 Ezra had only been half focusing, but this statement warranted his full attention. It wasn't as though the statement was profound or original— in fact, he'd heard it before. Abandoning his book report for the moment, Ezra expanded the Twitch tab across his whole screen, and ran it back ten seconds, thinking maybe his brain was playing some cruel trick on him.

 "When things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

 "That's exactly what Professor Syndulla said in psych class today." Ezra thought, "Is spectre_pheonix in my psychology class? Does she go to Attalon Alliance University too? No, that's crazy. Isn't it?"

 His thoughts soon became a cluttered and jumbled mess, so he pulled out a notebook, flipped to random blank page, and after forty-seven minutes had constructed a list that looked something like this:

 His results were inconclusive, but he suddenly remembered the book report due in less than an hour, and the two-thousand seventy-three words short he was from the word count.

 💜.🎮.🧡

 The last decade or so had gone pretty much exactly as Hera had planned. After realizing how important it was to her to help guide young people to their place in the world, she'd set her sights on a philosophy PHD so she could teach at Attalon Alliance University. She'd graduated with honors, and soon began teaching, and it was just as fulfilling as she'd planned it would be.

 But what she hadn't considered in her plans was falling in love. When she was in college, she'd been too focused on her studies, and later on her duties as an RA in her dorm, to even consider pursuing a relationship, and by then, well, she figured there weren't a lot of single men in their late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors, so she poured herself into her work instead, and building good connections with her students as much as she could.

 But, apparently, she hadn't been entirely correct in her assessment of her prospects. There was, apparently, at least one single man in his late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors— a man by the name of Kanan Jarrus, one who'd figured there weren't a lot of single women in their late twenties interested in dating the kind of guy who'd adopted an eight year old at the age of twenty-one and now had a sixteen year-old son who spent most of his time either playing video games or watching other people play them.

 Hera had met Kanan in a chance run-in at a Wisconsin cheese festival, and though there was no denying the spark between them, it took a couple more chance run-ins before she'd agreed to a date. Their relationship progressed slowly, with Hera's career and Kanan's delicate balance of providing for and raising his son, but they'd had more time to see each other over the past year, since his son had enrolled at Attalon Alliance University.

 "Morning, Professor Syndulla," Ezra grinned, walking into class one morning.

 Though all of Hera's students may as well have been her children, she had a special fondness for that one— and took extra caution to make sure she didn't give him special treatment. Though he hadn't fathered Ezra, Kanan's influence on his life was evident through his actions. Ezra shared a lot of mannerisms with his dad, including an answer or an excuse always at the ready, and a charming smile he seemed to think would absolve himself of guilt. However, there were a lot of qualities they didn't share, and one of them was Ezra's propensity to be late.

 It was this propensity for lateness that made Hera do a double-take. Class wouldn't start for another five minutes, and Ezra was here, in class, early.

 "Good morning, Mr. Bridger," Hera said, "is there any particular reason you've shown up on time this morning?"

 "Maybe I'm finally taking this whole 'education' thing seriously?" Ezra suggested.

 "Mhmm," Hera nodded, "and maybe a certain gamer wasn't streaming last night."

 "Well, there's that too," Ezra rolled his eyes and headed for his usual seat, towards the back of the classroom.

 She watched as the rest of the students made their way into the classroom, and another one caught her attention, and not just because of her brightly colored hair.

 "Miss Wren," Hera said, "I enjoyed reading your paper last night."

 "Thanks, Professor Syndulla."

 That was the entirety of their interaction, but Hera could tell by the smile on her student's face that she had taken it to heart. One time during Sabine Wren's first semester, Professor Syndulla had complimented something she said in class, and from the expression on her face, Hera could tell that kind of positive affirmation was foreign to Sabine— and she made it her personal mission to make sure it wasn't foreign to her anymore. Though their conversations rarely went further than a compliment on the student's hard work and a thank you for the professor, Hera could tell that Sabine appreciated it, in her own way.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Ezra had had his own reasons for coming into class on time, and not just to improve his education. He hadn't abandoned his spectre search (or "wild ghost chase," as Jai had called it when Ezra explained it to him,) and his biggest evidence pointed to this class. Maybe if he actually showed up on time, he could get to know his classmates well enough to find out if one of them was her. Instead of listening to her in his headphones as their professor taught, he listened for her in his classroom as their professor took the students' questions, which didn't increase his focus on the lesson at all, but it did give him something to do in class other than watch YouTube recaps and pretend to be taking notes, so it was a nice change of pace.

 After class, he hung around a little longer than normal, standing by one of the classroom doorways to see what he could overhear.

 When only a few students remained in the classroom, Professor Syndulla approached him.

 "Alright, Bridger," she said, "what's your angle?"

 "Angle?" Ezra asked, "why do you assume I have 'an angle?'"

 "You came to class five minutes early, and instead of making a break for the door as soon as possible, you're hanging around after class is dismissed. Pardon me for being suspicious."

 Ezra didn't respond.

 "If there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm here," she said.

 "Look, it's nothing," Ezra said, "don't worry about it."

 Ezra decided to turn heel and leave before his dad's girlfriend started psychoanalyzing him again.

 What Ezra hadn't counted on was someone else walking through the doorway at the same time, and him running into her.

 "Watch where you're going," she grumbled, as a textbook and a few notebooks fell out of her arms.

 Ezra had seen this kind of scene in movies before, so he figured he may as well pick up the textbooks for her.

 "I'm so sorry," he said, crouching down and grabbing the books off the floor, "I didn't…"

 She sighed. "It's alright."

 Her voice almost seemed familiar— no, it did seem familiar.

 "Here you go," Ezra said, getting up and handing her the books, "I, uh…."

 He stumbled over his words, because not only did he recognize her voice as one of his favorites in the world, but when he looked up at her face, he saw rich brown eyes, and hair the same color as spectre_pheonix's logo.

 "You're good," she smiled as she took the books from him.

 "I, uh," he scratched his neck, "I like your hair."

 "Nice shirt," she said, and winked as she walked away.

 He looked back at her as she left, then back down at his shirt— his favorite shirt he'd ever gotten from his favorite streamer's online shop. 

💜.🎮.🧡

 Even when Sabine got back to her dorm room after class, the boy who'd bumped into her after class was still on her mind. There wasn't anything exceptional about him, but there was some kind of awe that sparkled across his blue eyes that almost made her feel special.

 So, as soon as she got back to her dorm room, weird as it sounded, she decided to draw him— not his whole face, just those eyes that had been fixed on her, tucked between a shaggy crop of hair, and those mysterious scars underneath. It wasn't abnormal for her to draw inspiration from people she'd seen around campus like that.

 She also could tell that he must've been a longtime fan of hers. She hadn't sold the "spectre spectator" shirt on her merch site for a couple years, but he had one, and he wore it proudly. She tried to remind herself that there was no way he could've known it was her; she'd been so careful not to leave a trace of her real self online.

 Still, as she saw the awe on this fanboy's face, she wondered if that's how all her followers would respond to seeing her. Her follower count was just a number, but she wondered if that number was all awestruck and loyal followers like that one.

 So, once she finished the sketch, she went to her Twitch profile. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three followers. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three people, people just like the one she met today, who appreciated her with an awestruck wonder.

 She scrolled through the list of names, and noticed one near the top of the list— spectre_6, whose username she'd seen in the comments of many of her videos over the years. The notification said they were streaming Terraria, and, out of curiosity, she pulled up the stream and decided to check it out.

💜.🎮.🧡

 It wasn't very often that Ezra found himself with free time. When he wasn't watching spectre_pheonix's livestreams, or doing homework, or attempting to do both at the same time, he was usually sleeping or hanging out with his friends.

 However, today after class, he found himself with free time enough to do a little digging, and add a new page to his conspiracy:

 It seemed like a good enough list for now, so he decided that, since spectre_pheonix wasn't streaming right now, he may as well pull up Terraria and do a little streaming of his own.

 He was crawling through the pink blocks of his dungeon. Wielding his trusty Horseman’s Blade, he walked through the rough stones of this monster-ridden dungeon. He jumped down a shaft, relying on his jet pack to keep him from dying on the ground. He used the melee/range sword to promptly cut down a nearby Necromancer. He kept running through, and quickly slew several Blue Armored Bones.

 Ezra heard the blip of activity in his comment section, and glanced at the sidebar on his screen. It wasn't unheard of for him to get comments on his streams, but it also wasn't very common either.

 He glanced at the comment, then did a double take and a triple take. The color of the name was familiar. The username was familiar. There was a checkmark next to her name to show he was following her.

 Ezra's heart skipped several beats, like when your teacher calls on you in class, but in a good way, like when you're prepared for it— but he wasn't prepared for this at all, no matter how much he'd dreamed it would happen.

 Spectre_pheonix had commented on one of his livestreams.

 "OH MY GOSH!" he yelled into the mic, not noticing The Paladin behind him until it was too late. Quite frankly, he didn't care that his “Incompetence was put on display by Paladin’s Hammer” because at least being dead gave him a chance to respond to her comment.

 He tried to get back into his game, but couldn't focus, especially when she responded.

 She didn't reply to that, and he wondered if she was still even watching. Rather than just check in a normal way, he instead blurted, "spectre_pheonix, if you're still watching, wanna do a collab sometime?"

 He was mentally kicking himself in the shins for asking such a foolish question, but was excited when he saw a reply in the comments section:

💜.🎮.🧡

 The past week had pretty much been the best week of Ezra's life. Spectre_pheonix rarely collabed with anyone, but the past week they'd joined in together for Minecraft, LEGO Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and Dust: An Elysian Tale, the latter of which, being single player, was just spectre_pheonix playing and spectre_6 giving commentary. Not only was this a dream come true, but it also boosted his meager follower count, and Jai had even stopped picking on him for his fantasy fanboying, instead jokingly referring to Ezra's collabs as "the closest thing he'd ever get to a date." Ezra didn't care.

 He'd also been on the lookout more and more for that girl he'd run into, Sabine. Whether or not Sabine was spectre_pheonix, he had yet to decide on, but that didn't change the fact that she was still a pretty girl who'd smiled at him at least once, which definitely kept her in the forefront of Ezra's mind.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Sabine rarely shared any information about herself online, but it was hard to plan collab information via Twitch, so she'd exchanged discord handles with spectre_6. Admittedly, he would've been as great a gamer as she was, if maybe he'd had a little more practice playing instead of just spectating. Still, collabs with him were enjoyable, and his sense of humor turned even Dark Souls into a hilarious adventure.

 As she took notes on Professor Syndulla's class on her laptop, she kept discord open in a separate tab.

 "Miss Wren?" Professor Syndulla asked, "is there something humorous about my lesson on how having traumatic experiences as a child inhibit our ability to make connections in the future?"

 "No, ma'am," Sabine said. She hadn't realized how much of a mistake it would be to message spectre_6 in class until now. Usually, the people she'd chat with in class didn't have nearly as great a sense of humor as he did. Surely that was the only reason his conversations had her giggling in the middle of psych class.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Ezra had done just enough research in class to find out everything he needed to know about Sabine. He'd positioned himself where he could see her, notice the deep gray of discord in the side corner of her computer next to the class notes. She typed in response to his messages. She laughed in response to his messages. When the teacher called her out for giggling in class, the same thing apparently happened to spectre_pheonix. She closed discord and payed attention in class at the same time spectre_pheonic did.

 Ezra was convinced now more than ever: spectre_pheonix's real name was Sabine Wren, and she'd been in his psychology class this whole time.

 She was a very private person, and someone finding out who she was definitely wasn't on her radar with how careful she'd been about personal details, so he knew if he brought it up, he'd have to breach the subject very, very carefully.

💜.🎮.🧡

 "I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!"

 Sabine looked up from her notebook with a start, intending to stick around after class so she could apologize to Professor Syndulla, not so that some random peer could slam his hands on her desk and yell ungrounded accusations at her.

 But to her surprise, and in some ways her delight, the student she saw in front of her was the boy she'd bumped into last week, with the same soft blue eyes, the same dark, shaggy hair, and the same purple and orange shirt she'd once sold on her shop.

 "What do you mean?" Sabine asked, beginning to pack up her things in an attempt to make a hasty exit.

 His voice lowered. "I know you're spectre_pheonix."

 She tried to keep a cool head, not to show her abject terror. She knew of a lot of bad things that had happened to celebrities when a crazed fan found them, and couldn't let this one know the truth.

 "Who?" she asked, "I'm sorry, I, I don't know what you're talking about."

 "I think you do," he said.

 "What makes you so sure?" she asked, trying to stall just a moment as she quickly slung her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave.

 "Because I'm spectre_6."

 She stopped dead in her tracks and turned back to look at him, sizing it all up in her mind. He'd clearly been a longtime fan of hers, just like spectre_6 had. Now that she thought about it, his voice sounded familiar, too. He'd also mentioned sitting in class, right when she was, and that the same thing had happened in his class that happened to her.

 Still, she needed confirmation.

 "What?"

 "You started laughing in class today because of my joke about tax evasion," he said, "and then decided to 'sign off and lock in' so you could keep your grades up. Last night after you finished your collab with me, I messaged you a gif of Master Chief saluting and saying "goodnight," and you called me a total dork— that was a high honor, by the way. And then the day before that…"

 "Okay, okay," she said, a little quieter, afraid of the few students still in the room overhearing, "I'm convinced. But how did you find out it was me?"

 "You quoted Professor Syndulla in your stream a week and a half ago," he said, "and then you complimented my shirt last week, the same shirt I'm wearing now— and yes, I have washed it between then and now— and your hair matches your logo, and, I was watching you today in class— not, like, watching you, watching you. Like, not in a stalker way— oh kriff, am I a stalker? I am so sorry, that's really creepy now that I think about it. Anyways while I was hopefully maybe definitely not stalking you, I noticed that you reacted to every message I sent spectre_pheonix, and my suspicions were confirmed."

 And Sabine's suspicions were confirmed when she heard him ramble, the same way spectre_6 always did when he was nervous in-game.

 "Nice deduction, spectre_6," she said, feeling so much more comfortable now that she knew that this stranger was a friend she'd already met.

 "Call me Ezra," he said, extending a hand to her, "Ezra Bridger."

 "Sabine," she said, taking his hand and shaking it, "it's nice to finally meet you."

 "You have no idea," he said.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Being roommates with Ezra Bridger meant you had to be prepared for anything. Walking into the dorm room and thinking you're alone only to find your roommate under his desk, watching vines, and claiming both those things were for "emotional support." Listening to the most insane rumors and conspiracy theories about your teachers and classmates. Helping hide that stupid orange cat he'd smuggled in. Waking up at 2am to the beeping of a microwave and the smell of pizza rolls. All of this came with the territory, and Jai was professional in handling the insane force of nature that was Ezra Bridger.

 But none of it could prepare him for what he saw when he walked into his dorm room one day after lunch and found Ezra cleaning. For someone whose laundry was piled higher than his loft bed, and who acted like he'd never seen a bottle of windex in his life, Ezra sure seemed to have purpose as he rushed around the room, putting away clean clothes while also tidying up the cluttered pile of papers and funko pops that he claimed were hiding a desk.

 "May I ask what the occasion is?" Jai asked.

 Ezra didn't even turn to look at him as his tornado of tidiness swept across the dorm room.

 "Surprise."

 "Surprise what?" Jai asked, "like, 'you can't tell me' surprise, or 'you wanted to surprise me by cleaning our room' surprise or 'your dad is coming for a surprise visit' surprise?"

 "The first one," Ezra said.

 "I'm not even gonna ask," Jai said.

 "Good," Ezra said, "because you wouldn't believe me."

 There were a lot of things Ezra could do that were unbelievable, but he was pretty sure just cleaning up the room was enough to suspend his standard of disbelief.

 Jai sat down at his own desk and pulled out his laptop, figuring he may as well work on his history homework while he waited for the inevitable Bridger surprise.

 About ten minutes later, Jai thought he heard a knock on the door, followed by Ezra yelling out "I'M COMING!" and bolting for the door, picking up the last bits of trash off the floor on his way.

 Jai watched his roommate fumble to open the door with the trash still in his hand, then toss it into a corner where it wouldn't be seen and pull the door open.

 "Sabine," Ezra said, "come on in."

 "Alright," a girl's voice said.

 A girl?

 Ezra Bridger had never talked to a girl in person in all their time at Attalon Alliance University, so naturally Jai was surprised when a beautiful girl followed Ezra into their dorm room.

 "Oh, Sabine," Ezra said, "this is my roommate, Jai."

 "Nice to meet you," Sabine said, with a smile.

 "Pardon the disbelief on my face," Jai said, "I didn't know Ezra even knew how to talk to girls who weren't on his computer."

 Ezra looked a touch embarrassed, but his new friend spoke up for him, with half a giggle.

 "We met through his computer," Sabine said, "he may have mentioned me. Spectre_pheonix?"

 "You mean the Wild Ghost Chase wasn't just another ungrounded conspiracy theory?" Jai asked.

 "Wild Ghost Chase?"

 "It's called The Spectre Search," Ezra defended, "and yes, as I predicted, spectre_pheonix is, in fact, another student in my psych class."

 "I came over to do a collab in person today," she said, "it's a lot better than trying to voice chat over Ezra's grainy mic setup."

 "Hey!" Ezra said.

 "She's got a point," Jai said, "and I guess my prediction was right too."

 "What prediction?" Ezra asked.

 "I told you if you ever met her she'd be way out of your league."

 "Hey!" Ezra said again. "Don't you have a history report due?"

 "Relax, I'm just messing with you," Jai said, "besides, this one's an easy A."

 And with that, he turned back to his computer and let Ezra and Sabine have the illusion of privacy for their first in-person edition of "the closest thing Ezra would ever get to a date." Jai put on his headphones and went to his favorite research material: opening Spotify and resuming where he'd last left off in Hamilton: An All American Musical.

💜.🎮.🧡

 It wasn't uncommon after that for them to stream in Ezra's dorm room, or in Sabine's when Jai was busy with homework he couldn't risk interruption in. This time was one of those days, because, as Jai cited, "Lin Manuel Miranda didn't write us a musical about algebra," so Ezra found himself on the floor in her room, leaning his back against her bed, while she sat on her bed, her legs dangling off the side next to him.

 While they waited to connect on their college's laggy internet, Ezra filled the silence.

 "So, how do you think you'll do on that psych test next week?"

 "Not too bad, I hope," Sabine said, "you?"

 "I just hope dad has room on the fridge for another D-," Ezra said.

 "Maybe I can put in a good word with the professor for you," Sabine said, a bit of a laugh in her tone. "She and I have a fairly good rapport."

 "If only you knew," Ezra thought.

 "Unfortunately, this is one area where I think I do have you beat," Ezra said.

 "Are you crazy?" Sabine asked, leaning over the edge of the bed so she could see if his expression was sarcastic, "she's clearly got it out for you. I've never seen her go so hard on any student."

 "And why do you think that is?" Ezra asked.

 "Because you don't apply yourself in any of your classes and she thinks you're wasting potential?"

 "Well, yeah," Ezra said, "but I'm not the only one who does that, and she singles me out anyways."

 "And why do you suppose that is?"

 Ezra sighed. Professor Syndulla had never mentioned having a boyfriend, at least, not in any of the classes Ezra had been in, and if she had, no one besides Jai would've known it was Ezra's dad. It was a touchy subject for him, so he didn't bring it up much.

 But somehow he could tell Sabine would understand.

 "She's dating my dad," Ezra said.

 "She— what?"

 This wasn't normal information for students to know about their teachers, so he understood her confusion.

 "How do you think I even got into this school, what, with my grades?" Ezra asked, "if not for her glowing letter of recommendation, I wouldn't even be here right now."

 "So your dad is dating your professor so you can get into college?"

 "What, no?" Ezra said, "They've been together for years, and I wasn't even thinking about college until long after they met. But dad always thought college would be good for me, and Professor Syndulla offered to help me get in and found me some scholarships."

 "So our psych professor is hard on you because she's dating your dad?"

 "Yeah, lots of psychology to unpack there." Ezra said.

 "How do you feel about it all?"

 Ezra paused. He hadn't answered that one honestly in a while, not even when his dad asked him last saturday.

 "Do you really wanna know?" Ezra asked.

 Sabine slid down off her mattress and sat down next to him, and her presence was already familiar enough to inspire honesty.

 "Yeah," she said.

 "It's weird," Ezra said, "I guess I never really grasped the idea of having a mom again."

 After a moment of silence, Sabine asked another question. "Can I ask what happened to your mom?" 

 "The same thing that happened to my dad," Ezra said, "my real dad that is— I mean, my birth dad. I don't wanna say Kanan's not my real dad. He raised me for more than half my life, anyways, after my parents went on a missions' trip and never came back."

 "Oh."

 "It's alright," Ezra said, not letting her waste time on awkward sympathy. "No, no it's not, and to be honest it really sucks, but there's nothing any of us could've done to stop it. And Kanan, he was always there for me, even before my parents left."

 Sabine didn't answer, but it felt nice to talk to her about it anyways, so he hoped she didn't mind that he continued.

 "They're getting married," he said.

 "What?"

 "Professor Syndulla and my dad," Ezra said. "Well, she doesn't know it yet, and maybe she'll say no again, but I don't think so. Dad's proposing at dinner on Friday."

 Sabine nodded again, clearly trying to process everything he'd said.

 "I'm sorry," Ezra said, "I didn't mean to make this a pity party."

 "Don't be," Sabine said, "this is what friends are for."

 "Friends?" Ezra thought, with a smile. Two months ago he'd been her fan, and she hadn't even known he existed. And now they were friends? He could get used to this.

 "But just so we're clear," Sabine said, "I don't pity you."

 "What?"

 "You have a dad who thinks the world of you," Sabine said, "and I'd kill to have a mom like Professor Syndulla."

 "Why?" Ezra asked.

 "Because I know what it's like to have a mom who's not like her," Sabine said, "a mom who's not proud of you. A mom who doesn't compliment the sketches you draw in the margins of your notes. A mom whose biggest dream is for you to drop out of your art major so you can join the family business instead."

 "I, I'm sorry," Ezra said.

 "I don't need your sympathies either," Sabine said.

 "You're getting them anyways," Ezra said, "do you want to talk at all?" "What's there to say?" Sabine said, "that family business always came before family? That even my own brother thought it was more fun to game with his friends than his sister? That my parents wouldn't give a single dime for my tuition, and if it wasn't for my merch money and some massive scholarships I wouldn't even be here?" 

 Ezra put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, trying to find the words to say. Someone whose whole persona was built on a mask of online secrecy had just shared something so personal with him, and he didn't know what to say.

 "Do you wanna come to dinner on Sunday?"

 "What?" Sabine asked, apparently shocked out of her despair.

 "I always go to my dad's for a family dinner on Sunday afternoon after church. Professor Syndulla does too. We're probably gonna be celebrating the engagement, and then she's gonna beat us in our weekly game of Ticket to Ride. It's incredibly boring, but if you wanna join us anyways…"

 "I'll be there," Sabine said with a smile.

 And instead of returning to her normal seat, she stayed next to Ezra as they remembered why they were there in the first place and began their game together.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Sunday ended up being one of the most enjoyable days Sabine had had in a long time. She ended up tagging along with Ezra that morning when he went to church, so he wouldn't have to drive back to the school to pick her up. It was a new experience for her, but he didn't seem to mind. Afterwards, they went back to Ezra's dad's house— Ezra's house, technically— for a family dinner, along with Professor Syndulla, who was absolutely beaming as she showed off her engagement ring. Another one of Kanan's family friends, whom Ezra referred to as "Uncle Zeb," was there as well, along with the professor's cat, Chopper, who couldn't be trusted to stay at home alone for a whole afternoon without destroying the place. The game of Ticket to Ride that came out after dinner only had enough pieces for four players, but Ezra and Sabine teamed up so everyone could play— and even with their combined mental resources, they were still no match for Professor Syndulla.

 As they drove back to school, Sabine reminded herself why Ezra had done this. Not a single person at that dinner was related to each other— and yet, they were family— and Ezra wanted Sabine to be part of it too. 

 Maybe this "friendship" thing wasn't so bad after all.

💜.🎮.🧡

 Spectre_pheonix and spectre_6 had been doing collaborative streams for most of the past month. Her fans really enjoyed his commentary on her skills, often leaving comments about how well her dry wit complimented his whimsical sense of humor, and how well they worked together. Both of them gained more followers because of it, which Ezra thought was almost impossible, because how could there have been people on Twitch who weren't already following her?

 "You ever read the comment section?" Ezra asked one day as they were playing Minecraft.

 "Not often. Why?" 

 "Look at these," Ezra said, then read a few of them out loud.

 "That last one is true, at least," Sabine said, and it would've been harsh if he hadn't seen the twinkle in her warm brown eyes.

 "That last one was my roommate," Ezra said, glaring across the room at Jai, who smiled innocently. 

 "Oh, but this one isn't," Ezra said, reading off the latest comment:

 He smiled at Sabine.

 "That's a great question," Ezra said, into the mic so the commenter could hear. "Hey, spectre_pheonix, wanna go out on Friday?"

 Sabine looked at him and smiled. "Sounds like a date," she said.

 "Great," Ezra said, then turned back to his mic, unable to hold back an enormous grin as he said, "Yes, yes we are."

 💜.🎮.🧡

 By all accounts, it should've been weird for them to go out on a date instead of just hanging out and playing video games. It should've been weird when Ezra showed up at Sabine's door, wearing a nice button down shirt instead of her merch, holding a bouquet of purple and orange roses instead of his custom gaming controller. It should've been weird as they sat down to eat something nicer than dining hall pizza or a bag of doritos that ended up half-strewn across the dorm room floor as they blasted away at each other in Halo. It should've been weird when Ezra put on a playlist in the car of the cringiest but most endearing love songs she'd ever heard, and even more so when they found themselves singing along, and it should've been weird when Ezra put his arm around her during the movie and she leaned in closer, and it should've been weird when they walked out of the theater and he put his coat over her bare shoulders without her even needing to tell him she was cold. It should've been weird when, instead of ending the evening with, "so, Terraria tomorrow?" it ended with a couple "I had a great time"s and a delicate first kiss.

 It should've been weird, but it wasn't. It wasn't weird at all that they had more in common than their love of video games. It wasn't weird at all that conversations with him came naturally and being in his presence felt like breathing. It wasn't weird at all that, as soon as she was alone, Sabine found herself leaning back against her dorm room door and sighing dramatically like the heroine of a cheesy romcom.

 It wasn't weird at all. In fact, it was perfect.