#this is so painful when i literally question why i’m not as attracted to men as i am to women

[hana-no-seiiki]

??!?!??

I’m this 👌🏽 close to losing it

so fucken close 💀

[rememberwren]

Practice

About this: certified drabble gone out of hand. best friend!Kyle Gaz Garrick/fem!reader. PIV, fingering, oral (fem receiving). King of your firsts, you ask your best friend Kyle to take your virginity.

Part 1 here.

-

“Kyle?”

“Hm?” 

“Can I talk to you about something?” 

He sucks in a breath, like you’ve asked for something painful. “No can do, honey pie. I’m just here to sit in silence.”

You roll your eyes, though his joke breaks through the ice of your nerves and melts that anxious, frozen part inside you. Kyle’s good at that—putting you at ease. He does it in such easy, flippant ways that you aren’t even sure if it’s being done intentionally. Just another excuse added to the grocery-list-length of reasons why you’re here now, asking him for this. 

“If I had a favor…a big one. Would you do it?” 

He grins, a flash of pale, straight teeth. “That’s totally dependent on the favor. Does it involve burying a body?” 

“No.”

“—because my answer is yes—“

“Would you have sex with me? For my first time.” The mirthful expression drops from his face, all teasing fading away. He turns to you—literally angles his body toward you—to give you his full attention. You do your best to meet his eyes. See, you can make eye contact too. You’re to be taken seriously.  

He blinks placidly and asks: “Why me?” 

“We’ve practiced stuff before,” you begin to recite, though that grocery list of reasons why Kyle would make the perfect party in your brain has suddenly gone frustratingly fuzzy. “You make me feel safe, and I’m—like, really attracted to you.”

His mouth wobbles, threatening to grin. “Yeah?” he asks, playing at unaffected. He runs a hand over his shorn hair and answers for himself: “Yeah.” 

“Kyle. Focus.”

“Okay, okay, how’s this for focus: all those things you just said? Those are things you’ll probably feel for someone in the future. A partner. Somebody you really want to give yourself to. So why do it now with me? Why not wait for it to be real?” he asks. 

It’s…it’s a good question. With a really good answer. But telling Kyle that this is real for you? That’s not an option. So ignoring the obvious, what’s another good reason you could possibly have for not wanting to wait for Mx. Right?  

Kyle’s waiting, watching, brows raised in an smug expression that says, See. I’ve just talked you down from a dangerous ledge. You’re welcome, when you finally settle on the only excuse you can think of.

“Because,” you say, “I wanna feel good now.” 

-

He can get behind that. He can get underneath it, on top of it. Anywhere it wants him—Kyle can get there. Because you deserve to feel good, and there’s nobody in this godforsaken world who deserves to be making you feel good, but Kyle comes close. You chose him, after all, and he thinks that must stand for something. 

He sinks into the mindset the way other men must slip into well-fitting suits; this is tailor-made for him. He’ll give you the princess treatment: dinner, back to his place for wine, then he’ll sip the taste of it off of your tongue and—

At the first sign of his acquiescence, you whip your shirt off over your head and his brain blue screens. 

“Whoa,” he says. He gives himself a solid moment to eat you up with his eyes: your soft curves, your dimples, the bra you’ve chosen with the lacy edges—god, did you somehow know that he’s a sucker for lace? After the moment ends he contents himself to going hungry, scoops up your shirt and hands it back to you. “I didn’t mean now.” 

You frown, pressing your shirt to your chest to protect your modesty. “When, then?” 

“When I have the chance to treat you right,” says Kyle, laying a hand on your thigh, smoothing his thumb along the curve of your knee. “To take you out first. Dress up. Light some scented candles, I don’t know—“

“That sounds like it will take forever,” you grumble. “Can’t we fast forward? Give me a sec.”

Brushing his hand away, you disappear into your bedroom and then the light to the en suite bathroom clicks on. You leave your shirt behind. Kyle’s fingers are drawn to it, feeling the warmth from where it pressed against your skin. He wonders if it smells like you, but Jesus he’s not going to sniff your fucking shirt. He’s not that desperate—

God, it smells good. 

You reappear just a split second after he tosses your shirt back into its place on the sofa, and you set your boon down on the coffee table. It’s a scented candle, blueberry, half burned off. You flick the sparkwheel of the lighter in your hand and tip the candle dangerously sideways to light it. 

“There!” you say cheerfully. “Candles. All my dreams are suddenly coming true.”

“You are a cheeky little brat. You want in my pants that bad?” he asks, just to watch the way your mouth drops, words turning into stuttered syllables. He laughs and pats his lap. “C’mere.” 

You go, kneeling over him. His hips are slim, but it’s still a stretch for you, his hands finding your waist and helping to keep you steady, thumbs smoothing against the bare skin of your belly. He draws you against him in a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His hands run up and down the length of your back, soft and slow, drawing shivers from you. 

“What’re you so eager for, hm?” Kyle wonders. On his lap like this, arms looped around his neck, you have a small height advantage. He pulls back to look up at you, eyes tracing over your nose down to your mouth and back up again, memorizing your features in the dim lamplight. “Don’t even know what you’re missing, do you?” 

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” you murmur, playing with the collar of his shirt. It tickles, but he doesn’t laugh. “Virginity is an outdated concept anyway.” 

“You want it?” 

Your brows raise. “Yes?” 

He’s a bastard for saying: “Don’t sound too sure to me.” 

“I want it, Kyle. Come on, don’t tease me.” 

“Hey—if we do this, you’re in charge,” he tells you, finally relenting against his body’s fervent desire to see his cock harden. You shift on his lap and he has to pause speaking, hands flexing against you. “Whatever you say goes. Whenever you want to stop, we stop. Alright?” 

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”. 

“Tough,” he says. “Those are the rules, honey pie. Take it or leave it.” 

“Can I make my first rule?” 

“I’m all ears.” 

You clear your throat and mutter into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, “Kyle, I want you to be in charge.” 

Kyle’s breath leaves him in a rush. He’s a bad man. He must be, for getting so drunk off of those words. For wanting so badly to be in charge of you and your pretty body, for finding your overwhelming trust in him absolutely heady.

He leans up and kisses you. It’s not the first time you’ve ever kissed, but it’s easily the best. You take it to a hungry place and he doesn’t even attempt to rein you in, just sighs into your mouth and sucks on your tongue, your kisses turning into a heated give-and-take that reminds him of ocean waves he wants to be swept away in. 

You settle more firmly in his lap, fingers stroking up through his shaved hair. Your nails against his scalp makes him groan. The two of you kiss until your mouths are numb, until you have devolved into little thrusts against him, seeking friction. 

When you seem well and truly desperate, Kyle slips his hands up from your hips to cup your breasts, thumbs tracing your skin above the cups of your bra. 

“Take it off,” you gasp against his mouth. “Please Kyle, take it off—“ 

“Pretty pushy for the girl who isn’t in charge anymore.” 

“Kyle!” 

“Alright, alright,” he says, hands tracing around your ribs to the clasp at the back. He undoes it on the first try and mutters under his breath: “Score.” 

“What?” you pant, slipping your arms from the straps. The bra comes off, and tumbles from the couch to the floor, but neither of you pay it any mind. 

Kyle can’t speak. He’s never seen you here before, miles of new flesh on display. Your nipples pucker in the cool air under his stare, and he reaches out to rub the pad of his thumb over one, watching you shudder. When he cups your breasts in his palms he can’t help but think how well they fit in his hands, how every part of you seems molded for him. He’s not going to be able to let you go after this. It’s like being behind the wheel skidding on black ice. He sees the collision course he is on, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. 

“Are you sensitive here?” he asks, thumbing at the hard peak of one breast. 

“Isn’t everyone?” you breathe.  

“No,” says Kyle with a warm laugh. He pinches you softly, attuned to the breath you suck in and the way your body trembles. You are a sensitive little thing, untouched by other hands, and fuck, Kyle’s never had a thing for virgins but he’s got a thing for you, and it threatens to destroy him. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he says, leaning in to nuzzle at the hammering pulse in your throat. He opens his mouth and scrapes his teeth over your collarbone just to hear the way you squeak.  

“Do it,” you whisper, hips grinding down against the hard line of his clothed erection. “Come on, Kyle, you’re all talk—“ 

“Me—?”

“—said I wanted to feel good,” you say. “Why am I still waiting?” 

Well. It’s logic he can’t argue with. 

He urges you off of his lap. “Bedroom.” 

“Alright,” you laugh. 

Just after you stand on shaking legs, Kyle adds: “Race ya.” 

-

Kyle launches himself over the back of the couch in a move that would not look nearly so smooth if you tried, socked-feet slipping on the hardwood as he races toward the bedroom. 

“Kyle, you cheater!” you howl, rushing after him.

“Blow out that candle, it’s a fire hazard!” he shouts behind him, sending you whirling back to the coffee table to huff a breath against the flame. 

By the time you make it into the bedroom, he’s reclined on your bed, ankles crossed, hat resting over his face like he is taking a restful nap. You’d believe it if it weren’t for the erection tenting his jeans. 

“If you’re tired, I can leave you to nap,” you snark, feigning for the door. 

Kyle whips his hat off of his head and tosses it like a frisbee with frightening dexterity. The hard brim clatters against your knuckles and makes you gasp, clutching them against your chest as you stare at him in shock. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Kyle says. He sheds his shirt in that slick little maneuver men have mastered, gripping the back collar and tugging it up and over his head. It reveals a length of dark, soft skin stretched taut over muscle that has your mouth watering. You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times—God, you’ve seen him naked, really, though not all at once—but it never stops having such a heated effect on you. He kneels up and comes to the edge of the bed, sitting on the side, reaching out one hand for you, palm soft and facing up. “C’mere.”

You go to him, taking his hands and lacing your fingers together. He strokes his thumb against yours. 

“You wanna finish undressing me?” he asks. 

“Do you want me to finish undressing you?” 

Kyle stares. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. He gets it; he always does. Standing up, he guides your hand to rest flat against his abs, drawing it downward toward his belt buckle. He says: “Undress me, then.”

Your hands shake as you unfasten his belt. You don’t bother slipping it free of the loops, just let it dangle open while unfastening his jeans. His erection makes that a little more difficult than it might have been otherwise, and every time your knuckles brush against him, he gives little sighs that go straight to your head. 

He’s not wearing any underwear. 

“Gaz you devil.” 

“That’s me,” he says with a warm smile. His fingers find the waistband of your leggings, and it’s his turn to draw them down your legs and let you brace yourself on his broad shoulders while he helps you out of them. With any other man you might have been shy, but there’s no room for it with Gaz. The way he looks at you takes up all that space in your brain for anxiety. He looks at you like he’s seeing artwork, like he wants to pin you to the wall and stare at you for the rest of his life. 

“Bed time,” he says, coaxing you down onto the soft duvet. You shift to scoot back but his hands grip your thighs, fingers denting the soft flesh as he tugs you back toward the edge of the bed in a show of strength that has your heart hammering. He kneels and spreads your thighs. Then he shuts his eyes, muttering under his breath. 

You lean up onto your elbows. “What is it?” 

His eyes flicker open. “In my house we pray before we eat, thank you.” 

“Kyle!”

He’s still laughing when his mouth presses against you. You slip off of your elbows and onto your back, both hands clasped over your eyes as he licks a broad stripe over your folds. Gaz eats pussy with remarkable tenderness, no hint of teeth, all tongue and soft kisses. He lets you hide your face and muffle your noises but draws the line when you try to close your legs with his head still between them. Winding his arms up over your thighs, he pins them open to the bed with his forearms, hands framing your cunt nicely. His thumbs slip in your own arousal when he tries to spread your folds too, and in the end he gives up, burying his face deeper into you to tongue at your entrance. 

He draws back for breath at one point, his pretty jaw smeared with your slick. He sounds winded when he asks: “What do you think, honey? Can you cum like this?” 

You continue covering your eyes with one hand, but the other reaches down to grip at his short hair and guide his mouth back to your clit. He chuckles against you but takes the hint, lapping the flat of his tongue at that aching epicenter of nerves, taking it into his mouth and suckling with sweetness. 

You’re climbing that first peak when he carefully slips his first finger inside you, giving you just enough to whet your appetite. You hadn’t realized how badly you craved something inside you until you had that slender finger to grip, but now you want more. 

“Another, Kyle, please,” you ask. 

He groans, mouth full of you, and shifts on his knees. Pulling back, he guides two fingers into you, easy as anything. “I love your manners. You’re so fucking good, you know that? So good.” 

He stops talking before he can make you uncomfortable—knows the way your chest feels fileted open with any kind of praise or compliment—and gets back to his important work. With his fingers gently working you open and his mouth on your clit, it takes hardly any time for the pleasure to crest, the muscles in your belly tensing as your pleasure draws tight and then snaps clean in two. Your toes curl, groan bitten off as you clamp your mouth shut, pussy spasming around his fingers. He works you through it, dark eyes shut like he’s savoring the taste of you. 

“Can you take more?” he asks, mouth wet, lips swollen. 

Your head bobs in a nod, throat dry from all the sounds you’ve been making. Kyle’s grin is beatific, and he leans down to kiss your closest thigh while he works a third finger into you. This one gives you a pleasant stretch, but there is no pain; you are plenty wet and relaxed. 

“You want me to use a condom?” he asks, smoothing his free hand over your belly to watch the muscles jump and twitch at his soft touch. “You been taking your pill everyday?” 

You roll your eyes. “Jesus, yes, Kyle I’ve been taking my birth control. Do you—?”

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “This one’s on you. Condom or no condom.” 

“Could we—without?” 

“We could,” he teases with a smile. He stands, fingers slipping free from inside you. It leaves you feeling empty, aching. 

You hope that he’ll make you cum again. 

Leaning over you, he plants a hand on either side of you and kisses you, still tasting faintly of where his mouth has been. You loop you arms around his neck, pulling him down until he rests his weight against you, chest-to-chest, your legs hooked around his waist. When he pulls back, it’s just to encourage you higher up onto the mattress so he can follow, finding his home once again in the hollow of your thighs. He says: “Let me know if anything hurts, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, looking up at him. Suddenly it doesn’t feel like there’s enough breath in your lungs. You feel starstruck by him, by the look of concentration on his face as he angles his hips until his tip brushes against your folds. Slowly, he slips inside you, and it’s a fullness you’ve never known from your own fingers or even his. Your eyes fall shut, but your mouth can’t help smiling, beaming practically. 

“Yeah?” Kyle laughs breathlessly. “That good already?” 

You get the giggles. 

“Not the best time to laugh at a man, you might give him a complex,” Kyle says, grinning. 

“All men deserve complexes.” 

“Except for me.” 

“Sure.” 

He sinks in, deeper, deeper until there’s nowhere left for him to go. His forehead brushes against your own, and your eyes open to find his own closed, mouth parted as he pants softly, looking almost as wrecked as you feel. He opens his eyes and catches you looking, but instead of calling you out, he just cocks his head, giving one of his pretty, closed-lip smiles. 

He sets a slow rhythm to start with, and it’s not enough. Your ankles lock around his back, urging him on, fingers scrambling for purchase against the smooth skin of his shoulders. Every thrust drags against the wet, swollen walls of your cunt, and at the apex his pubic bone meets your clit in a touch that’s nearly soft as a kiss. 

“Is it good for you?” you wonder, taking note of his uncharacteristic silence. 

He drops his head to rest in the dark juncture between your neck and shoulder, kissing you there. “Best it’s ever been,” he admits with a little laugh. “Your pussy is perfect. I’m trying not to cum and end things early.” 

You groan. Something about that knowledge makes the heat in your belly rise up to a boil. You clench around him on instinct, and he hisses a breath against your neck, then teases the spot with his teeth. When he’s drawn blood to the surface of your skin, he leans up onto his elbows to admire his work. His mouth is swollen, but he looks unquestionably pleased with himself.  

For a while the two of you continue on like that: his lazy thrusts and mouth leaving bruises on your neck. Bracing himself on one elbow, he takes your hand and kisses your fingertips before guiding it down between you both toward your pussy. 

“Make yourself feel good,” he says. “You probably can’t cum just from this.” 

Your body agrees. He felt good inside you, but it isn’t until you touch your clit that you feel the first tendrils of that addictive heat in your belly. You chase it immediately, eyes falling shut as your fingers work faster. It’s different with him inside you—like there’s no room for the pleasure to fizzle out and die the way it sometimes does at your own touch. Instead he drives you higher, especially as his tight-knit control wavers and his hips drive into you with more force. 

You forget to tell him when you’re close. It creeps up on you, really. All at once your muscles seize, everything focused on that narrow place between your legs and the epicenter of an orgasm that has your back arching until your breasts press flush against his chest. (You hear him suck in a breath like you’ve stabbed him, his voice shaky when he asks: “Are you cumming?” but there’s no breath to answer him with.) There’s no more room for your hand to work but Kyle’s thrusts drag you through the aftershocks. It seems to go on forever, your sounds embarrassing but your brain wiped clean of embarrassment. 

“I’m not pulling out unless you tell me to,” he says once your ears have stopped ringing. He sounds strained, his chest brushing against your nipples with every shallow pant. “So jot that down.” 

“Don’t want you to,” you admit, boneless. “I want to know what it feels like when you cum inside me.” 

Kyle moans quietly. His head drops, forehead resting against your own as his thrusts grow hectic. He mutters the quietest fuck in your ear when he cums, filling you with a rush of wet warmth that turns the sounds of his cock slick and lewd as he works himself through it with your pussy. 

When he pulls out, it’s jarring. You feel so empty. He kneels back on his heels and spreads your thighs to watch his own spend leak from your entrance and says it again, that quiet little fuck that makes you feel invincible. 

Collapsing on the bed beside you, he finds your mouth, cradling your head in one of his hands, turning you to angle your mouth just right for his tongue. 

“You were perfect,” he says when he breaks the kiss. His knuckles skim your cheekbone. “Thank you. For choosing me.” 

You nod, throat suddenly tight. It’s over now, time to return to reality. Except you don’t want it to be over. You don’t want a reality without Kyle by your side or in your bed. How did you think that this would be a good idea? How did you think you could be so intimate with him and just let him go? Stupidly your eyes burn, and he must see something on your face because he rushes to assure you: “Hey, we’re okay. Nothing’s different now, yeah?” 

Yeah, you think dully. That’s the problem. 

[whiteobsidian]

from cyra, to you

My struggle with LOA and how I overcame it.

During the summer (in 2020), around July I read a community post about the law of assumption, then I really did my research and had a better understanding of the law of assumption. It was quite fun and painful, I would read the same posts just to get reassurance that what I was doing was “correct”. Growing up with only listening to instructions made it a bit difficult to transition from the law of attraction to assumption. Though the law of attraction didn’t do  me any good.

When I got into the law of attraction in (last) december it was like a miracle had happened and I could change anything I “disliked” all by listening to some music online. I discovered those videos by accident, and I don’t regret it but I do regret abusing it and myself.  During quarantine + online school I was probably at my lowest point in life, I was depressed and scared and my anxiety had turned severe, especially as a black person during this period. I had also gained weight and my acne was worse than ever, In conclusion : I was insecure. Using subliminals was my escape from that, being so desperate to fit into today's beauty standards , I wasn’t doing myself any justice, I would get angry at the 3d for not showing what I wanted to see. I drank 2 liters of water a day, why wasn’t I getting results? I listened at low volume, why wasn’t I getting results? This mindset did change…. well kinda.

As I wrote earlier, I read a community tab from one of my favorite submarkes talking about how they used the law of assumption to manifest. I was obviously confused, I didn’t even know there were different laws/ ways to manifest. This got me into watching Hyler and Sammy Ingrams videos for a whole day straight. I was fascinated to say the least, and I was even more excited learning that visualization can also help you manifest, since I am a big day dreamer. A few weeks later, I had an instagram account and followed lots of coaches and accounts. I was doing self concept challenges and abundance challenges. I had manifested a lot of new things (clothes, macbook, food) but I wanted something more, something I saw as “BIG”. You might've already guessed : appearance changes.

I didn’t want to change for me, I wanted to change so I would be treated differently, that I would have a better life with prettiness. I had a ugly mindset and this ugly mindset told me I was ugly, I never really thought I was an ugly person before and I'm questioning why I ever thought I was in the first place, I had completely changed and it scared me, I was desperate. I would get mad when I didn't see what i wanted, this led me to repeating the old story over and over again. It took me longer than I expected to get my appearance changed because I had doubts. The 3d is a reflection, a movie of your thoughts. All I needed to do was to change my mindset on how I saw myself. 

Self Concept

Self concept changed my whole view on manifesting and honestly myself.  Your self concept is how you see yourself, how others treat you, how you see the world etc etc, for example if you believe that men or women treat you badly then it's going to reflect your reality. I had a lot of old  thoughts and assumptions that would mold into the 3d. Remember that no one is going to manifest for you, you have to do this yourself, know you are powerful, beautiful, and smart. Nobody can change these beliefs you have set in your mind except you. You need to work on yourself. 

Techniques and Methods

i’m going to put this out now, you DON'T need to do any methods or techniques to get “faster results” do whatever makes you feel comfortable, if you're new to the law of assumption feel free to try any techniques you're interested in, just don’t be pressured to. It's not mandatory to do all this extra stuff, unless you really want to. 

Timing

I know that all of us want our results to come quick, instant even and it is possible, but only unless you truly believe that. Know that your affirming is going to work and that your results are already there, if you are affirming for quick instant results, know that you will get quick and instant results. You don't necessarily have to believe in your affirmation, you just need to believe that what your doing is going to work. If you've been affirming and listening to subliminals for months and you're still “not” getting results it's not the 3d, it's you. 

Why?

You can manifest anything you want, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise but question yourself, why? Especially if it's an appearance change, I hope you're manifesting an appearance change because you're doing it for YOU. Not for validation, or to actually “feel” pretty. You are a powerful being, don't let others determine your self worth or determine who you are. 

Apply

Manifesting is simple, especially in the law of assumption, all you need to do is affirm, persist, and know.

Affirm for what you want 

Persist in that thought over and over

Know that your thought will materialize into the 3d no matter what

STOP over consuming info online, I don’t care if a loa creator posted, I bet you already know what it's about by the title. Stop going on instagram and tumblr just to read things you already know, if you're really that impulsive then delete the apps! Don’t waste all your time for reassurance to see what you're doing is right. There is no right or wrong, just manifest.

Have fun!

Have fun when manifesting, don’t make it seem like it is a chore or it's that pile of homework that's sitting around in your room. Think about it, you can manifest your dream life by just thinking, I want you all to have fun when manifesting, enjoy it! Know that you have everything you want all just by assuming!

Remember, you’re one of a kind <3

with all my love, 

xoxo cyra, 111 222

ps. I did manifest an appearance change (and everything else I wanted), all by working on myself! :)

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

And here's the latest chapter of Scandalous Chemistry!:

January 31st, Friday, 1998

Dear Diary,

Well, it’s been a few literally crazy days, huh? Gretchen and I have made buying gum and going on a Spa Date into missions even my darling Pierce Brosnan wouldn’t dare take!

But what matters is that we’re getting closer and closer! I really feel like we hit a breakthrough yesterday! Gretchen actually liked Ashley stuff! Me stuff! You realize what a TOTALLY schway sign this is?? It means that maybe we really could be besties! AAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Of course, there’s still much work to do, especially on my end! I need to prove I can do Gretchen things tomorrow, when I visit her house and we do some science stuff! I’ll admit, I’m… Sort of, kind of, totally, absolutely, literally nervous about it. Like, what if I find it whack? Or worse, what if I’M whack? What if I hurt her feelings again?! Or what if I’m not open minded enough?! I mean, I want to be, and I still think I did a real fabulous job at the museum, but that doesn’t mean I’ll just ace this!

And I really, really want to, dear diary. I already tried to quit Gretchen, and I just can’t! This friendship means too much to me, it’s like Rachel and Ross, just not romantic! Sabrina and Harvey, just not romantic! Charlie and Kirsten, just not romantic! I don’t know why I keep naming romantic relationships, but you know what I mean!

Point is, Gretchy… Means a lot to me. And even though I’m not exactly sure why, I mean a lot to her, it seems. Why else go through all this trouble for me? So I can’t let her down, especially after she tried so hard at the mall! I just need to get into the right mindset. Ooh, I know! I’ll do, like, one of those meditation mantra thingies!

Deep breath… Science. Nerd stuff. Facts. Learning. Experiments. More science. Molecules. Chemistry. Science 2, the sequel. Wait, no, I said science, this is science 3. Science: The Reckoning. No, Science: The Revenge! You didn’t pay attention at science, and this summer, it’s gonna get PHYSICAL. I should tell that one to Gretchen! I bet she’ll laugh! Hopefully that giggle she does, that’s the best one, the one that sounds like she didn’t mean to let it out, SOOOOOOOO aesthetically pleasing!

Whoops, looks like I rambled about Gretchen again! Sorry, dear diary, that’s been happening a lot! Ugh, I’m SOOOOOO lucky I have you, and your 24k golden lock, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to talk about all this Gretchen stuff! If anyone found out what secret soulmates we are, I’d LITERALLY DIE!

‘You never write in your diary on the way to school. What juicy dirt do we have here, and is “Double Your Lunch Money” too low a price for my fellow students?’, Tyler A hissed conspiratorially, grubby little fingers edging towards the book, shifty little eyes locked in on the gossip…

Outraged, Ashley slammed the book on his fingers, making him yelp in pain while she growled like a wolf on her cheat day from a non meat diet stumbling onto houses of stick and straw. ‘Careful, or I’ll add the mark of Cain to my accessories!’

Britney A, busy chewing on the pencil Ashley had accidentally dropped, grunted out a mouthful of ‘Mommy, Ashley is using the bible to make Tyler suffer, can I too?’. She followed her question by slowly and worryingly raising a makeshift cross marked “Tyler”.

Mrs. Armbruster, for her part, laughed all this off as she cruised her 197 Chevrolet C5 Red Corvette down the mainstreet, gazing out of her window at all the appreciative men, winking and biting her lip just to see what she could make them feel. As they all clearly squirmed in overwhelming attraction, she savored it. Power, pure and simple. Even all her wealth couldn’t buy the power that came with her galaxy spanning confidence. ‘That’s rich, girls! Like me! Tyler, reading a woman’s diary is a sin as despicable as Judas, so if you don’t want me to take away your Tamagotchi…’

‘I’ll be good.’ Tyler muttered, afraid and pissed at his sisters getting away with that. Ashley sniffed importantly, heedless of his suffering. She had far more pressing matters. Speaking of… ‘Oh, mommy, by the way, this week’s sleepover is at Ashley B’s. Would you, like, be able to drive me there? I’m afraid the last few days have totally exhausted me. Tyler?’, she lent out a hand, and the boy begrudgingly handed her a cherry yogurt.

Mrs. Armbruster didn’t look back as she answered, and perhaps it was that mystery that helped coat her real tone. ‘Oh, sorry, junior, but I’m literally SOOOO busy! I have more meetings than the number of dreamy boys on Dawson’s Creek!’

‘Dang, that’s a lot of meetings.’, Ashley A whispered to herself, feeling a little guilty. Gretchen would probably have told her now something about how busy her parents could be, so even trying to picture how busy her own mother was was just… Well, impossible! ‘Oh, aiite, I’m, like, sorry, mommy, I didn’t know.’

‘Now, now, Ashley, don’t fret! There’s a long time until you’re running Armbruster Reality!’, Ashley A Sr. strategically placed pressure onto her daughter’s shoulders, wondering if she was closer to her written out destiny yet. Her ears perked up, not dissimilar to the wolf I mentioned before.

Ashley A, meanwhile, gulped audibly, the concept hitting her like a truck, as it always did. The responsibility of the Armbruster name was entrusted on her shoulders, as the eldest child of the CEO of the biggest real estate business in the Philadelphia Tri-State area. What was she gonna do, let her friends run it? Or worse, Tyler?

But it didn’t make her feel any better when she pictured it: Her, wearing furs like her mother, smoking rings and laughing haughtily at business meetings, selling housing and insurance like a real smooth talker. Could she really live up to such a legacy, when she was befriending a freak… A non-Ashley type behind her family’s back?

Still, she couldn’t let them down. Putting on a brave face, Ashley saluted firmly. ‘WHEN I run it, I’ll be sure to remember that!’

Mrs. Armbruster grinned, giddy at the thought of an early retirement. ‘That’s bangin’ to hear, Ashley! I’ll be sure to tell your father to pick you up when I’m done flossin’ my new mini skirt suit and metallic heels! Like, they’re gonna be the next big trend, you just watch!’

That seemed reasonable to Ashley, so she smiled gratefully, happy that her mother could find the time to tell her father to do what she clearly had no time to do. ‘Business comes first, after all.’, Ashley repeated a worn out family statement, nodding gently, as she slowly glanced down at the photographs she had hidden in her diary, photos she was going to hide in her locker when she arrived.

The booth photos of her and Gretchen.

Thumb stroking the one with soft smiles, she felt a bittersweet pang explode into a brilliant kaleidoscope of uncertainty in her heart. ‘Am I a real Ashley and Armbruster anymore? It’s been so long since I truly enjoyed my old company.’

As the car purred to a stop next to the school, Ashley tried to swallow the lump in her throat and wear a brave face. ‘Today is vital. Today is the day I prove I can have my cake and eat it too. Take that, Thomas, Duke of Norfolk!’

A few minutes later, the first test came, as she opened up her locker to hide the photos.

Ashley’s locker was, well, it was just what you’d expect by now, reading Chapter 24 (excluding Author’s notes): It had all the beauty treatments she could have needed, from a mirror to hairspray to hair mascara to nail polish to lipstick to lip gloss, not to mention eyeshadow; hair bows, ribbons, accessories and clothes replacements if a quick change was needed (or she just felt like spicing it up); glitter stickers, glitter pens, glitter anything, for extra sparkle; pink fuzz all over (including the outside), making it a comfy place to rest her head if needed; liner notes of her favorite Spice Girls and Backstreet Boys songs; an amount of Lisa Frank stickers even Gretchen couldn’t probably count, featuring all her favorite animals in puking glorious rainbow colors; Some of her favorite notes from her friends (mostly some great Ashley B and Q zingers about the gang, which in retrospect, she might have regretted. Was there one of Gretchen? She’d check in a moment); Bath and Body Warm Vanilla Sugar (to smell extra Ashley); Her special backpack (equipped with a million other items, and most importantly, Bear Spice, her teddy); Pink scrunchies (if she ever felt like some sort of pony tail, not that she had the hair for it, or the need, but still); and most importantly, posters and pictures, of all the things and people she loved most: Her and Ashley T belting out Mariah Carey on her karaoke machine; her and Ashley Q giggling like crazy after prank calling some loser (probably Gus or Sue Bob); her and Ashley B strutting on a pretend runway, showing off their designer purses and cool sunglasses. There were also photos of her favorite celebs and shows: Dawson’s Creek, Party of Five, Baywatch, Friends, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Hello Kitty, The Lion King, Hercules, Spice Girls, Backstreet Boys, Leo Dicaprio, Katie Winselt, etc. etc. etc.

No wonder Prickly’s budget was always in the red, when four girls got to have such mega sized lockers.

But there was a new addition, one Ashley A was now installing in secret, whilst searching through her notes for an insult directed at Gretchen. Photos of said girl and her, photos that would expose their lie, unless people fell for the excuse “Oh these are for my cousin, her locker isn’t allowed to have photos in it”.

Her hands were quivering alongside her heart, but she couldn’t help but smile when she stared at the photos, placed below a poster of Simba, Timon and Pumba and next to liner notes to “Anywhere For You” by the Backstreet Boys and a heart shaped necklace. You’d miss it if you didn’t look too deeply, thankfully. Ashley stared at it, like a secret in the middle of her personal paradise, and she couldn’t help but sigh longingly, tiny hearts floating above her. ‘It would literally be so fly if I could have 4 BFF’s…’, she mused in hushed excitement, only to suddenly hear the other Ashleys approaching. Shutting her locker quickly, Ashley whistled the theme to “Dawson’s Creek”, hoping her friends didn’t notice the note in her hands.

‘Ooh, Ashley A, you just gave me a great idea! We should TOTALLY rewatch the second episode of “Dawson’s Creek”!’, Ashley T proposed, sighing wistfully as she thought of all the scandalous moments with the girls in the cast… And the boys that were there too, absolutely, but mostly the girls, which didn’t mean anything, shh. She opened her locker, which was packed to the brim with all her Barbie toys, CD’s, and pictures of Ashley Q. Ashley T had decided to place photos of her fellow Ashley’s once a week, but always forgot to replace the Ashley Q ones. Not that she minded. ‘They’re… Aesthetically pleasing. Why fix what ain’t broke, ya know?’, she lied to herself, as she hummed the wedding march just for kicks.

Ashley Q, quickly opening and closing her locket, lest anyone see her basketball posters and memorabilia among the makeup and magazines, nodded in agreement. ‘And you know what, I think we should also rewatch the latest “Sister, Sister” episode! Since “Baywatch” is the only premiere tonight.’, she suggested, as she painted her nails black and orange, not considering what that hinted at. If she did, it would be too much to bear. This was just a passing fad of hers, nothing more. Just like that time she enjoyed kickball. And just like the time she “got stuck” watching the World Series final game. And just like the time she accidentally attended a Hockey game instead of a figure skating show. And just like the time she only wanted to watch the Super Bowl for the commercials but ended up watching the whole thing. That stuff happens by accident all the time. Totally. Absolutely. Surely.

Unaware of how deep in her comrades were, Ashley B continued their conversation. ‘Seeing as it’s my turn to host, I grant official approval to those ideas, AND to rewatching the latest “7th Heaven” too. I think that will make for quite the adequate preamble to my little… Plan for this Annual Ashley Sleepover.’, B grinned like a cheshire cat as she finger tented like she was an evil yellow octogenarian nuclear mogul.

Ashley Q and T, aware of the plan, both winked at Ashley B, except the former also said ‘Wink!’ while winking and the latter leaned on her locker and then fell, making it open and drop countless photos of Ashley Q. ‘Oh, I’m so clumsy, gosh I have no idea how I got so many of these…’, she muttered, picking them up and hoping her face wasn’t turning to a tomato. ‘Soooooooo out of season.’

Ashley A, totally oblivious to all this, just like how she was totally oblivious to any romantic attraction for or from spectacled geeky girls named Gretchen, simply nodded happily and added ‘Oh, and maybe we can also rewatch the “Sabrina” episode, I thought it was SO funny and…’

‘Yes, we’ll see, anyway, as I was saying, I have many special plans for tonight’s festivities. So many that I do believe we’ll have to skip our “Clueless” viewing…’, Ashley B pretended to be upset (which wasn’t hard, she DID love seeing that movie too), but deep down she knew it was important. She didn’t care if Ashley A’s own mother was sure nothing was wrong, she couldn’t shake the feeling, and she couldn’t truly love her best friend if she didn’t know her best friend was to be trusted.

Ashley A, confused and miffed (‘Gretchen would have at least let me finish my sentence’), held up a finger in questioning. ‘But… But we ALWAYS watch “Clueless”! And besides, the others got to choose episodes…’

‘Ashley A, please. Why get so hung up on semantics when we can get hung up on all the cute boys at Gym? It’s Dodgeball day after all, and I bet they’re all going to be GLI-STEN-ING! Woo!’, Ashley B cried, startling Ashley A. She wasn’t usually THAT boy crazy. Was this just a lie to get something out of her?

‘Look at yourself, Ashley A! So used to lying to your friends, you just assume they are! I wanted to get Gretchen, not lose my other world too! Snap out of it and play along! If you need to make a sacrifice or two, then make them! That’s what FRIENDS do!’, she thought, feeling pretty proud of her dedication. She knew the other Ashley’s would do the same.

Once she left, Ashley Q and T tilted their heads at Ashley B. ‘Hey, um, you never said anything about not watching “Clueless”...’, they both said at the same time.

‘Girls, girls, please… This is for the greater good of the Ashleys! Clearly, something is up with our supposed leader. Maybe it’s nothing that important, but I want to know! None of us want a repeat of “Purple Day”, am I right?’, Ashley B reminded, and the girls nodded resolutely, terrified of such an occurrence.

‘Exactly. So a few small sacrifices are nothing compared to finding out once and for all if Ashley A still deserves to be an Ashley! And we will, once our night of games commences…’, Ashley B snickered evilly.

The 3 all chanted ‘Scandalous!’, but they couldn’t help but feel like one less voice made one big impact…

 

‘Randal!!!!!’, The bellow echoed across the school halls, akin to the shout of an elder god cursing the heavens. Every student at school pricked up, except for The Gang, who were sitting pretty in the cafeteria, enjoying the success of another plan. ‘Goodbye, “Tomato Surprise”, hello, free ice cream!’, T.J. smirked as he happily licked his strawberry flavored popsicle. The rest of the gang all enjoyed chocolate ones, but one was a little less into it than usual. ‘Guys, don’t you think that was a little… Too easy? Where’s Randal slinking his way towards Ms. Finster?’, Gretchen commented, her chocolate popsicle melting over the table. ‘You don’t mind if…’, Mikey started asking, and Gretchen simply handed him the popsicle, which was gone in seconds.

‘Gretch, did that Ashley R steal your ears or somethin’? She’s chewing out Randal! Lucky.’, Spinelli muttered, at that moment the only person in the world wishing she could trade places with the old woman. She bit aggressively into her popsicle, as if it was Randal.

Right on cue, Randal raced past the cafeteria and towards Ms. Finster’s office, looking like he was on death row. The Gang sassily waved him goodbye, minus Mikey (who was a little too nice for that) and Gretchen (who was still kind of suspicious). Finishing her note taking about yesterday’s successful experiment segment (and scrapbooking her copy of the booth photos into the journal), Gretchen sighed and mumbled ‘I’m just saying… Literally sooo suspicious.’

The Gang, eyes as wide as the flying saucers they were sure had abducted Gretchen’s brain, all blinked rapidly and rubbed said eyes. ‘Um, Gretch? Did you say what I think you said?’, Vince asked, seriously lost. Gretchen, as red as her 6th favorite planet, coughed violently and fanned her forehead. ‘Oh, I was just, um… Mocking the Ashleys! Yes! I’m sure Spinelli would approve of such banter and frivolity!’

Spinelli chuckled and fired her finger guns. ‘Finally, some sense!’

‘Yep! Anyway, look at the time! Gym any minute! I can’t wait to get my butt kicked! Physical education, truly the finest of subjects! No offense, Vincent.’, Gretchen reassured, Vince nodding. ‘It’s cool. We’ll catch up with you!’

Once Gretchen was out of earshot, Vince turned worried again, eyeing T.J. with impatient concern. ‘What is going on, Teej? Since when does Gretchen mock anyone?’

‘Hey, are we really not gonna celebrate that our resident geek’s got taste? Now if I could just get her to pound Randal just once!’, Spinelli rubbed her hands in glee, but T.J. was agreeing with Vince. ‘It’s definitely weird, but maybe that’s what happens when you hang out with Ashley R! An Ashley’s still an Ashley!’

‘Well, you know what I think?’, Gus started, sounding surprisingly serious and strategic, as he straightened his glasses. ‘I think that we’re approaching this all wrong. If Gretchen won’t just tell us about Ashley R, she must have a good reason. Let’s be honest: What does that girl have that none of us do?’

‘Fat stacks of cash?’, T.J. asked, rubbing two fingers together like he was a smarmy salesman.

‘Jordans?’, Vince asked, sighing enviously.

‘A passionate and spiritual bond that transcends our simple, prehistoric understanding of companionship? Um, that is, wavy hair?’, Mikey nearly let slip, dreamily imagining his dear friend expressing her true self.

‘The name Ashley? No, wait, that’s my name. Um… Her school! She goes to another school!’, Spinelli snapped her fingers, and the rest all nodded in agreement. ‘Oh, I think she’s on to something!’

Gus, startled, shook his head vehemently. ‘Guys, come on! Look, what’s Gretchen’s DEFINING characteristic?’

‘Excellent hacker for heists?’, T.J. proposed.

‘She’s gigantic!’, Spinelli enthused, half impressed, half envious.

‘Her bleeding heart, the soul of a poet!’, Mikey expressed, appreciative of his friend as ever.

‘Everything…’, Vince drawled, giggling a bit, only to recover and blurt out ‘Um, that is, glasses, she has glasses!’

This time, Gus rolled his eyes AND face palmed. ‘Oh my gosh, guys, SHE’S INTO SCIENCE!’

‘Oh, yeah…’, the rest of the gang slowly nodded, remembering.

‘And… Who else is into science?’, Gus encouraged them, his hands motioning them to come to his conclusion.

25 straight seconds passed until T.J. slapped the desk excitedly. ‘Bill Nye!’

‘ASHLEY R! ASHLEY R IS! DUH!’, Gus shouted, only to take a few calming breaths and sit down in his seat again. ‘Sorry. What I mean is, none of us ever really take an interest in Gretchen’s hobbies! We barely helped her out with that telescope for the eclipse a few weeks ago!’

‘Weeks? That feels like a year and a half almost…’, Mikey mused, but the gang simply continued. ‘Okay, and?’, T.J. asked, unused to Gus coming up with the plan, but intrigued all the same.

‘Well, maybe that’s what Gretch’s been so secretive lately! Ashley R allows her to express a side of herself that she can’t with us! Maybe if we showed her that she can, she’d explain to us what’s been going on, and we can put this whole stupid thing behind us!’, Gus excitedly pitched, nearly falling from the seat he was now standing on, only to be caught by Mikey, who smiled at him and shook his head. ‘So close yet so far…’, Mikey thought to himself.

‘Okay, but how? Do we go to her house and do… Science stuff?’, Spinelli voiced, confused at the proposition.

‘Basically, yeah.’, Gus replied, proud of his plan, eyes closed in satisfaction.

‘I guess that could work…’, T.J. slowly muttered, considering it. ‘I mean, anything to help out Gretchen, no?’

‘Absolutely!’, Vince and Spinelli roared in approval, while Mikey sighed, wishing they’d move on from this arc and onto the “Gretchen being cute with her girlfriend” arc. ‘What’s it gonna take for me to see some romance in this place?’, he thought, only for thundering footsteps to be heard, as Penny Bly breathlessly reached them, hair looking all out of place. ‘Thank god I caught up with you! I just saw Gretchen walking towards the gym, and I wanted to know if you want me to spy on her! Normally I wouldn’t ask, but then I thought you guys would be all high and mighty and say…’

‘No, Penny. Like we told you yesterday, we don’t want to spy on Gretchen again.’, T.J. rejected her offer with clear disdain, while Spinelli prepared her fist. Penny gulped, shaking instinctually.

‘But…’, Vince lifted a finger, smirking mischievously. ‘Ooh, a Vince plan! Hit me, buddy!’, T.J. enthused, intrigued by what Vince had to offer.

‘Well, you know, the Ashley’s Annual Sleepover is this Friday.’

‘Yeah, they never shut up about it.’, Spinelli grunted, clenching her fist harder.

‘Yeah, and remember who Ashley R is related to? Ashley A! Despite all our investigating, we still don’t know if we can trust that girl, or if she’s being forced to work for her jerk of a cousin! I’m still not ruling out “Ashley brainwashing”.’, Vince explained, crossing his arms in annoyance. How DARE they touch his… Their Gretchen.

Penny, loving this idea, nodded like a bobblehead and pointed at Vince with her pen. ‘Yes, yes! Excellent thinking, LaSalle! There’s more than one web in this twisted tale of treachery!’

‘Now, we don’t know if it’s treachery…’, Mikey reminded, worried for his friend’s secret. That Penny seemed hellbent on discovering such things. He had no idea if she was the ethical kind of journalist!

‘Treachery or not, we need to know.’, T.J. insisted, and with a curt nod shared with Vince, he turned towards Penny. ‘If you really want to help us out, then go to the Ashley’s sleepover and get all the information you can. Then, we’ll trust you.’

Saluting, Penny slinked back into the shadows. ‘You got it, Detweiller! Penny Bly, out!’

Reaching towards the vents, she crawled in and left them in silence.

‘...Yeah, that’s Library Kid’s big sister all right.’, they all finally commented, continuing to enjoy their ice cream.

 

Later, at the gym, the kids were sorted into two separate teams for Dodgeball (coach’s favorite torture method).

But whenever have Ashley A and Gretchen let the rules get in their way?

(Mortal Kombat Movie Theme)

‘Ugh, I can’t believe Dodgeball is mandatory, even for us Ashleys.’, Ashley A groaned in frustration as she screamed and ducked from a ball, her custom made pink gym clothes already covered in sweat from that little physical exertion. ‘Eww! I don’t get what Ashley B likes about this stuff, I feel like I got slimed by crying mangos!’

‘That might be the grossest thing I’ve heard in my life.’, Gretchen replied, wearing a simple white jersey with a sweatband and shorts. She looked about as out of place as the music sounded. ‘Well, that and this song. Miyamoto above, Mortal Kombat is a blithering bane of banality.’

‘Yes, I totally know what that means.’, Ashley replied with an eyebrow raise, prompting Gretchen to sigh. ‘Curse my superior vocabulary. Let me translate to Ashley: Talk to the hand because I’d rather play Pat a Cake with Ms. Finster and Randal.’

Ashley shivered, getting the message. ‘That’s gonna haunt my nightmares.’, she then scratched her head in confusion. ‘But isn’t that, like, a video game? I thought you liked those!’

Gretchen shook her head as she just about leaned to the side to avoid an oncoming ball, that struck Upside Down girl and brought her right side up. ‘I don’t like EVERY video game! I mean, do you like every Ashley thing?’

Ashley had to admit she had a point. ‘Not… Anymore.’, she muttered, realization sinking in, as a ball came towards her. ‘Ashley, six o’clock!’, Gretchen cried, and Ashley giggled, shaking her head at Gretchen. ‘Silly Gretchy, it’s just after one o’clock!’

Groaning, Gretchen grabbed Ashley and pulled her down, the ball sailing over and knocking Randal out cold. ‘Nice.’, Gretchen and Ashley both whispered, with the former taking off her glasses. ‘Careful, they can’t see us together. Here, take mine and pretend you’re Ashley R.’

Ashley nodded and took the glasses, now seeing nothing. ‘But how are you going to see the balls coming?’

‘Use your ears and listen.’, Gretchen instructed, and Ashley did so. Hearing a whistle, she pushed Gretchen to the left and held out her hands in hope, grabbing the ball.

The coach whistled, smirking. ‘Nice catch, Ashley A! Oh, wait, you’re the one with the glasses, Ashley R! Nice catch, Ashley R! Hey, where did Ashley A go?’

Ashley and Gretchen gulped, only for Ashley B of all people to come to their rescue. ‘She must have DODGED this lesson! Ha! That’s more like it! A point in her favor.’, Ashley B marked it down in a notebook, having allowed herself to be eliminated first so she could lie down on the bench and get pampered by an army of boys crushing on her. ‘Keep fanning, I’m exhausted from all this physical education!’

Ashley and Gretchen sighed in relief, then got up and kept on dodging. ‘Your left! Wow, look at us, huh? We’re a real team!’, Ashley cried, and Gretchen ducked, hurting her knee on the floor. As she wheezed, she brought Ashley down, crying ‘Duck!’, then nodded. ‘Yeah. All it takes is listening.’

Ashley pouted, feeling heavy all of a sudden. ‘If only it could always be, like, literally that simple.’

‘I mean, it is. It’s dodgeball. It’s pretty whomping stupid. Why else do you think Coach likes it?’, Gretchen explained, feeling like that was pretty obvious.

Ashley, however, pressed on with her fears. ‘No, Gretchen, I mean… Ugh, never mind, okay?’. She crossed her arms, while Gretchen helped her up and slapped a ball away from her face. ‘Take two steps to the right. Now, what’s up?’

‘What do you mean, what’s up? The ceiling?’, Ashley said with a hint of edge, but Gretchen ignored it and stepped closer to her, only for Ashley to push her back. ‘Ball your way.’, she explained, and Gretchen ducked again. ‘Well, Ashley… Quick, jump up. Well, because you always pout and cross your arms when you’re REALLY upset. And your whole body gets all heavy, you lose all your ridiculous amounts of energy. I don’t need glasses to tell by now.’

Ashley sighed, jumping over a ball. ‘Okay, you got me. I can’t lie to you. Just like I can’t… Oh, wait, come over here. Just like I can’t lie to myself. I’m worried about the Annual Ashley Sleepover today.’

‘Is it because it’s at Ashley B’s? I concur, that’s like stepping into the lion’s den.’, Gretchen agreed, as the two made a chain with their hands and pulled each other back and forth depending on where the ball was.

‘Well, that doesn’t help, but it’s more than that, Gretchy! I just… I think The Ashley’s are STILL suspicious I’m frontin’, even after yesterday! And worse, Ashley B still seems really down to frown at me! This party’s supposed to be off the hook as always, but I’m worried it’s gonna be lame! Lame because somehow we’re STILL not the way we used to be and all that!’, Ashley explained, spiraling further into a teary rant. She could feel her eyes begin to water. Any minute and she’d tarnish Gretchen’s glasses with her stupid selfish feelings.

Gretchen, sympathetic despite her own problems, tried to offer a silver lining. ‘Now, now, let’s not short circuit, Ash! Maybe you’re just being paranoid! It’s been a while since you felt truly comfortable with The Ashleys, just like my friends and I! Maybe we need to use this break from the friendship experiment to reaffirm our old friendships too! After all, it’s not like we’re only gonna rendezvous with each other!’

‘That’s true…’, Ashley admitted, slapping a ball away from Gretchen. ‘Plus, I’m kinda fiendin’ for the B household grindage. She can bulk order Kid Cuisine and Bagel Bites! My dad at least insists on cooking once in a while, her parents don’t care!’

‘I’ll admit, that sounds more concerning for her family situation than cool, but hey, whatever floats your boat.’, Gretchen smirked, dipping her away from the ball. ‘See? You’re already excited! Plus, I bet you can gossip and watch TV and, um, compare nails? Whatever you girls do at a sleepover.’

‘Heh, heh, we compare nail polish, Gretchen, not nails! But you’ll learn that soon enough next week…’, Ashley smirked, and Gretchen gulped. ‘Don’t remind me. I’ll have less stressful trips to the surgeon's room.’

Ashley giggled, and instantly, Gretchen felt better. She hated seeing Ashley like this. Their friendship wasn’t supposed to ruin all the other ones! As they rose up, she squeezed her hand in solidarity. ‘We both need this. Let’s make the best of it, huh? No need to get all worried about lies and cover stories and whatnot. Just you, me, and our old friends. Except, you know, we’re not gonna see each other, but you get it.’

‘Which is a shame! I have to wait a WHOLE day to see this secret project of yours? How did you even get any work on that this week?’, Ashley grinned, impressed, and Gretchen couldn’t help but brag a little, enjoying the attention. ‘Oh, I have my ways, Ms. Richter.’

Ashley’s grin slowly shifted into a grateful smile. She squeezed back. ‘You’re right. I’m literally overthinking this. I’ll just take a chill pill and raise the roof in that crunk. And you do the same, girlfriend! Live up that unpopular life! I wanna hear all about how happy your loser… I mean, cool friends make you!’

‘Now there’s the Ashley I know! Blindly optimistic in front of the rules of physics!’, Gretchen cracked, though she also smiled appreciatively at Ashley’s words. She really hoped this would work, she missed her friends and wanted a break from lying to them. Ashley nudged her. ‘The rules of physics ain’t got nothing on Gretchley!’

‘Gretchley?’, Gretchen questioned, confused. Ashley was quick to explain. ‘It’s like, our names together! Gretchen plus Ashley, Gretchley!’

‘Ah, like a team thing?’, Gretchen nodded, understanding. ‘Yeah!’, Ashley explained, happy Gretchen was accepting it. ‘Where’d you get that from? I never heard of that.’, Gretchen asked, curious. ‘Oh, I heard someone use it for those two from that dumb X-Files thing, I thought it was cute!’

Gretchen, well aware of what that term now meant, decided that dying in a gymnasium from being given a shipping name by her totally platonic friend would not be ideal for her plans that weekend, and so, just pretended she didn’t hear anything. Suddenly, they heard Gus cry out next to them ‘Stop holding hands and move aside, rookies!’. As the duo blushed a little at how long they held hands, Gus rose up and spiked a ball right towards Ashley Q, who was busy talking to Ashley T and spiking it back without looking. Gus roared to the song’s tune and hit back, and Ashley Q responded with another strike back. The two hit the ball back and forth over and over while the rest of the gym just stared in confusion at this unlikely final, outside of Ashley T and Cornchip Girl, who were very much enjoying the spectacle. ‘What a man!’, Cornchip Girl fanned herself. Ashley T covered Barbshley’s eyes. ‘Lord forgive me for my unholy thoughts, I’m just… Practicing for when boys… Do that. Gulp.’

‘...Yeah, perhaps we’d all benefit from a break.’, Gretchen voiced, as Ashley nodded. ‘Damn, skippy.’

 

Later that day, before the sleepover but after school, Ashley B had much to arrange at her house.

So she sat in her bed and had Menlo do it.

‘Did you arrange last minute details on the landline?’, Ashley B asked with her back to Menlo, busy arranging something.

‘Yes, Ashley B…’, Menlo started, frustrated as he climbed up the stairs, only to be interrupted by Ashley B, who chided him like a mother. ‘Ap, ap, ap!’

‘...Yes, President Ashley.’, Menlo gagged out, shivering like he just said a forbidden word. ‘What would my dear Ashley A think?’

‘Ashley A better get used to it like you. Because even if she DOES prove herself today, I am far more fit for the presidency. I don’t need to constantly prove I can be trusted.’, Ashley B reminded, still fiddling with something Menlo couldn’t see.

As he sighed and placed spice girl plates full of creme savors, face twisters sour candy dough, crazy dips, spray candy, fun dip and pop qwiz down on Ashley B’s mega tea party set (pink table, chairs, saucers, etc.), he couldn’t help but voice a niggling question that bothered every wrinkle of his brain. ‘...Why?’

‘Why? Why what?’, Ashley B asked absent mindedly, getting her special fit for the party ready and trying out each accessory in front of her personal mirror. She was going to out glamor Ashley A or die trying.

‘Why does she have to prove herself?’, Menlo asked, arranging the Cosmopolitans by date. He was STILL Menlo. ‘Didn’t she already do so? I remember you were pleased with how she handled the project with Gretchen, not to mention you wouldn’t stop bragging about how your Annual Ashley Sleepover two weeks ago was the best one ever. Why does she need to prove herself again?’

‘You mean, besides the fact that you were dressed like her in her room?’, Ashley B’s reply was laced with impatience and venom, and Menlo instantly regretted protesting in Ashley’s defense, but B still provided an answer. ‘You can deny it all you want, Menlo. Something is up with her. I don’t know what, and maybe yesterday was a fluke. But I’m a lot smarter than people think. I’m second in command for a reason.’

Suddenly, Ashley B’s father and mother, both pacing back and forth outside the room, constantly yapping on their phones about work meetings, looked into the room for a moment. ‘We’ll be out all night, Armbruster Reality first quarter planning sessions. Brittney and Tyler are with friends. You’re fine on your own, right?’

Before Ashley B could answer, the parents took it as a yes and began to depart. As if possessed, Ashley B suddenly raced towards them and blocked their way to the stairs. ‘Hey, um… What do you think of my new look? For the party? Pretty fly, huh?’

‘It’s great, Ashley.’, they remarked, marching downstairs like two robots on the run. The echo was obscene, ringing across the practical mansion of a house like volcanic eruptions. Everything in the house was remarkably clean, shiny, pristine and untouched. The dinner table didn’t even have chairs next to it, and there was a disturbing lack of family photos. To all intents and purposes, this was a ghost family. Here, Ashley B held no position. The Ashleys clubhouse was different. There, you’d know Ashley B existed.

Ashley B stood there for a moment, fists clenched so violently you could have sworn she’d explode, before marching back into her room and to her other project: a huge Polly Pocket collection with 4 specific houses that bore striking resemblances to her and the Ashleys. ‘...I’m second in command for a reason.’, she repeated, as if under a spell, and Menlo wasn’t sure if pressing on was wise, so he decided not to.

They worked a little more in silence, while Ashley B focused specifically on her and Ashley A’s lockets, positioning the two little dolls next to each other. ‘Ashley A, I know you must be fed up with me by now. I’m sure you think I’m some… Some power hungry scrub. But I’ve worked SOOO hard to get to where I am, to earn my place on the Ashleys, and it’s all thanks to you. You held me to high standards and got the best out of me. I’m just… Returning the favor.’

In Ashley B’s mind, she was truly doing the right thing. In Ashley B’s heart, she felt a void, a void not filled since Purple Day. Call it best friend intuition, but she knew that Ashley A was… Different. Perhaps that different wasn’t a bad thing. Perhaps she was just going through some… Phase!

But phase or not, understandable or not, even if she came across like some greedy, selfish bitch, Ashley B knew that one fact reigned supreme, one fact made her life worth it, made this big empty house worth it, made this big empty family worth it…

‘Ashleys literally before all.’, Ashley B whispered, as she stared in hopeful desperation at her notebook, taping Ashley A’s doll onto it as a prison till she proved worthy of escaping, stuck underneath a headline simply titled “Ashley Trials”.

 

‘So, to recap…’, Penny asked, jotting words down a mile a minute like she was faster than the speed of light. One could tell writing was a passion, alongside sneaking around for a story. One would have thought Penny had tickets to Disneyland. ‘While you 5 go to Gretchen’s to work your “Special Interest theory”...’

‘I prefer Operation: Hobby-steria, but you do you.’, T.J. commented, leaning on a street lamp. The kids were in the middle of the street, with the orange afternoon sun casting shadows all over them. It was like a scene out of a shady western.

‘I will shadow the Ashleys to the party and listen in to the whole thing with my “toys”...’, Penny chuckled conspiratorially, revealing her bugs and lockpicks. She wiggled them around her fingers like a yo-yo.

Mikey sighed, clearly doubtful about this plan. ‘Isn’t this worryingly similar to what Richard Nixon did?’

‘Didn’t he do the V-sign? That means peace, that’s good, no?’, Spinelli asked, missing the point. ‘Yeah, I’m not a crook!’, T.J. impersonated, making her laugh and nudge him.

Mikey sighed, emotions swirling around his stomach, as he clutched it. ‘It just don’t feel right. Not even to the Ashleys. It’s one thing to spy on them when we know they’re doing something wrong, but they’re just having a sleepover! We don’t even know if Ashley R will be there! Plus, she sounded, um, quite trustworthy!’

‘And what makes you think that?’, Vince asked, crossing his arms. ‘Where’s your evidence, man?’

‘That’s what I gay, I mean say, okay?’, Mikey protested, holding his real reasons back as much as he can. ‘Big Guy, I get it, honest, but sometimes you gotta bend the rules a bit for your friends! Think of all the times we’ve broken school rules! This is for Gretchen, not for ice cream or balls!’, Gus reminded, patting his friend’s back. ‘I know that, Little Guy, but…’, Mikey protested again, before Penny (desperate to keep the operation going) grabbed his hand and tightened it hard, like a handshake of life or death importance. ‘Mikey, look at me.’

Mikey did, and he was startled by the steely determination in Penny’s eyes, mixed in with something curiously innocent, the moral code of a well meaning child. ‘There’s nothing I value more than exposing the truth. If Ashley R is innocent, then I will see to it that your friends come to terms with that fact. But if something is afoot, I will sniff it out with no discrimination.’

Something about the promise felt true and genuine, and despite his brain’s worries, his gut feeling told him that deep down, Penny could be trusted. With a slight nod, Mikey allowed her to try. ‘Okay. I’ll trust you, Penny.’

Penny nearly opened her mouth when hearing her name, but stopped herself. With a salute, she squirreled away, riding on a bicycle towards Ashley B’s house.

And with a curt nod shared, the gang began walking over to Gretchen’s house, hoping to finally crack the mystery of her heart.

 

Ashley had never understood the term “Butterflies in my stomach”. First of all, how did they get there? They only lived for one day! Secondly, butterflies were too cute to ever be somewhere as gross as the human body!

Most importantly, Ashley didn’t get nervous. Nerves were for losers with no class or style. An Ashley had to control every room she walked in, to be the center of attention. You couldn’t do that if you were afraid of said attention!

And yet, for the first time in her life, Ashley felt this strange and worrying sensation, as her father drove her ever closer to Ashley B’s house. It was almost 17:00, and the sun was beginning to set. Soon, all of the town would be bathed in the inky night, except for the Annual Ashley Sleepover, that would only be cast with shadows of deception.

Ashley hated this nervous feeling, it felt so… UnAshley. This was supposed to be fun, like Gretchen had said. She looked forward to all the activities they’d be up to. What was wrong? What was off?

Mr. Armbruster, overhearing her small, nearly imperceptible whimpers of concern, smirked and made his voice deeper to sound like he was landing a plane. ‘Um… Attention, passengers, this is your, urrrrr, captain speaking… On your left you can see houses featuring background characters no one cares about… ummm… On your right you can see the Boulet residence, our final destination, where you’ll find the lovely Ashley Armbruster situated for tonight. Make sure to fawn over her and maybe you’ll be blessed with a smidge of her beauty.’

Ashley perked up, and couldn’t help but smile, rolling her eyes affectionately. Her daddy was always finding silly ways to make her smile. Usually she didn’t pay much attention to it, but now? Now it was worth its weight in gold.

Opening her car door and slinking out like a cat (fittingly enough, considering who was napping in her backpack), Ashley turned back to her father, who had lowered the window for her to speak, and with a voice uncharacteristically quiet, whispered ‘Thanks for driving me, daddy.’

A simple sentence, really. Ridiculously simple. And it spoke to the problematic Armbruster family dynamic that such a phrase was so very rarely heard.

But for Xavier (who was doggone tired from a long day at work, and was unfortunately going to have to drive back for the first quarter meeting), those words worked better than any cup of coffee.

‘You enjoy yourself, princess, okay? These are the best years of your life, with the bestest friends you’ll ever have. Live it up for me, will ya?’, he asked, softly, and Ashley nodded, even giving him a little kiss on the forehead.

Waving goodbye (as did sleepy Ashley M from the backpack), Ashley A took a deep breath and stared up at the Boulet mansion, a green two story house with trees as far as the eye could see. It was so large and imposing, you could only just about see the beginnings of the moon hide behind the shed. Ashley thought of what Gretchen and her father said, and determined to make the most of it, stepped onto the patio and rang the doorbell, that echoed like church bells on mass. Dingggg, donggggg, dinggggg, donggggg… Dinggggg, donggggg, dinggggg, dongggggg…’

So enamored she was with the sound that Ashley didn’t notice the door open, until Ashley B cleared her throat loudly, eyes glazing in annoyance.

Ashley, startled by the sudden sound, jumped, as did Ashley M from out the backpack, landing on the girl’s head, both laughing nervously. ‘Heh, heh… Sorry, Ashley, I was just distracted by your door bell. It sounded SOOOOOOO nice!’, she tried complimenting, sure that it was a very adult thing to compliment.

Ashley B, however, simply got more annoyed. ‘I’ve had that doorbell my entire life.’

‘...Just goes to show how much taste you had even as a baby!’, Ashley A tried to save, her smile growing more and more awkward, as she swung her fist from one side to the other to emphasize the taste.

Ashley B sighed, shaking her head. ‘WhatEVER. Let’s just get this party started, girl.’

Taking this as an invitation to enter, Ashley wiped her shoes on the mat (just in case) and strolled in, amazed as always by how wide and all encompassing Ashley B’s house was. To her, it looked like a palace out of a fairytale, the white decor nearly blinding.

So was Ashley B’s ensemble: Alongside an absolutely sparkling honey yellow dress with bumblebee earrings, she was sporting pretty butterfly clips in her hair, shiny black platform shoes that made her seem taller than any of the Ashleys, and a sequined belt that glimmered like 500 suns encrusted with diamonds. Ashley had to block her eyes at first, so taken aback by the look. ‘Like, shut up, girl! You look LITERALLY Milano! Literally!’

‘Thank you, thank you. It is quite the SCANDALOUS look.’, Ashley B took the praise, but focused back on her mission immediately. She could value the praise later. ‘Now, until Ashley Q and Ashley T arrive, make yourself comfortable, treat yourself to our state of the art Diet Coke fountain.’

Ashley gawked at the fountain, a new addition to B’s reportraire. She happily scooped up some with a ready glass engraved with Ashley B’s face, and savored the flavor, making happy humming noises. ‘That’s SO yummy! I think I can taste my dentist’s disapproval!’

‘15% more industrial. We Boulet’s have high standards. It’s how one survives in this cutthroat business.’, B explained with a smug grin, stabbing a barbie kitchen knife onto the table (the knife falling flatly on the side). Smirking, she whispered to the still drinking Ashley ‘Make the most of this rest, A. My plans are gonna make this an unforgettable sleepover, and you need to be at your peak Ashley performance.’

This gave Ashley pause, and she stopped drinking greedily to voice her concerns. ‘Um, yeah, like, about that? I was wondering… What ARE those plans? I’m sure they’re TOTALLY schway, but you know, a girl likes to be prepared.’

Ashley B grinned maliciously, sending a shiver down Ashley A’s spine. ‘That’s for me to know and for you to find out. But don’t worry…’, she remarked, as she left the table and looked back menacingly, snapping her fingers. ‘A proper Ashley would pass this with her eyes closed.’

With that, Ashley B retreated to the kitchen to prepare some things, while Ashley A now found herself very small and alone in the gigantic living room, surrounded by a whole lot of white nothingness, and a diet coke fountain that was suddenly less enticing.

As if to answer her scared shaking, Ashley M climbed out of the backpack and meowed at Ashley A, who bit her lip in fear and whispered like she was hiding from a monster. ‘Ashley M, baby, listen: I think Ashley B is trying to prove my loyalty again. We don’t know what she’s capable of, and honestly… I don’t know if I can do it alone.’

Ashley M instantly saluted, ready to help, and Ashley A smiled slightly and rubbed her head in appreciation. ‘Thank you, Muffin.’

Shifting into a serious stare, the two conspiratorially planned their survival. ‘Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll take on her silly game, while you warn me each time of what’s gonna happen. If you think it’s too much for me too handle, or you see me struggle, then rush over to Gretchen’s house. It isn’t far from here, thankfully.’

Ashley M nodded curtly, and sneakily prowled towards the kitchen, ready to find out what Ashley B’s twisted mind was concocting.

Ashley A, meanwhile, took another swig of diet coke, feeling the total opposite of relaxed and “living it up”. ‘I knew this was a bad week to quit.’, she voiced, taking a bubblegum cigar and puffing on it as if it were a real one.

 

‘So, are we all clear on the plan?’, Gus asked, still surprisingly in charge, as the gang marched down the street, Gretchen’s house in their sights. Opening the fence and letting everyone through first, Mikey nodded, albeit reluctantly. ‘Oh, I’m clear. We’re emotionally manipulating Gretchen by feigning interest in her area of expertise, you know, something she’s probably been secretly hoping for for years.’

‘I’d word it a lil nicer…’, T.J. remarked, struggling to deny that that was what it was in a nutshell. Pure motivation or not, they were still using dirty tactics. Was this a new thing for them? No, no it wasn’t. But it was hard not to at least feel a bittersweet taste to the whole sordid affair.

‘I’d word it “necessary”. If we’re Gretchen’s friends, then we have to do everything in our power to find out if something is wrong with her. If she won’t be straight with us, why should we be straight with her?’, Vince countered while stepping across Gus to take the closest spot to the door, his words oddly prophetic all things considered.

‘Guys, are we still debating this? We all agreed Gretchen’s been acting all coco for coco puffs lately! We absolutely HAVE to investigate this! If that means a little acting, so what, big deal! Gretchen would know that it came from a good place.’, Spinelli doubled down, looking back for a moment. She was expecting Randall to pop up, but he wasn’t there… Yet.

Mikey sighed and rolled his eyes, displeased with his friends activity, but too non confrontational to go any further in protest. He stuck to a simple crossing of his arms. ‘I’m just saying, what if Gretchen wants to keep this private?’

‘Why? You know anything?’, Vince asked, suspicious of his friend suddenly, raising an eyebrow and staring him right in the eyes. Mikey averted his gaze, worried his cover would break.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded, and everyone turned to Gus, who shook his head at them, steely and serious. ‘Guys, focus! We’re here to help a friend, not turn on each other!’

Vince eased up, instantly filling with shame. Why had he jumped like that? ‘Sorry, Mikey.’, he said, leaving the rest unspoken.

Mikey didn’t need to hear it. He simply nodded. ‘It’s cool, Vince.’

Everyone now prime and ready, Gus flashed a thumb’s up and knocked on the door.

Gretchen, who had spotted them earlier from her window, was already at the door, grinning from ear to ear. It had been a while since anyone had seen her THAT happy, at least, anyone whose name didn’t start with A and end with Shley Armbruster/Richter. ‘Greetings, friends!’, she beamed, her feet beginning to descend to the yard below. ‘What’s on the agenda? Did you bring your frisbee, Vince? Because I was considering some modifications to soup it up a little for you! I read this fascinating article in Metal and Wood about how the likelier a head injury, the more fun one has…’, the scientist ranted, only to be stopped by Spinelli, who shook her head.

Confused, Gretchen swiveled her head back to T.J, who elbowed Gus, reminding him it was his plan. Gus, suddenly shrinking a little, attempted to cough out the pitch. ‘Oh, um… Well, you see, Gretchen, the gang and I were just thinking about, um…’, he trailed off, and realizing he needed help, T.J stepped in. ‘About HOW we do all kinds of things, but we don’t really do YOU things, you know?’. Gus, relieved, nodded enthusiastically, subtly fist bumping T.J. ‘Yes, exactly, that! You things!’

‘Me things?’, Gretchen tilted her head, confused at first, only to understand, as she snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue. ‘Oh, of course! You mean my scientific endeavors, right?’

Vince, who was smiling a little too hard, flashed a thumb’s up. ‘Uh huh! I mean, you’re part of the gang, right? We’re supposed to respect every group member’s interests! I personally think that it’s really, um, wizard, how you’re a woman of science and stuff.’

Gretchen blinked at that adjective, long enough for Spinelli to push her back into the house. ‘So why not show us that ol’ lab of yours, huh? Any cool projects you got going on? Any that involve violence? Because that would actually be intere…’, she began, only for T.J to shake his head violently, making Spinelli stutter and rephrase. ‘That is, um, that would be… Surprising! Since you’re not really that cool VIOLENT… I meant violent!’

Gretchen shrugged, confused. ‘Since when are you this obsessed with hurting people?’

‘I haven’t given Randall a good beatdown in ages, okay? I’m in withdrawal, gimmie a break.’, Spinelli explained, shuffling her feet. Perhaps she was just feeling a lil bad about lying. This was so much easier on TV, when it was obvious who was the good guy and bad guy. Why couldn’t life be more like WWF?

Moving on from that, Gretchen stared at the gang, who were all smiling widely, except for Mikey, who just seemed kinda down, and bit her lip, uncertain at this odd display. ‘Since when do they care? They don’t really find my gadgeteering interesting. Not that I’m complaining, but this is sort of out of the blue.’, she thought, measuring the possibilities, only to remember her own advice for Ashley. ‘What am I, a hypocrite? My friends are being nice, and here I am, suspecting the worst! Especially after all the lying I have done, what place do I have to consider other motives? No, no, I said I’d have fun, and I will!’

Playing up the part a little to truly get into it, Gretchen put on a big smile again (just with more effort needed) and waved onto the stairs. ‘I’d be honored to share my latest works with my dearest companions! Free admission, just try not to ruin the carpet!’

Making up the rear of the group, Gretchen’s smile grew a little more genuine. ‘I sure hope Ashley’s getting this lucky!’

 

Meanwhile, outside of Ashley B’s house…

(to the tune of “In the Hall of the Mountain King” by Edvard Grieg)

Penny Bly, armed head to teeth with notebooks, cameras, lockpicks and chicken liver and onion omelets (hey, a person gets hungry) crawling from one bush to the next, from one tree branch to the next, sang aloud to a theme song she cooked up for herself just a few hours earlier, as she got closer and closer to her target destination:

“I was born to chase a lead,

I’m a sly, sneaky stead.

Except I’m not a horse

But you must know what I mean!

At the paper office, yes

Where I work, but I digress

I expose, dirty lies,

That harm democracy!

Call me smarmy, call me snitch,

Call me a dirty, rotten bi…Stitch

Cool it, dude, I’ve got the ‘tude to blow up this whole sitch!

So I’m slimy, all alone,

I’ll be read, tome to tome

I’ll win ya over, like Augustus won over Rome (I’m smart, see?)

Love isn’t shared, it’s earned

Got no wings? Just twist and turn

Be the one to spoil the fun and laugh as it all burns!

This is it, this my chance, this my moment to entrance

Fear the truth? No, Fear the sleuth

Penny’s gonna dance!

Fear the truth, no, fear the sleuth,

Penny’s gonna danceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

And just as she finished singing, she swung from one branch, missed the next, and smacked into the mirror, smearing over it as Ashley A drank her diet coke sadly.

Despite the pain, she still managed to cheer for herself. ‘Yay… Penny’s number one, baby…’

Fainting onto the ground, Penny quickly got up and set up her spy equipment, starting off with a simple listen in from the window. ‘Let’s see what our sound quality is like…’, she muttered, straining her ears. Unfortunately, she could barely make up any words, unless Ashley A had had a stroke, of course, and had said ‘Flicka bliga smagga wagga ding dong’.

‘I guess it’s not very… Sound.’, Penny joked, suddenly pushing a button on her boombox, which played a laugh track. ‘I told her it was a SOUND investment!’, she quipped again, pushing the button once more. ‘Yep, worth every PENNY.’, she joked one last time, before slapping herself with a hand puppet made of mops. ‘Penny, this is serious! Focus on your mission!’, she imitated a gruff voice, before saluting. ‘Aye aye, captain.’, she narrowed her eyes, and tiptoed towards the other side of the house, searching for a ladder to climb onto the window.

While she did that, the two other Ashley’s finally arrived from very different car atmospheres: Ashley T was sent off with a drawing of a rabbit’s foot, her mother buried knee deep in astrology magazines while her father kept turning the key the wrong way to stop the car. As she simply rolled her eyes at her parents interesting interpretation of human thought, stepping off carefully so as to not get any mud on her sea foam green dress (she was told to dress very importantly for the challenges), she took note of the other arriving car, hoping it was Ashley Q being fashionably late too. It would make them similar, and for reasons Ashley T just couldn’t yet truly comprehend, that would make her giggly for the rest of the evening.

Ashley Q had nothing to feel giggly about, however. As she unbuckled her seatbelt, the cold metal momentarily sending a chill through her palm, she felt nothing out of the ordinary. After all, this was the sensation she felt every second spent with these people. Her father, a rigid wall of muscle that couldn’t be moved by Zeus himself, slowly parked the car and refused to turn his face to her, as did her mother, who was about the most elegant and esteemed company one could hope for, akin to meeting a nymph. Ashley Q had to take people’s words for it.

‘...Well, I’ll be going…’, Ashley Q started, only for her father to do that gruff cough which meant “Listen up, child”, and so, she reluctantly froze, awaiting the inevitable scolding.

Her mother started, still refusing to turn, the shadows of their “concern” the only visual spared for Ashley Q. ‘You spend far too much time partaking in such trivial pursuits, daughter.’

‘Quite.’ her father agreed, gripping the steering wheel like it was made of play-do. ‘You’re a growing girl. You need to start thinking of your future in Armbruster Reality. COO is a serious position. It requires commitment and effort. Qualities you lack in spades.’

Ashley Q bit her lip. This was no unusual thing. In fact, if Ashley T ever let herself notice the girl’s lips more, she would have noticed the scar that had developed by now from years of biting. Opting not to speak, Ashley Q simply nodded.

‘Tomorrow, we expect you up for a tour at 5:30 sharp.’, Mrs. Quinlan coldly stated, Mr. Quinlan nodding slightly.

Ashley Q balked at this, however, her fighting spirit unable not to protest. ‘Ah… What? It’s Saturday tomorrow! And Armbruster Reality doesn’t open until 8:00!’

The death grip her hand suddenly received made her bite her tongue this time instead, drawing just a spot of blood. There was no light behind the eyes that stared her down, but that wasn’t news to Ashley Q. ‘We can always drive home.’, her father “gently threatened”, and Ashley Q shook her head, fear flaring up in every hair on her body. ‘I… Don’t know what came over me, father. I’ll follow your orders.’

‘You better.’, was the chilling response.

Stumbling out of the car, Ashley Q nearly ruined her sky blue dress, the wet grass in Ashley B’s yard shedding dew tears onto the hems. She breathed deeply, trying to ignore how they ignored her by leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Suddenly, she felt the presence of a hand in front of her face, which instinctually made her flinch, until she realized whose hand it was. Soft and sweet, a chocolate milk brown swirl that was as natural and soothing as mother earth’s proudest lands. But it wasn’t natural enough… It wasn’t the way things were meant to be…

Ashley Q reluctantly took the hand, and did everything she could to ignore the electric sparks bursting from every fingertip shared with Ashley T. If she did notice, she would burn like a forest fire, and then perhaps no one, not even her parents, could douse her down to reality.

‘Literally schway evening, huh, Ashley Q? Perfect for an Annual Ashley Sleepover!’, Ashley T cheerfully greeted, unable to contain her joy at seeing the ginger trendsetter.

Ashley Q, unable to uncontain her joy at seeing the bashful brunette, directed all her resentment and frustrations at Ashley A, the girl ruining her one escape from life. ‘That depends on Ashley A, doesn’t it?’

Ashley T gulped, nodding quietly. ‘I’m sure B’s plan will work.’

Ashley Q would have liked to be certain. But right now, she was experiencing the only thing worse than falling into hell: Falling into hell and not knowing if there’s a level below.

‘Come on. Let’s make sure B’s just paranoid.’, Q expressed, and she and T silently walked towards the house, hands begging to touch again but ripped away by the nature of their forms.

‘Dingggg, donggggg, dinggggg, donggggg… Dinggggg, donggggg, dinggggg, dongggggg…’

The door was swiftly opened, but not by Ashley B. It was instead Ashley A, who beamed uncontrollably at her friends, a necessary lighthouse in the storm that was building in her mind’s eye. ‘Girls! SOOOOOO schway to see you! Totes da bomb! Ooh, you are lookin’ hella fine! No one told me there was gonna be a dress code.’, she enthused, then chuckled in embarrassment, feeling very out of place in her casual “Hello Kitty” pink Tee and comfortable brown skirt. Was this not a slumber party?

Ashley Q ignored her spiel, walking right past her to talk to Ashley B in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Ashley T offered her an awkward smile, knowing full well what was about to happen. ‘Yeah, um, it’s just part of Ashley B’s plans!’

‘Ashley B seems really excited about all this. You think it’s gonna be our best crunk of the year so far?’, Ashley A asked excitedly, eyes sparkling, and Ashley T decided to let her have this moment at least. ‘Yeah, I’m… Literally sure.’, she lied, hoping against hope that Ashley B was wrong, since she already wanted to apologize to Ashley A for all that was about to transpire.

Alas, it was too late. Out of the kitchen stepped Ashley B and Q (the former signaling T to join), the three Ashley’s now looking quite a bit more… Important than Ashley A, who was feeling sillier and sillier just in her casual clothes. It didn’t help that B’s mansion was so enormous, with wide open spaces. It was as if the far away walls wouldn’t even close on Ashley, so unimportant she was.

Standing in a row in front of her, the three Ashley’s slowly raised a CD player and put on “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls. Ashley A would normally have instantly begun dancing to the hypnotic beat, but she could feel that this was a solemn moment, and stood still, growing increasingly anxious about all this pomp and circumstance.

‘Ashley Armbruster the second, present yourself to the rest of the club, please.’, Ashley B commanded, voice brimming with authority. For a moment, Ashley A had thought her own mother was speaking. Walking up to the three, she awkwardly presented her clothes and sheepishly grinned. ‘Um, present! Not as… Prim and proper as I’d prefer, but…’

‘Ap, ap, ap.’, Ashley B silenced her with a finger to the lips, before snapping her fingers to order B and T around. The duo snapped (ha) into action and raced to the side cabinet, which had the landline phone atop its white and green doily, and by the sunflower vase. While they did this (well, Ashley Q did, Ashley T was already gasping for air), Ashley B stared down at Ashley A, and while the former was the same height as the latter, somehow, Ashley A felt like a dwarf next to her.

‘You must be wondering what all this is about, aren’t you?’, B whispered, perhaps enjoying this position of power a little too much. Ashley A definitely thought it was odd how much fun B was having when all she had done so far was act weird, but she decided to play along. It wasn’t like she had a clue what was going on, anyway. ‘Totally.’, Ashley replied, hand reaching out towards a recently laid bowl of creme savors.

B slapped her hand away, making A gasp and kiss her pain away. ‘Owie! What was that for?!’, Ashley protested, startled at the attack. ‘That’s not very stylish, or…’

‘On the contrary, dear Ashley! This is all ABOUT beauty, style, and attitude! Specifically, yours!’, Ashley B explained loudly and enthusiastically, waving an umbrella around like a cane as the landline phone was placed next to the slightly less confused fashionista. She was starting to realize what was going on.

‘Oh no… Are you still… Unsure of my loyalty to the Ashley’s?’, Ashley A asked, tears stinging her eyes. Half because they didn’t trust her… Half because she knew they truly couldn’t.

‘Oh, it’s FAR more complicated than that!’, Ashley B seemed to reassure, which made Ashley feel better. She really didn’t wanna stain the gorgeous cashmere carpet with her tears. B put an arm around her, allowing her just a little bit of human contact before the trials began. ‘You see, we just think that an organization like ours should be extra sure after a SCANDALOUS disaster such as “Purple Day”, don’t you, Ashley A?’

Ashley A gulped, unable to deny the concept proposed by B. ‘I… I suppose…’, she stuttered, fingers shaking in fear. Wasn’t this supposed to be just a fun lil sleepover?

As if to answer her question, Ashley B continued speaking of the plan. ‘Now, now, we’ll get to the fun parts soon enough, I promise. After all, if you have nothing to hide, truly, then this should be a walk in the park, no?’

Ashley A again had to agree with B, and she nodded obediently. Only problem was she DID have something to hide. ‘But, um, if I may… What makes you think that… That I still need to prove myself? I kinda thought I already did.’, Ashley nervously laughed, wishing this was a dream, wishing she could just wake up and it was Purple Day again and she could start all over…

‘I don’t think you need to!’, Ashley T spoke up, only to get death glares from B and Q. Yiping, she contradicted herself, nodding her head and shaking her hands. ‘That is, um, I’m like the judge of a hot boy contest featuring the Backstreet Boys: Undecided!’

B explained her reasoning, as the phone cabinet wheeled closer and closer to A. ‘Oh, it’s VERY simple, Ashley. We DO want to believe you, but there are still a few odd loose ends that make us want to be extra sure. You know how high our standards are. We cannot afford any weak points, can we?’

Once more, Ashley A agreed, ignoring how terrible she felt inside. She wasn’t weak, she just liked Gretchen, that’s all! She could be both! ‘I can be both, damn it!’, she thought, but B had an ace in the hole to make sure she complied with the challenges.

‘Besides, just yesterday we were all quite surprised when we walked into your room and found Menlo playing the dollar store version of you.’, B hissed in her ear, and now Ashley A knew she had no choice. She had to do this, she had to pass this, or else her friends wouldn’t love her anymore!

‘...I have nothing to hide. I’m an Ashley, through and true. Like, talk to the hand, because this girl ain’t leavin’ anywhere!’, Ashley pumped herself up, hoping it would at least lower some of the pressure.

Ashley B certainly seemed to deem it an acceptable answer, glare noticeably lowering a bit. Nodding at Q and T, the two finally handed the phone to Ashley A, who was confused. ‘So, um, do you want me to order pizza, or…’, Ashley started, making everyone laugh. ‘I see your humor hasn’t been lost, at least.’, Ashley B grinned, shaking her head. ‘Of course we’d give you a harder challenge than that! Plus, don’t you remember what we use the landline for?’

Ashley A’s eyes glinted as she flashed back to the picture of her and Q in her locker, realizing what they were implying. Despite herself, a small sinister smile grew. She was STILL Ashley A, after all. ‘Oh, you want me to prank call someone? Wow, like, that’s literally soooooooo funny! You really had me going, guys! I could do this in my sleep!’, Ashley bragged, spinning the receiver like a plate in a circus. Eyes closed confidently, she whistled as she hovered over the numbers (of course, she had memorized every phone number in her class). ‘So, like, who are we gonna mess with? Sue Bob? Cornchip Girl? Oh, oh, how about we do Spinelli? It’s been ages, and she really isn’t that smart, after all, unlike me.’, Ashley A cockily sniggered, slipping back into bad habits. Perhaps it was the relief. This WAS going to be the usual Ashley business, and in a way, she missed it a little. Plus, she wasn’t actually hurting anyone she liked (like Gretchen) or was culpable in her recent deceptions, like…

‘Menlo. I think Menlo would be a FABULOUS candidate, don’t you, Ashley Q?’, Ashley B’s smirk could have peeled off the paint on every wall. Ashley Q nodded, adding ‘Literally the best freak for the job, isn’t he, Ashley T?’. Ashley T, still a little guilty about all this, flashed two thumbs ups and hoped those sufficed as an agreement.

Ashley A’s heart dropped like an elevator allergic to heights. The color drained from her cheeks and lips. Somewhere out there, her mother was tutting in disappointment, sensing her genes tainted by slightly less attractive fellow members.

Pointing at the phone weakly, mouth so dry she could just about cough out the letters, she wheezed ‘M…Menlo?’

‘Yes, M…Menlo!’, Ashley B mocked, earning a snide laugh from Ashley Q and a forced one by Ashley T. The de facto leader tapped the numbers for Ashley A, who had frozen for some reason. ‘Why not? Menlo isn’t exactly winning any popularity contests with us. He’s not exactly a cover star on “Seventeen”, is he?’

Ashley A obviously agreed, but her hesitation came from a different area. ‘I just mean, do we HAVE to? He’s such an EASY target! Like, BO-RING ville called, they want your target, heh heh. Why not go for someone far less vital to my plans I MEAN BORING like, um… Gelman!’, Ashley tried, but B sneered. ‘No one CARES about Gelman, Ashley A!’

Somewhere out there, Gelman cried into his pillow again. But he’s not important to the story, so we move.

Patting her shoulder with glistening honey nails, Ashley B buzzed around Ashley A, pestering her to go on. ‘Come on, Ashley A, this is in your BLOOD. I thought you said we had nothing to worry about? I thought you said you’re full Ashley, all the time?’

‘I am, I am!’, Ashley A insisted, getting a little angry for a moment. Just because she liked Gretchen didn’t make her any less of an Ashley.

‘Then it shouldn’t be hard to prank Menlo, right?’, Ashley B posited, and Ashley A, after a moment, nodded resolutely. Not like she liked him, after all. Plus, what did she have to do? Tell him she might let him carry her books if he did something menial like her homework?

But as she began dialing the numbers, Ashley B chose this inopportune time to call the challenge, in order to REALLY test her allegiance. ‘It’s SOOOO simple, Ashley A! You just have to call Menlo and flirt with him and ask him out for tomorrow!’

Ashley A could have died on the spot. In fact, she might have for a moment. She was sure she could see a bright light, and a bearded figure scratch his head, going ‘Hey, you’re not due another 90 something years!’

When she shook her head back to reality, she found herself growing even paler (unfortunately, she couldn’t enjoy how that matched her nightwear). Gulping, Ashley A tried to find some sort of excuse to get out of this for now, just to plan ahead a bit, but by the time she swallowed the lump in her throat, the voice on the other line responded. ‘Menlo residence, Menlo speaking. Files filed, numbers sorted, misdemeanors alphabetized. Would you like me to write down a message?’

Ashley B snickered evilly, rubbing her hands in glee. ‘Oh, this is perfect! He’s SUCH a dweeb! Come on, Ashley A, clown him!’

Ashley Q nodded vehemently, desperate to see someone who wasn’t herself suffer right now, while Ashley T kept herself busy with the spray candy (which definitely didn’t tick off the hungry Ashley A).

Ashley A gripped the receiver, stuck between a rock and a hard place. She didn’t like Menlo, not one bit. He was weird, a little creepy sometimes, and definitely far too obsessed. He was also a dry, boring, lifeless loser with no style, who unlike Gretchen, was also kind of a jerk to others. Hadn’t he worked with Randall one time?

But Menlo had never ACTUALLY hurt her. Never went too far, never forcibly held her hand, never took no for a yes. He was in love, yes, but he wasn’t a stalker, nor a harasser. At worst, he had flirted a lil much. Plus, he had actually helped her out with this whole mess. He hadn’t ratted her out, too, apparently.

‘But none of that matters right now, does it? Right now it’s pranking Menlo… Or losing the Ashley’s.’, Ashley A realized, and if she was honest, there wasn’t much thought needed after that.

Still, her hand shook as she answered the phone. ‘Like, um, hi, Menlo! Sup, you fine… Thing you?’, Ashley sputtered out, already feeling noxious just saying such things to Menlo. Why couldn’t he be a different boy, like… ‘Well, I’m on the spot, I’m sure I could think of someone else later.’, Ashley muttered to herself in denial.

‘Ashley? Ashley A? Is that you? My, you sure sound different! You almost sound glad to talk to me!’, Menlo replied, making the other Ashley’s laugh. Ashley A uneasily joined them, but slower, less inclined to. ‘I was sure you’d be angry after…’

Ashley, panicking, interrupted him with an alarmed and all too loud ‘Moi? Angry? You straight? I’m just fiendin’ to yap to a… Handsome guy such as yourself.’ It was ridiculously hard to say all that, but Ashley figured it was like removing a bandaid. The faster she got it done, the faster she could finish crying.

‘Are you okay? You’ve never called me handsome before. Not that I’m complaining! Just… I was kinda starting to lose hope that you’d ever like me.’, Menlo sadly recounted his earlier feelings, making Ashley want to bite something. ‘You’re telling me I was THIS close to ditchin’ your whack ass… I mean, um, heh heh, of course not! In fact, this entire, um, experience outside of the Ashley’s has made me realize how it’s time I took the next step and, you know… Found a boy toy to call my own.’, she cringed at every syllable, eyes pleading Ashley B to cut her torment, but Ashley B mouthed ‘Go on’, and so, she did.

‘And you’re telling me because…’, Menlo asked, confused. You could hear his eyebrow raise all the way from there. Ashley A face palmed, groaning in anguish, nails scratching her cheeks by accident. This was like nails on a chalkboard! Why couldn’t this idiot just get it so this could END?!

‘Ha ha… Yes, well, you see, when a girl calls a boy and tells him she’s down for some dating action, that usually means something, feel me?’, she muttered through gritted teeth, whispering ‘GET. A. HINT.’

‘...Oh, I think I get it!’, Menlo announced, prompting more laughter. Ashley, sighing in relief, smiled tiredly at Menlo, after what felt like the longest conversation of her life. ‘Yay me. That’s a relief. Thank you, Menlo.’

‘You want ME to find a suitable boyfriend for you! I’ll admit, I wish I was a candidate, but I commend both your cold efficiency and your initiative! After all, I know everything about everyone in school!’, Menlo congratulated her, already sifting through heavy sounding folders that smacked down on his desk like bombs. ‘Let’s see, Lawson’s available, as is King Bob if you wanna try an older boy. Oh, T.J., that could be pretty spicy!’

Ashley’s heart pounded like a tin drummer, and her eyes set on fire. If tone of voice could kill, Menlo and his entire block would be six feet under. ‘NO, YOU LAME ASS CRUSTER! I WASN’T ASKING YOU TO FIND ME A BOYFRIEND, YOU WHACK FART KNOCKER!! I, ASHLEY AMBRUSTER JR., AM ASKING YOU, TAYLOR MENLO, IF YOU’LL BE SMART ENOUGH TO BOUNCE WITH ME FOR SOME ICE CREAM, ON THE REAL! NO PSYCHE! NO NOT! YOU BOUT IT, HOMIE?’, Ashley screamed, louder than she had perhaps in her entire life, spitting venom at the receiver. It was a miracle it didn’t melt from the concentrated resentment lacing every word.

A long silence followed, as Ashley caught her breath, the other Ashley’s did all they could not to burst out laughing too loudly and ruin the prank, and Menlo analyzed the rant.

‘...So what you’re saying is that you wanna go on a date tomorrow?’

‘FUCK!!!!’, Ashley screamed again, prodding the phone with her finger even though it couldn’t actually hurt Menlo. ‘YES, MENLO, I’M DOWN FOR A DATE TOMORROW, OKAY? DO YOU UNDERSTAND? PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GUCCI, PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND ME! I THINK YOU’RE STRAIGHT UP BANGIN’, AND I’D DIE TO SHOW YOU WHAT LIPSTICK BRAND I USE!’

Menlo, now definitely blushing, stammered into the phone ‘I’m not dreaming, right? I wish you could pinch me.’

‘I WISH SO TOO, HOTTIE! SEE YOU THEN! I’M SO HAPPY YOU SAID YES! SO SO SOOOOOOOOO HAPPY! BOOYAH!’, Ashley finished raving, smacking the phone down and fainting on the floor, breathing heavily, as the other Ashley’s fell on the floor too, from uncontrollable laughter, except for Ashley B, who took the time to snap a few pics of that meltdown before joining in the laughter pile.

‘That was so worth it! That was the funniest thing ever!’, Ashley T admitted, spitting out floss.

‘Did you hear him? He actually things this is happening! Oh, that’s gonna be SOOOOOOOO rich!’, Ashley T guffawed, holding her sides.

‘Oh, yes, now THAT was a classic Ashley prank! I bet you enjoyed that just as much as we did, right, Ashley A?’, Ashley B asked, tears in her eyes.

Ashley A had tears in her eyes too, but she had to pretend they were from mirth. Wiping them, she giggled ‘Yeah… Yeah that was, um, that was some real Ashley shit right there, huh?’

Never mind that Ashley had never had to be forced to do a prank before. Never mind that it never involved this much commitment. Never mind that they actually informed the prankee they were being pranked. It didn’t make some of the nasty pranks she had made okay, but still. This was different. This wasn’t… Fun.

Not even for her, at least.

Still, a wave of relief coursed through her, as she sat down next to the table. ‘Okay… That was literally the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But hey, I passed the challenge, right?’

‘Yes, indeed, Ashley A, you did.’, Ashley B congratulated, offering her a polite smatter of applause, as did Q and T. Ashley A beamed. It was worth it for this. ‘Yay! I did it! Now can we get this party started?’, Ashley asked, reaching towards a creme savor, only to get her hand slapped away again. ‘Owie!’, Ashley cried, again kissing her hand, while B shook her head. ‘Oh, no, Ashley A, there are 3 more challenges.’

‘3?!’, Ashley asked, aghast and dismayed. ‘Why 3? What do I need to do to…’

‘Do you want to bring things back to normal or not, Ashley A?’, Ashley B demanded, casting a shadow with her disapproval. There was something about her anger there that felt… Too real.

Ashley A gulped, legitimately scared, and she nodded like a good girl. ‘Yes… More than anything.’

‘Good. Then you’ll do what we say. Friends do that.’, Ashley B reminded her, and Ashley A nodded in agreement, following her friends up the stairs to the next challenge.

But as she got bathed by their stiff, lifeless shadows, she couldn’t help but wonder if Gretchen would agree with this.

 

Back at Gretchen’s house, things were definitely a little odd too. Perhaps that was unfair to feel, Gretchen mused, as she saw her friends all listen attentively (sort of) as she explained what she was currently working on. After all, this was a good thing, no? Her treasured companions were taking a vested interest in the area most central to her core, her love of science, of inventing, of logic and numbers and facts. Could her anxiety addled brain REALLY find a negative here?

‘...Of course it can.’, Gretchen sighed to herself, as she tightened a screw on her, ha, pet project. She chuckled as she made a mental note to make that pun next to Ashley. It would make her do that rolling giggle, and she found it aesthetically pleasing, for reasons she was not yet ready to face.

But that momentary joy concerning her secret friend was soon replaced with the growing worry concerning her not secret friends. Something just felt OFF, and Gretchen couldn’t deny her curiosity any longer. They had rarely ever spent time in her room, and even then it was usually to play a board game or plan out one of T.J’s harebrained heists. Could Spinelli call to mind her wallpaper’s color? Did Gus appreciate her alphabetized book case? Had Vince ever noticed the hoop over her wastebasket, which was meant as a gesture of solidarity over their different interests?

‘Nice hoop, Gretch.’, Vince complimented, tossing a juice box into it.

‘Oh. Okay, point in his favor. But still.’, Gretchen scrunched her forehead, as if to shut down her unnecessary fears, but she just couldn’t. She had to figure this out now. After all, if she was this committed to crazy plans involving secret motivations, how likely was it that her closest friends in the world weren’t capable of that?

Welding the collar tighter onto the machine, then making sure the springs in the legs worked, Gretchen employed some subtlety, and asked, almost absent mindedly ‘Sorry this is taking so long, guys.’

Her friends were mostly quick to reply (she was pretty sure T.J. had fallen asleep for a moment). ‘Oh, what, no, of course not! We wanted to see you at work for once!’, they all answered in unison, which was frankly even more telling. They were individual voices bonded by common goals, not sheep in a herd. Gretchen squinted, stepping back from the table to continue her unfortunately necessary experiment, though the mounting evidence was beckoning her rage. ‘I see. Say, T.J, Gus? Could you assist me momentarily?’

T.J’s eyes widened like a cartoon coyote being notified of the existence of gravity, while Gus suddenly felt as small as usual. The two exchanged worried glances, the kind that spelt “This wasn’t in the plan”. Gretchen knew those well. She and Ashley had probably exchanged those thrice a chapter. That is, day. Whatever.

‘Um, sure, Gretch! What do you… What do you need?’, T.J. asked, a crooked awkward smile gracing his lips. One could tell the boy didn’t know how it felt to be out of control. It must have been disorienting. Right now, though, Gretchen didn’t care for the turbulence being experienced on Air Detweiller. His passengers would have to toughen up.

Unfolding one of her diagrams, Gretchen pointed at the heel of the contraption. ‘Well, see, I think I need to tighten the bolts here, and for that, I need my Torque Wrench. Specifically blue#37. It’s inside my emergency toolbox, which is inside that closet over there. Could you two fetch it for me? I would myself, but I still need to program the self awareness. If it’s too defined, it won’t be its own person… Robot. You know what I mean.’

Despite herself, there was the tiniest satisfied smirk at T.J and Gus’ clear confusion. ‘I’ve felt so bad for lying these last few weeks. I might as well share that feeling if they’re so loose on the truth too.’

‘Oh, um, sure thing, G!’, T.J saluted, while Gus nodded so hard he got dizzy. ‘We can do that! You mentioned it just today, right?’

‘7 times, yes.’, Gretchen muttered from her stiff chair, hunched over the keypad, back straining. How she wished for better back support. But that would be spending money on non essentials.

‘Well, we’re on it!’, T.J and Gus said together, before taking a deep breath and venturing into the closet, where they found multiple tool boxes with no labels. Gulping, they began to sift through them.

Satisfied with the first part of her investigation done, Gretchen moved onto the next one: Removing the innocent member of the group. Gretchen didn’t need to be a genius to figure out Mikey would never willingly agree to deceiving her. But she was a genius, so it was clearer from the first second. His body language screamed “Guilty, unsure, miffed”. She appreciated it, to be fair. Meant that her friends were mostly well intentioned after all. But that didn’t mean she was going to take it easy on anyone but Mikey.

Sitting next to him on her bed (which was far too squeaky, but alas, cest la vie), she placed an arm around her ally in more ways than one. ‘You good, Mikey? Something bringing you down?’, she asked, while Vince and Spinelli behind her smiled awkwardly, trying not to give anything away, even if they were extremely curious about certain objects they could spot in the room.

‘Who, me? Oh, um, no! I’m just peachy! Heh, food pun, I’m into food, how fitting!’, Mikey lied. Badly. So badly it made Gretchen want to apologize to Ashley for all her criticisms. At least Ashley tried. Mikey couldn’t be sadder unless Santa turned out to be fake.

…She really had to acknowledge one day that she saw Santa Claus once. Perhaps when she wasn’t so busy gripping with unnecessary pre-teen drama.

‘Well, that’s a relief! I’d hate to think you were feeling upset, Mikey. After all, you’re probably the person I trust most. I would wanna repay that trust, you know?’, Gretchen laid it on a little thicker, but she still kept on the fakest innocent smile she could muster. Her pats made Mikey’s shoulders slump further and further, and for a moment, she got really worried for her bed’s condition.

But Mikey was easy to crack. It wouldn’t take much more to get him to either squeal or (more likely) run off to avoid squealing, which would make the next phase even easier.

Looking about as comfortable as a fly in a spider’s web, Mikey coughed and sputtered ‘Oh, um, yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Trust. Yes. A key component in any relationship.’

‘Indubitably. Which is why I would trust you to tell me if you guys really want to do this science stuff this afternoon. I would hate to think my friends were feigning an interest just to make me feel better. I’m actually quite fond of the truth.’, Gretchen whispered, making Mikey squirm even more. He was a rat in a trap right now, and Gretchen was enjoying it a little too much. Perhaps she was taking on Ashley characteristics she wasn’t aware she had.

‘Of course, perhaps it’s not to make me feel better. Perhaps it’s something far more… Guileful.’, she pressed further, slowly raising a thesaurus Mikey had once gifted her. ‘Conniving. Duplicitous. Disingenuous. Underhanded. Unscrupulous. Furtive. Surreptitious. Skulky. Clandestine.’

Mikey was practically sweating enough to fill the grand canyon when Gretchen finished on ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’

‘I NEED TO BREATHE SOME AIR IN A DIFFERENT LOCATION FAR FROM HERE FOR TOTALLY INNOCENT AND NOT SNEAKY REASONS!’, Mikey announced, rushing out of the house and charging down the street, his footsteps echoing long after he left.

‘And then there were two…’, Gretchen narrowed her eyes, as she saw Spinelli and Vince exchange uncomfortable glances too. She had to figure out what was going on here, and she would. Even if it meant… Thinking less of her friends.

Setting up the final consciousness program onto her machine (and cursing that she couldn’t enjoy a nearly finished robot thanks to her friends incessant curiosity), Gretchen suddenly rubbed her belly audibly next to the duo. ‘Oh, Tesla’s tibia, am I STARVED. I sure you are too, after all this THRILLING science! How about I go downstairs and whip us some yummy trail mix?’, Gretchen raised her eyebrows, tracing their expressions for any hint of deception.

Spinelli, blushing from alarm at Gretchen’s behavior, made an uncomfortable face. ‘Don’t you have anything that doesn’t taste like a squirrel pooped in a pla…’

Vince suddenly elbowed her, blushing for all together different reasons. ‘Hey, it’s Gretchen’s house! I think she should select the snack!’

‘Why, thank you, Vincent. I’ll be right back! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’, she winked, then stepped out onto the first step and walked in place quickly to make it seem like she dashed down the stairs.

Once she was sure they were sure she was gone, Gretchen went to a certain area of the wall next to her room, quickly listened in for the air pocket, and pushed gently, revealing an open chamber that led inside the walls of her house. ‘I guess there are some small benefits to a house that doesn’t live up to proper safety practices.’, she thought, squeezing inside to place her eyes where her framed poster of Einstein was. ‘Now, to see what my friends are up to.’

Suddenly, a terrible feeling reverberated through her chest, a cold chill that shook her bones. ‘I had to pretend to be myself when I lied about that trail mix. Am I losing touch with who I am?’

She had never been this grumpy with anyone, outside of her pest. Never been this deceitful, barring a plan that usually meant justice for the whole school. She was normally nice, kind, cheerful! She used to feel such joy at the moments shared with her friends! What happened? Was it the friendship experiment? Was it her lying? Was her need to keep it a secret leading to all this behavior? Whose fault was it truly?

Perhaps if Gretchen had been allowed more time to digest these complicated thoughts, she would have gone out there to confess, to explain, to try and fix things.

But before she could, Vince and Spinelli suddenly looked around, and spoke to each other when they thought they were alone.

‘I don’t know about you, but this is taking us nowhere. I say we search the room for clues. I bet you she wrote something.’, Spinelli exclaimed, and Vince snapped his fingers. ‘Of course! That notebook she’s been obsessed with! We find that, we find the problem!’

‘And then, we solve it!’, Spinelli rubbed her fist in her palm with unbridled glee, and the two began searching the room, unaware that two progressively betrayed eyes were watching.

‘I only lied to protect Ashley and to have a friend! A friend I’m more than allowed to have!’, Gretchen thought, turning red from all this… This betrayal! ‘But if they wanna “protect” me from being myself, then I’ve got just the ticket to teach them a lesson.’, she growled, going downstairs to fetch the trail mix, formulating a plot to catch them all red handed.

 

But if Gretchen thought she was suffering, she had no idea how bad Ashley A was having it. At least she got to act against her friends well meaning if selfish behavior. Ashley A was facing less (though not completely absent) well meaning actions, which were FAR more selfish, and without the benefit of even frowning about it.

Of course, Ashley A wasn’t as cognitively developed as Gretchen, to be honest. In fact, for all her bullying behavior, Ashley A ironically didn’t recognize bullying when it was directed towards herself.

Which is why, when she sat down on a pink chair in Ashley B’s positively beautiful room, littered to the brim with yummy snacks, boy band posters and exact copies of Ashley A’s room (just with a tea table set and yellow and black instead of pink), she afforded a false sense of security. Maybe the other challenges weren’t SO hard… Maybe she was just assuming the worst. ‘They’re STILL my friends, after all! They would never do anything to embarrass me!’, Ashley A closed her eyes confidently, attempting to sip her jasmine tea, only to get blocked from it again. ‘Ah, ah, ah!’, Ashley B wagged her finger like a disappointed pet owner, making Ashley A almost whimper in melancholy. ‘Not until after the challenges!’

‘Can’t I just have ONE creme savor? You KNOW they’re my favorites!’, Ashley A pleaded, hungrily eying the savor. Maybe she could just swipe one quickly, like a cat. She owned one, she could probably try.

But Ashley Q was quicker. She slapped her hand away the moment she reached forwards, the brash impact making Ashley A’s dorsum sting and turn red. Ashley A tried to comfort the hand, but Ashley B was already announcing the next challenge, clinking her rare beehive patterned tea cup with a spoon so golden it was blinding. ‘All Ashley’s be seated for the second challenge!’, she commanded, sounding direct and refined, every word chiming like polished silverware. For just a moment, Ashley A heard her mother in B, and she didn’t know if she was impressed, or offset by that.

Ashley Q was already seated, while Ashley T, bringing the object of the second challenge, bowed and presented it to Ashley B, chanting ‘Sporty, Ginger, Baby, Scary, Posh’ over and over like she was a priest reciting Latin verses in the 12th century AD.

Ashley A peaked from her chair (was it lower than the others?), and managed to catch a glimpse of one of the Ashley’s favorite games. ‘Girl Talk? Ooh, I love Girl Talk!’, Ashley A enthused, so much so that she actually shook her hands a little bit, like jazz hands.

Ashley B’s eyes were so glazed you’d think they were a honey donut. ‘Yes, of course you do, you’re an Ashley. For now.’

The sentence was delivered so blase that Ashley A felt a genuine chill ride down her spine. Ashley B had been suspicious and rageful before, but never to this extent. How much had she messed up with this secret friendship thing? ‘Is it really worth all this?’, she worriedly thought, as B lifted the box lid and removed the cards and zit stickers, but, oddly enough, not the spinner.

As B began handing out cards to Q and T (but not A, of course) Ashley A couldn’t help but raise her hand, as if she was in class. ‘Um, Ashley B? How come you didn’t take out the spinner? And why are you sorting out the cards, they’re supposed to all be in one pile…’

‘Do you think I don’t know how this game works? Do you think I’m stupid, Ashley A? Do you think we’re all just dumb idiots who aren’t worth your time and energy?!’, Ashley B suddenly shouted, making everyone flinch. The crazed look in her eyes made Ashley A decide it wasn’t worth venturing further, so she instantly shook her head. ‘Literally the opposite of what I think! You’re stupid… Not!’

Ashley B seemed to accept this statement, so she cleared her throat and lifted her tea cup again, pinkie out. Q and T did as well, but Ashley A had been told not to lift her tea cup, so she just put her pinkie out and hoped with all her heart that was okay. ‘This is a… Special version of Girl Talk, designed specifically for this game.’

‘Ooh, c’est genial! That sounds very special! Thank you!’, Ashley A expressed politely, clapping her hands excitedly. Ashley B sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Ashley A, this is a challenge to your all important position in The Ashley’s, not a prize on Wheel of Fortune. Try and take it seriously.’

Discouraged, Ashley A shrunk in her seat and nodded, feeling like a scolded cat. ‘Sorry.’, she whispered, looking around to see similarly disappointed expressions from Ashley Q and Ashley T (who were both enjoying their snacks of choice: Crazy dips mixed with fun dips and pop qwiz).

Satisfied with this showing of submissiveness, Ashley B began to explain the rules: ‘Me, Ashley Q and Ashley T each have a pack of question cards. You don’t get any, since they are all directed at YOU. That’s why I’ve taken the liberty of removing the spinner. We’re not gonna need it.’

The cold words had their intended effect. Ashley A gulped, teeth nearly chattering from the very thought of being the only one subjected to these questions. Still, a small voice in the back of her head beckoned her to remain optimistic of her friends intentions. ‘Maybe they aren’t choosing the REALLY embarrassing ones! They wouldn’t make it THAT hard, you’re friends!’

As if Ashley B could hear that voice, she picked a card and read out in a far too relaxed voice ‘What is the most embarrassing thing to happen to you in front of a cute guy?’.

Ashley Q and T instantly ‘ooh!’-d, eating up the potential gossip, while Ashley A gaped and gawked, eyes nearly popping out of her skull (which would have been tres disgusting). ‘Wait… Wha… But… Are you sure…’, she mustered a lame protest, but the death stare from Ashley B was enough to silence her into co-operation. She would just have to grin and bare it.

The reason to her dismayed reaction was apparent only to B, though: See, while Ashley A had yet to find a single boy she truly deemed worthy enough to date her, she had a number of celebrity crushes, not to mention some directed to older kids in their block. One, a Zachary Tate that attended the high school a few blocks away, was a particular avenue of Ashley A’s affection. Tall, tanned and a smile that said ‘I’m bad, but in a good way, yo’, Zachary was exactly what Ashley pictured a future boyfriend of hers would be like. Naturally, a sophisticated lady such as herself could easily practice flirting with a boy 6 years her senior, so when opportunity came knocking one day (when Ashley A and B were downing fruit smoothies and he happened to walk into the store to order one of his own), Ashley A knew she had to take her shot.

But what happened after… It had haunted her nightmares for months.

Ashley A had never forgotten Ashley B’s actions that day. The way she instantly moved between her and Zachary, covering up any flagrant sights. The way she took charge and hid her away from prying, laughing eyes. The way she quietly and gently helped her out of the mess.

Those sympathetic eyes, eyes that were as reassuring as the words that came out of her mouth: “I swear I’ll literally never tell a soul what happened today, word is bond”, they had always come in the nick of time during that recurring nightmare, sweeping away the mortification Ashley A had felt that day, a crack in her heart that had healed into a tiny scar.

But now that scar was being opened, and Ashley A was gonna ruin her friend's fuzzy carpet with the gushing red that would flow from her stabbed heart.

‘I… Um… Well… It’s just…’, Ashley A kept on stuttering, face growing as red as the aforementioned gushing blood. How could she spit this out? No, no, she couldn’t, she just couldn’t! ‘The utter embarrassment! Ugh, this is the WORST DAY EVER!!!’, Ashley A cried out by mistake, and for once, she wasn’t exaggerating.

But Ashley B was having none of it, even if Ashley T and Ashley Q were growing a little concerned at the display of fear. Lifting a Zit Sticker (the punishment the game administered for skipping a dare), Ashley B wagged it like she was threatening a dog with a folded newspaper. ‘Do you WANT a Zit sticker? Do you WANT to make us think you’re hiding something? This is a challenge of your loyalty, of your dedication, Ashley Armbruster Junior! How can we call you our president if you can’t admit to a teensy little embarrassing moment? What kind of Ashley is scared to open up to her fellow Ashley’s?’, Ashley B lectured, each word dripping with venom. There was a fire in her now, perhaps a revealing one. Ashley A couldn’t help but wonder if she was still actually president of the Ashley’s.

But the shaming had worked. ‘I don’t want a zit sticker. I don’t want them to suspect me. I don’t want them to not trust me. I can be a part of the Ashley’s, I can! I’ll earn it!’, Ashley A motivated herself, clenching her fists super hard and puffing up her cheeks with air. She had to do this, she had to prove she can have both: The Ashley’s and The Gretchen!

Bravely facing all her friends, eyes open to their potential scorn, she slowly replied to the demeaning question: ‘I was at the smoothie place when… When Zachary Tate showed up.’

‘Oooh!’, Ashley Q and T echoed from before, seemingly forgetting how distressed their friend looked. The scent of juicy gossip was like blood to these henchwomen sharks.

Ashley A let that interruption pause her so she could gather any loose bits of strength. Then, mustering all her courage, she continued. ‘As I’m sure you all know, Zachary is the CUTEST boy in 6th Street High. He has schway hair and bangin’ blue eyes, and his smirk is oh so sex…’, Ashley A got sidetracked, admiring the features (though, if she was truly honest, she was more imagining an abstract body that happened to hold said features, rather than specifically Zachary. Oddly enough, the body was a little more feminine in nature, but Ashley A figured she was just missing a frame of reference for a male body. She’d need to look at some magazines when she was back home the next day). Ashley B snapped her fingers impatiently, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. ‘Stick to the dare, Ashley A. We have imaginations.’,

Ashley A sheepishly grinned, blushing for a different reason. ‘Sorry.’

Then, she blushed from shame as she narrated her tragic tale. ‘Well, anyway, he was there. And, logically, I thought he’d be a great test subject for my flirtations, you know, for the day I find a boyfriend worthy of my FABULOUS looks.’, Ashley A bragged just a little, small pleasures and all. Ashley Q and T nodded, both deeply in denial too, it seems.

‘Yeah, yeah, you’re top of the pops and shit, GET TO THE GOODS, SISTER.’, Ashley B demanded, slamming her hands on the table, and Ashley A yiped, leaped into the air, and finally continued. ‘Okay, okay! So, like, I walk up to him, all giggly and starry eyed, putting on my “honey voice”, you know the one, reserved for my one and only, when suddenly he actually stares back, I think it was after I said he had abs that could melt butter, but it may have been after I remarked that his lips were probably tired from kissing every girl at campus, doesn’t matter, anyway, I don’t think he even heard all those, because he turned to me, like I said, with those sparkling eyes, and he sort of like whips his hair, ugh, TOO MUCH, but I digress, he looked at me and said ‘Hey, little girl, you need something?’, all innocent like, I think he wasn’t aware that I was into him, how adorable is that, boys are so dumb, but point is, well, when he did that, he was really close to my face, he’s tall so he had to lean down after all, and I could see his eyes and lips and everything, as you can imagine that was a LOT to take in all at once, and I had just drank my third smoothie, and I was honestly a little nervous as it was because I still haven’t practiced flirting that much, and, well, you see, um, one thing led to another, and, well, um…’

Ashley’s rant screeched to a halt as she grew redder and redder, not to mention smaller. Shrinking even further into her seat, Ashley A dared look up, and felt the walls closing in, their blaring yellow black colors spinning and spinning in derision, as if she was trapped in a spinning carousel and all the kids were laughing as she felt queasy, just like she did that day. Ashley Q and Ashley T held eager and curious looks, baring deep into her soul, but it was Ashley B’s eyes that truly made Ashley A hush up.

Because those eyes, once so sympathetic and kind, were now as dark and hollow as the inky night that swallowed her up every time she awoke from her nightmares.

‘Yes, Ashley A? What DID happen then? Do enlighten us.’, Ashley B enunciated in an excruciatingly slow way, despite knowing what happened. Maybe because she knew. Either way, she sipped her tea and grinned in anticipation, awaiting the dirt.

And Ashley A didn’t need to be reminded of the punishment for not co-operating. Swallowing the last remains of her pride, she choked out ‘And then… I vomited.’, before hiding her face in her trembling hands, hot tears running down her cheeks, smearing her makeup.

Despite this entire parade of apathy before her, Ashley A couldn’t help the minuscule and hopeful feeling that maybe, just maybe, her friends would be sympathetic to her pain. Maybe even feel bad for what she went through. Who wanted to throw up in front of their crush, after all? No, they had to understand! ‘They have to!’

I’m sad to say that the obvious did indeed happen.

‘SCANDALOUS!’, Ashley B, Q and T all chorused, clinking their tea cups and laughing up a storm, laughing and laughing and laughing for so long that Ashley A wondered if she was going deaf. The giggles rolled on and on, echoing in the halls of her mind, stored away for eternity. As long as she lived, she would never forget this moment, where she had felt truly alone, despite being surrounded by her bestest friends.

And then, Ashley Q lifted a card.

There was more.

There was so much more.

But Ashley A couldn’t say anything. She could only hang her head in shame, like a prisoner at death row, and silently pray that it wouldn’t hurt nearly as hard as this.

All the while, Muffin (who had been watching from above, unable to intervene without hurting her mama), tired of this crap, slinked away to the Grundler’s, deciding only a genius could help now.

And Penny? She was listening in to every word, impatiently awaiting the opening to bust open this scheme once and for all.

 

Poor Ashley M. She was an Ashley, which meant she wasn’t exactly much for running, or jumping, or really any physical activity. Normally, the very thought of exerting her body would have been enough to make her crawl back into bed and pretend no such concept existed.

But Ashley A, her owner, her friend, her mama… Needed her. Now more than ever. No one else could save her from the twisted game Ashley B had set up.

And so, with a heavy heart (and heavier lungs), Ashley M scaled brick walls and careened down them like she was in a marathon, ignoring how her entire body was on fire. ‘Ugh… Why… Can’t… They… Be… Neighbors?’, the kitty panted out in exhaustion, wiping sweat off her brow with her paw, as she forced her legs to keep moving despite it all.

The afternoon was slowly turning into evening. The moonlight was her only guide through this dark, lonely path. ‘Thankfully, they say cats have excellent night vision!’, Muffin smirked, peering through the night to see what she could, well, see.

…

‘Whoever said that should be taken out to the street and shot.’, the feline sassed, rolling her yellow eyes in derision. Now she’d have to climb every tree in every yard just to look in a window and see if she recognized the room Ashley A had brought her once. ‘At least the memory thing is true. A cat never forgets!’, she exclaimed proudly, only to squint in uncertainty. ‘Or was that an elephant? I forget.’

Thankfully, Muffin wasn’t gonna shatter any more myths about cats, like not falling on her feet, because the first house she tree scaled next to seemed to be the one! ‘Those are Gretchen’s friends, the ones Ashley said she loved to mock once! I wonder if she still doesn’t like them. Do we have to be nice to them like in-laws?’, she wondered, before chuckling and shaking her head. ‘I have to stop thinking like that. Why, the likelihood Ashley and Gretchen could be lesbians together are as high as me being lesbians with a… A dog!’

That silly notion brushed aside with a tail wag, Ashley M happily bopped side to side as she tip toed across the branch, practicing her runway strut. ‘One day, mama will take me to Milano. I have to look PURR-fect for my public!’.

However, she took a little too long, as suddenly, a Ruffed Grouse showed up, chowing down on the upper canopy of the aspen tree they were on. The bird slowly turned its head to her, and called out “pete-pete-peta-peta” to the cat.

Ashley M hackled up, hissed, whimpered a bit, and with her tail extra fluffy now, leapt for safety onto the window, thanking the lord that it was open…

Only to CRASH onto the chair next to Gretchen’s desk.

‘Woah! Did you hear something?’, Gus questioned from inside the closet, he and T.J somehow STILL searching for that wrench.

‘I think that was me. I dropped another tool box. How many does she HAVE?’, T.J questioned, voice echoing from inside the closet, as Ashley M slowly picked herself up and perked her ears at the speaking voices.

‘I guess they’re for different situations.’, Gus shrugged, finding a shoe box loaded with tools. ‘Hey, maybe it’s in this one.’

‘I hope it is. Pretty sure everyone went downstairs. I feel like I’m missing out on the action.’, T.J sighed, rummaging through the box, bumping into something, and dropping another three on the floor. ‘Oh man!’, he cried, growing miserable from this.

Ashley M snickered, tutting at the boys. ‘Oh, you’re missing out. I’m going to just waltz up to Gretchen and save my mama, and while you’ll be stuck in that closet being all loser and pathetic, I’M gonna get a nice fancy salmon dinner, with a side dish of cream! I’ll even get to watch the new episode of Baywatch! That Parker Stevenson is beach in beachin’. Get it, like bitchin’, but beach…’

Ashley M’s lil rant was unfortunately cut off by her walking straight into the door, banging her little head, screeching out in pain. Rubbing her head with her paw, she squinted in annoyance at the looming entry before her. ‘Now, isn’t that literally sooooo inconsiderate? Did no one think that a fancy cat such as myself might need to pass through and find Gretchen? No class, no class at all!’

Worse, Ashley M couldn’t reach the door on her own. She leapt up as high as she could, but the handle was tauntingly far away, teasing her. ‘Stop being so… So wooden! Don’t you know that wood is SOOOOOOOOO last Thursday! It’s all about being metal and close to my freakin’ paws! Ugh, whatEVER, I’ll find another way in!’, Ashley M screeched at the door in catspeak. She was lucky the door had chosen an elective in dogspeak instead, otherwise it would have smashed right into her.

Turning back to observe the rest of the room, Muffin tried to see if there was anything that could help her out. ‘Huh. Gretchen’s room is way emptier than Ashley’s. Where are all the necessities, like bean bag chairs, and mirrors, and plushies for me to talk to when I get lonely? Not even a 1 on the Ashley M room rating scale.’, Ashley M turned her nose up at the torrid place, only to spot Bearbert Bearstein, Gretchen’s secret teddy bear, peering from the corner of the bed, hidden as ever. Brightening up, Ashley M pulled him to her with her teeth and attempted to shake his hand. ‘A man of science! I could use your help, this is Ursa Major! See, I’m trying to help my mama, Ashley A? I’m sure you’ve heard of her. Tall, but all humans are. Pretty, but I’m sure you could tell considering her cat daughter, heh heh. But also deeply in the shit! Our fellow Ashley’s are being REALLY mean to her, which is SO WHACK! So, basically, in your professional scientific opinion, how can I open this stupid door? It’s being a REAL loser right now!’, Ashley M went on and on, pacing back and forth, her tail swishing in worry. Thanks to this, Bearbert got swiped at, and fell, head pointing towards the desk.

Ashley M, noticing this, smiled brightly and patted the bear on the head. ‘Thank you, doctor! Most helpful! I’ll recommend you to Barbshley next time she can’t pick a dress for date night!’

Resuming her strut from before, Ashley M swayed her head back and forth as she clawed her way up the stiff chair and then onto the desk. ‘Gee, she could get a comfier chair.’, she thought, only to gasp as she stared above her, accidentally recreating a scene from one of her mama’s new favorite animated movies, “Toy Story”. She wasn’t sure if she’d be proud of the coincidental pop culture reference or not, but her head was sort of packed with shocked thoughts and feelings.

See, Gretchen had sort of accounted for T.J. and Gus to be out of the closet (unlike her) by now, and she was so distracted by all the hullabaloo with her friends, that she sort of set her project up to turn on.

And it had happened to turn on the moment Ashley M was below it. Or, well, her.

Looking slowly side to side, the mechanical marvel analyzed the entire room, filing away important bits of information: The shelves were high and packed to the brim, so those books were precariously dangling over her owner’s head; the bed’s mattress’ springs were loosening, that could be a health risk; Why on earth were those two human males taking so long to find a simple wrench, when she could spout info on any kind of wrench from her built in database?

Clearly, her (A.K.A, Gretchen Grundler, A.K.A Doctor Grundler) had to be contacted, and right now. A laboratory couldn’t be littered with such lollygaggers!

‘Doctor Grundler, can you read me? Doctor Grundler? Why won’t she answer?’, the robot wondered aloud, her speech program sounding like an artificial Jadzia Dax from Deep Space Nine, as she began computing the most likely scenarios. But it was evening, so Gretchen couldn’t be at school, and she had just programmed her, so she was unlikely to be at a friend’s house. Was someone keeping her owner up from attending to her pet project?

Slowly turning around to observe the desk, the machine tutted, judging her owner’s messy workspace. ‘Someone could get hurt! I better fix this up once I find Doctor Grundler.’

Suddenly, a tiny screen popped out from near her eye, as she began to narrate, her ears perked up for any danger. ‘B.U.D.D.Y mission log, terrandate 30-01-98. My first few minutes activated have been nothing short of calamitous. My owner is nowhere to be found, her workspace is a health hazard, and according to my sensors, there seems to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere.’

‘Hello!’, Ashley M meowed a greeting, hoping this narration didn’t imply this thing was… Shudder… A geek.

‘HALT. UNKNOWN PRESENCE DETECTED. STATE YOUR OBJECTIVE AND ALLEGIANCE, OR FACE THE DEADLY STRENGTH OF MY ATOMIC BARK.’, B.U.D.D.Y growled, adopting an attack stance she was notified by her database was “threatening and quite cool”.

Ashley M yelped in fear, jumping up into the air, baring her claws. Shaking her head, she made herself look as small as possible to avoid classification as a threat. ‘I’m just Ashley A’s cat! Ashley M, A.K.A Muffin! I was just searching for Gretchen, it’s an emergency!’

B.U.D.D.Y’s metal ears perked up at the mention of her owner, and she adopted a less threatening stance. ‘Emergency, you say? I was born for those!’

Then, chuckling, she added ‘Well, not born, I’m a robot dog, I was MADE for those. But it felt a fitting expression.’

Ashley M tilted her head, utterly confounded by the… Thing before her. Never in her life had she spoken to a dog, let alone a robot dog. She knew dogs were scary and dumb, thanks to TV and magazines. Except puppies. Puppies were angels.

But this one hadn’t torn her to shreds for existing… Yet. So perhaps she was worth asking help for?

‘Well, um, see, I was just about to get Gretchen, but then this STUPID door got all lame and didn’t open! Which was LITERALLY SO NOT SCHWAY BY THE WAY!’, Ashley M hissed at the door, planning to leave a very nasty review of it to Gretchen once possible. How could Ashley A be friends with a girl who had such a lame ass door?

‘Schway? What is this Schway? I better add that to my database later.’, B.U.D.D.Y questioned, tilting her head like Ashley M did, assuming this was an action everyone just did. Suddenly, a notification popped up in her eyes, and she gasped. ‘Wait, did you say Ashley A?’

‘Yes, Ashley A. Duh.’, Ashley M rolled her eyes. ‘She’s only the most famous person on the planet.’

B.U.D.D.Y’s database only contained a few humans so far. Gretchen’s family, friends, favorite scientists.

Ashley A was part of that list, and marked as quite important. It seemed as if her owner valued this… Ashley A significantly. If the emergency concerned not just her owner, but her owner’s friend, then this required her services post haste!

‘There’s not a moment to lose, Ashley M! Here, I’ll open the door for you!’, B.U.D.D.Y rushed, leaping off the desk and rushing onto the door. Ashley M, gracefully landing onto the floor and grooming her fur, nodded agreeably. ‘Finally, some service! Pity it had to be a dog, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.’

Ashley M was curious however as to how B.U.D.D.Y would open the door. ‘Say, um, canine? How exactly do you plan to…’

Suddenly, B.U.D.D.Y, standing right before the door, rose up from the floor onto the faraway handle, her legs springing up to make her 5 foot tall.

Ashley M’s jaw dropped as she gaped at the display of strength and cunning. As the door creaked open, B.U.D.D.Y turned to her new companion, and within a second, was back onto the ground with a tail wag. ‘Well, are you coming?’

Then, shaking her head, she apologized profusely. ‘Oh, where are my manners? Sorry, I was just made, well, today! I’m B.U.D.D.Y. It stands for Biometric Utility Dog Doubling Yokefellows! In short, I’m her buddy! Get it? Doctor Grundler is so clever.’, B.U.D.D.Y offered her cold metallic paw to Ashley M, who shook it, not feeling the cold stinging metal at all.

‘I’m… Less sure of my attraction to Parker Stevenson.’, she admitted, before blushing and going into denial. ‘I mean, um, what, no, I like men!’

‘...I like men too! They comprise 50% of Doctor Grundler’s inner circle! Speaking of her, we should really get to her! Lead the way, trusted feline!’, B.U.D.D.Y requested, standing at attention behind Ashley M, who gulped, still very red. ‘When I get back to Ashley A, she owes me two salmon. No one said I was gonna question my sexuality on this mission.’

 

And at the same time, back at Ashley B’s mansion, Penny Bly was going through her own mission complication. Specifically…

‘Nothing interesting’s happening!’, Penny protested from her vantage point, scrunched up inside the air vent that led into Ashley B’s room, the area covered up by a poster of Pierce Brosnan as James Bond in “Tomorrow Never Dies”. Penny had delicately cut out the eyes so she could look through, intending to glue those back on when she was done (she was a spy, not a vandal).

But did it matter? Her eyes had been spying this room’s occupants for ages, and nothing incriminating was happening! Sure, Ashley A had undergone numerous embarrassing questions and dares (“Without stumbling, hold your ankles and walk backwards 20 steps”, which thanks to Ashley’s known lack of fitness, led to her falling down over and over, eliciting more laughter; “Call the Cutest Guy In Your Class and Tell Him Jokes. He Has to Laugh Before You Hang Up on Him”, leading to ANOTHER humiliating phone call for Ashley A as she desperately tried to make Butch (she figured he was kinda cute? In a rugged way?) laugh, which was impossible, seeing as he was kind of a gloomy admirer of the macabre; “Stand On All Fours and Bark Like a Dog For 15 Seconds”, which was degrading enough, especially when Ashley far preferred cats, but she was pretty sure lasted 60 seconds actually; “Raid a Clothes Closet. Model the Tackiest Outfit You Can Put Together”, oh the horror, surely they knew how her second greatest fear was being mocked at a runway!; “Tell Each Player What She Does That Annoys You”, which somehow was the one card meant for the others to tell to Ashley A; and so on and so forth), but outside of some potentially embarrassing pics (which Penny was only going to resort to using if she was left with only blackmail as an option), she had nothing! Why, why did no one use a truth or dare card to get Ashley R over, or ask what was going on? Penny wasn’t against sadism, but surely it had to have a purpose beyond “Screw that person”?

Penny then recalled times she did just that.

‘All right, fine, but it’s still not helping me.’, she crossed her arms, sighing audibly. This momentarily alerted Ashley B, who looked over to her poster in curiosity, raising an eyebrow at the sudden sound.

Penny tensed up and froze, eyes flitting around in fear. If she was found out, she’d lose the gang’s trust AND potentially get humiliated herself! That was for Ashley A, not her! ‘I’m invisible, I’m nothing, I’m nobody…’, she whispered, repeating a well worn mantra, shaking and shivering and begging to survive.

Ashley B slowly neared the poster, inspecting it carefully, looking right into its eyes.

You could hear a pin drop. Penny bit her tongue and pinched her cheeks.

‘...Must have been these stupid vents. They’re not agreeing with your presence, Piercy. Too bad. I do.’, Ashley B flirted with the poster, batting her eyelashes seductively.

Penny sighed in relief, wiping her brow. ‘Phew! That was nearly a disaster!’

Then, because Ashley B was a 9 year old girl unaware someone was hiding behind her poster, the rich girl kissed the poster’s lips, pretending she could ever attain such importance… That is, of course she could, shut up.

Penny, growing green in her cheeks, rushed away from the vent to a safer area to hack and wheeze, spitting over and over. ‘Eww!!! Cooties, cooties, cooties!’

She took out her omelet and chewed it over to remove the taste of Ashley B from her lips. ‘Ugh, that’s better. Gosh. Whoever said a first kiss was an important milestone was in need of a brain transplant.’

Returning to her work, Penny suddenly heard the Ashley’s rush downstairs, which surprised her. What could the third challenge even be there? They’d already made her call people twice. Curious, she crawled through the vent to the kitchen area, muttering as she did. ‘For lazy rich girls that sit around all day in their stupid clubhouse, they sure like to move around during a sleepover. What happened to the sleep part? Not that I’ve ever been in a sleepover, but you know, I’m just making a healthy ass…’

And then, just like that, Penny suddenly fell through an unreinforced part of the attic and right onto the middle of the kitchen, just as the Ashley’s were finishing the trip down the stairs.

‘Umption!’, Penny finished as she screamed while falling, and now she had to stop herself from screaming for a different reason, because any second now her cover was blown! Desperately looking for an idea, Penny saw the Boulet’s kept a statue of Ashley A Sr. in their kitchen, rolled her eyes, mumbled ‘Not a brain cell to be found’, and did the logical thing, by standing next to it with a step stool and pretending to be a statue too.

Not a brain cell to be found for sure.

When the Ashley’s entered said kitchen, they all jolted, then stared suspiciously at the extra statue in the room. Penny, sweating bullets, tried her best not to blink. She won no blinking contests with her pet rat, she could win this… Right?

After a long and uncomfortable silence that made Penny make a mental note to check if she received long term cardiac issues from, an answer to her worries finally came. Ashley B tutted her tongue, shook her head, and turning to her friends, exclaimed:

‘I just don’t get modern art.’

The other three nodded and hummed in agreement, despite the four girl’s actual understanding of modern art being as voluminous as the amount of brain cells in the room.

Penny sighed in relief, loudly, making Ashley B turn around again. After another few tortuous seconds as a statue, Penny kept her relief to herself as the Ashley’s resumed their actual business: The Third Challenge.

‘For the Third Challenge, we require something most private of you, Ashley Armbruster.’, Ashley B lectured ominously, standing with her back turned to the girl, snapping her fingers at Q and T. ‘And so, I’ve decided Ashley Q and Ashley T tell you, because I’m not really in the mood, you know?’

Ashley Q and T, who weren’t exactly in the mood for this either but acquitted reluctantly, whispered in Ashley A’s ears what the challenge was.

Ashley A’s eyes widened, and her face flushed instantly. ‘I’m sorry, like, what do you wanna do with my literal UNDERWEAR?!’

‘Ashley A! A lady shouldn’t say such things out loud!’, Ashley B berated, wagging a scolding finger at her friend, as if she were her mother. ‘Just whisper them to keep the shame private! Jeez, you’d think you wanted the whole world to laugh at you, instead of just your best friends!’

Ashley A pouted, hanging her head in shame in habit by now, but still meekly protesting, wringing her hands in worry. ‘But… But… But why would I even WANT to freeze my underwear?’

Penny did all she could not to react to that. ‘Girl parties are so weird.’, she thought, wondering why they couldn’t just paint each other’s nails and gossip. That sounded a lot more fun in her opinion.

Ashley B sighed dramatically, sitting down on a chair Ashley Q and T quickly brought to her service, gesticulating to her best friend, even if that term felt a little ill fitting right now. ‘Ashley, this is a noted custom of teen girl sleepovers, which is our next big step on the road to being powerful and pretty woman. If you can’t freeze a pair of underpants, then how can you lead us into the big P: Puberty?’

Ashley shook her head and hands, trying to explain her case, as she felt her face get redder and redder, like a heatstroked tomato in a Clifford the Big Red Dog lookalike contest set on Mars. ‘No, no, I know that, duh! It’s just… Isn’t the prank supposed to be one of you doing that to me? Not me doing that to, well… Me?’, she asked, pointing at herself with both hands. What was this challenge even supposed to do, except demean her… ‘Oh, wait, yeah, that tracks.’

‘Exactly. Consider this challenge your punishment/test of will. You’ve shown commitment so far, but we need to know if this is the same Ashley A who would crawl through broken glass for us! Who would do anything for Ashley-kind!’, Ashley B explained, her eyes as fiery as her rhetoric, as she shook her fist in passionate display.

‘Um, I never crawled through broken…’, Ashley A started, but the dirty looks she received made her hush up. Nodding slowly, like a prisoner in death row, she trudged to her backpack (which she had left next to the table), deciding it was best to just get it over with. At least it couldn’t get much worse…

‘Oh, no!’, Ashley A suddenly cried, eyes flickering in fright, as she dug through her bag, tossing away her replacement PJ’s (in case of a stain) and concealed bag containing the Ashley R disguise. It had to be in there somewhere, between all the plushes and magazines and snack wrappers (she got hungry when she was anxious about her friends, okay?!).

‘Oh no what?’, Ashley B asked matter of factly, filing her nails, while Ashley Q and T shrugged at each other, legitimately confused. What was the holdup? Even Penny, as still as, well, a statue, craned her ears slightly to hear what was the hubbub.

Ashley A, voice growing anxious, held up her replacement black skirt and regular black jacket and called out without looking back ‘My underwear! I had changes of underwear right here! I always pack those!’

‘Must have forgotten. Too bad. Guess you’ll just have to use the ones you have on now.’, Ashley B waved her off with not an ounce of sympathy, resuming her nail grooming.

Ashley A was devastated. Penny was startled. Even Ashley Q and Ashley T found this perhaps just a little much. ‘Ashley B, are you sure? Maybe we can find a different challenge. There’s no need to…’, Ashley Q tried, chuckling to make herself sound less protesting, only for Ashley B to hit her with a death stare not dissimilar to her fathers. ‘Are you QUESTIONING my intentions? I crafted this plan SPECIFICALLY for Ashley A! So we can move past this, so we can finally be Ashley’s again!’

‘I know, I know, it’s just…’, Ashley Q panicked, trying to set things right again, but Ashley B growled and gripped her by the arm, hard. ‘Do you NOT want that?! Am I the only one that cares about US?!’

‘No, no! Of course not!’, Ashley Q trembled, fighting not to cry. Freeing her hand, she soothingly rubbed it, feeling sore from the grasp. ‘I… I was just thinking out loud. If you really think this is the way, then… Then I’ll do as you say.’

‘S…Same.’, Ashley T yiped, feeling terrible at how scared she was. She had wanted to ask Ashley B nicely to not grip Ashley Q’s arm like that, but decided it would be best to stay silent.

Turning her attentions back to Ashley A (after a centering nose breath), Ashley B pointed to the left. ‘Bathroom’s over there. We’ll wait.’

Ashley A opened her mouth to protest, barely getting 4 words out. ‘But… But Ashley B…’

‘Now, Ashley A.’

‘But Ashley B, I… Please… I don’t want to do this…’

‘Ashley A, do it now.’

‘But… It’s so embarrassing.’, Ashley A blubbered, feeling at the verge of tears.

Ashley B’s eyes grew dark, her voice darker. She stared daggers into Ashley A, seemingly holding herself back from slapping her. ‘You know what IS embarrassing?’.

She stood up and walked slowly up to Ashley A, every eye on her. It was like she was the house itself, unleashing its power onto the tiny human before it. Pointing in rage, she seethed ‘Not being able to trust our leader, a fellow Ashley, MY BEST FRIEND. What’s embarrassing is knowing I’d do ANYTHING for this group, while you can barely muster a FUCKING purple ensemble! What’s EMBARRASSING is that ALL I’m asking is that you prove your loyalty to us so that we can all just be Ashley’s again, and you bitch and moan about every single FUCKING thing!’

She set her forehead on Ashley’s staring right into her eyes, practically nudging them to act out, to prove their dishonesty. ‘YOU WANNA BE AN ASHLEY, A? YOU WANNA BE OUR FRIEND?!’

‘YES! I DO! I DO!’, Ashley A replied, terrified out of her wits, feeling her heart hammer in her chest, but not lying for a moment, her eyes standing still and meeting Ashley B’s.

‘...Then talk to the hand. Because all this face wants to see is a whack pair of underwear freezing in exactly 3 minutes. I don’t wanna hear promises. I wanna see action.’, Ashley B coldly replied, pointing to the direction of the bathroom.

Ashley A gulped, but nodded, to stay safe. She rushed off to the bathroom and prepared to do just that.

But as she closed the door, and looked in the mirror, holding the pair, she let herself shed one small pathetic tear.

‘Please love me again.’ she thought, as she braced herself to walk out to the kitchen.

It was like a death row march all over again, though Ashley assumed those prisoners never had to carry their underwear while their friends mocked and jeered them. Maybe. Ashley didn’t know how prison worked.

Slowly making her way to the sink, Ashley turned on the cold tap, and sighed. ‘This LITERALLY cannot get any wor…’

[iguessitsjustme]

Takara's Treasure Ep 3 & 4 Thoughts

Normally I have something funny or witty or dumb to say before starting these. But right now, I got nothing. My brain is a blank slate. This should be an interesting liveblog. Under the cut:

I am starting to have concerns about busman. I want to not have concerns please.

I think my concerns might just be my trust issues and that I genuinely have trouble believing people are being kind (to me specifically).

I love this shop owner. He’s my favorite. More of him please. (how in the world did I take a screenshot so blurry)

I love how earnest Taishin is. He’s earnest and he’s innocent and he just wants to be accepted and he’s amazed by the kindness he’s surrounded by. But he always asks. I love it.

I think my concerns about busman are about to be proven true and I’m unhappy about it. WHY CAN I NOT JUST HAVE NICE MOMENTS OF HUMANITY IN MY SHOWS?

I love that Taishin felt comfortable enough to call Takara.

As always, that doesn’t fucking matter. He could have had the purest most heart of gold intentions in the world, but it does not change the fact that he has frightened Taishin and is being creepy. Intention doesn’t matter. Impact does. And his impact is that he has frightened the person that he literally followed home.

I love this conversation these two are having. Yes some men do find other men attractive. Taishin has literally never thought about attraction once in his life despite very clearly feeling it for Takara. He just has no idea.

There is so much heart at the center of this show. And now onto episode 4 (I see me catching up today and I’m sad about it. What do you MEAN I have to wait to watch week to week when I catch up? How many episodes are left? Oh wait. The last episode is apparently airing today. Man I timed this well. God bless.)

I feel personally victimized by the clothes all over the floor (just @ me next time you cowards)

I love how Taishin is genuinely questioning what he’s feeling. He’s asking questions to his friends but also not telling them anything because he doesn’t know anything himself. Not yet. I love this. It’s so genuine and sweet.

I would say “Me at the gym” for relatability but I am actually naturally athletic and good at working out (when I do it which is rarely). The issue lately has been my legs. They are angry. Probably because I used to “push through the pain” in very unhealthy ways. Also tennis absolutely destroyed my body make no mistake…but I guess. I’ll say it. “Me. At the gym.”

That English was impressive.

Love that Taishin has mistaken his feelings for Takara as being a stan instead of having a crush.

I love this show. Time for episode 5. See y’all in the next one!

[blackfilmmakers]

Ya know, it's becoming real clear that there are some fans who only value Miles to the extent that he is in service to Gwen and their headcanon(s) of her. Whether its conscious or subconcious, Gwiles' fans dialogue around Miles shows that for them, Miles' existance, his story, etc. is meant to primarily give Gwen her happy ending, to help Gwen have her epiphanies so she can live her best white life. He's only good and uwu to them, to the extent he benefits her. It's partly why the creators making the creative decision to have Miles' be so infatuated with Gwen when, in the comics, Miles is not pressed for Gwen at all, annoys me a lot. They risk perpetuating these fans miguided idea (and reinforcing racist real world views) that Miles exists to affirm Gwen's desirability and she can do with that what she wants, his job is to wait on her and tell him when he can move on with his life. It also ties in with the same fans outright dismissing Margo. To them, there's no way Miles could actually find Margo, a Black female attractive and intriguing - even though Miles loving and strongly desiring woman of color in the comics is absolute canon. To much media has reinforced a false narrative that black men and women loving and desiring each other is rare and not enough. And so, in their eyes, Margo can't be an actual threat for Miles' attention and affection, she also must exist in service to Gwen, to show that Gwen has complex feelings and can get jealous too. Miles feelings, his identity, his desires, his safety, his mental and overall health, his community, his family, his hurt, his trauma, his pain, his full potential, all of it should be pushed aside because to them GWEN's feelings, her angst and struggle should take priority, and he should just understand that his suffering is worth it because she gets to grow.

From what I’ve heard Miles and Gwen in the comics have gotten together a few times, and were even married at one point(somehow across dimensions???) But like you said he mainly dates girls of color, Black girls even, and we don’t usually get that. I was disappointed we didn’t get to see so many Black girl characters in the first movie

I don’t really care for shipping aspects, but all I know is that ITSV showed these two having a slight crush before forgetting about it, because there were more important matters on hand. And yknow, that all felt natural

So seeing Miles go into this crush on Gwen even harder, to the point where he practically forgets about the other Spiderheroes from the first movie until he sees them again? It didn’t seem right. It went from “I want to see my friends who understand me, and also helped me when I needed them” to “I really miss Gwen, sad angst teenage hours”

And yeah I was pretty annoyed how much the movie focused on Gwen, to the point where I questioned if this was her movie or not. There were some aspects I enjoyed, but also stuff that felt unnecessary given how little information we still had. Simple flashbacks would suffice to get the point across that Gwen was in trouble and she was taken in by the other Spiders. The first movie does this

We could’ve spent this time exploring different Spiderverses and the new characters. It just dragged on for so long, that by the time we get to Miles, I nearly forgot he was in this

I’m not so into this fandom that I can say I fully understand the shipping dynamics here. But yknow, if this is literally like every other fandom, then I don’t see why I can’t believe a good amount of Gwen stans make the experience unbearable

[hypergamiss]

I wish this was talked about more in this part of tumblr, but any resources discussing birth control? Today I spoke with a girl who has gained an ungodly amount of weight since starting birth control 3 years ago (depo shot). She showed me her “before” picture and I was shocked. We’re talking a 175+ lb weight gain.

I had a similar experience when I briefly tried it for a year and a half. I only gained 40 pounds and it quickly fell off the moment I stopped taking it. Once I realized what was happening, I quickly stopped taking it. I was basically malnourished trying to maintain a healthy body and avoid the weight gain but nothing worked.

The men I’ve been with, never feel comfortable that I’m not on anything. When I explain why, they always say, “I won’t care if you gain weight” and we all know that’s bullshit. The girl I talked to today, said that her ex broke up with her because he didn’t like how much weight she had gained since starting BC so that she could have sex with him 🙄

I hate how women have to sacrifice so much of their comfort and health in order to accommodate men. It’s like we lose no matter what we do. Whether it’s the pill, shot, patch, arm implant, etc, there’s going to be some sort of discomfort and I hate it. I know another girl who did the vaginal implant and she passed out on the drive back because she was in so much pain.

I wish this was talked about more as well and I 100% agree with your feelings.

I think it’s important for us women to only entertain men who genuinely care about our well-being and are empathetic towards the things we go through as women. I've never been with a guy who didn't try to comfort me while dealing with my cycle or anything related to my womb.

In my last relationship, I was on regular bc and we still had a pregnancy scare so we mutually decided to try an IUD after that. It turned out to be uncomfortable as well and he even said he could feel it during intercourse. There were times when I was in so much pain he would shed a couple of tears with me and he said it was because he felt helpless and he felt like he couldn’t do anything about it but watch me be in pain. On top of that, my libido was very low and I stopped having sex with him. He was really mature about it and brought it up in conversation and expressed how he was frustrated because we weren't being intimate and we couldn't understand why. I knew I loved him and found him attractive (he literally looked like a fitness model) but I thought something was wrong with me (it was because of bc). During this time I started to switch my healthcare providers so my new OBGYN was in a different country outside of the U.S. and that really changed things for me. This doctor took a more holistic approach and we decided to take the IUD out. We got my cycle back to regular and decided to track my fertile days to prevent pregnancy with a combination of using spermicide. That worked perfectly fine and it was the best method for my situation (everyone has unique experiences).

Present day I just don't plan on being intimate with anyone I wouldn't marry or see as a potential father figure for my future children.

"The men I’ve been with, never feel comfortable that I’m not on anything. When I explain why, they always say, “I won’t care if you gain weight” and we all know that’s bullshit."

In my opinion, if a man is not open to having a full-blown discussion over something as critical as bc and even doing his own research, it would be a red flag for me. There are men out there who are willing to take your concerns seriously and not make you feel hopeless and alone. I never went to any of my doctor appointments alone and at one point my partner was more knowledgeable than me about the different options available and asked my doctor more questions than me. Of course, they are driven because they want to be intimate but it definitely feels like they genuinely care just as much when they are like this.

[freudianslumber]

Tiger Man

Summary: The year was 1941, bandmates and secret lovers Scotty Moore and Elvis Presley got caught red handed by Scotty’s fiancée, and this led to the young men being thrusted headlong into the China-Burma-India theater of World War II as members of the first American Volunteer Group (The Flying Tigers).

Chapter 10. Garden of Roses

Pairing:  Scotty Moore/Elvis Presley (m/m), Ken Ishikawa/Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of past murders, rape, dreams and nightmares, sex and intimacy, physical and sexual assault

“So, why did you save me?  And why would you kill your own kind?”  Elvis finally brought up the perplexing questions in his mind, still blindfolded, but now sitting in the back of a car with Ken Ishikawa sitting next to him and Seto driving. 

“Oh, don’t insult me, El.  I would never consider Lieutenant Miura or his minions to be my kind!”  The Major seemed to take offense to the notion.  “They were too reckless and vulgar, no sense of proper appreciation or awe for a magnificent creature like you, darling.  It’s like when I go hunting and encounter an endangered and beautiful species of deer, the first thing on my mind can’t be to shoot it for meat.”

The tone and wording of the Japanese officer were creepily intimate, setting off alarms in Elvis’ mind.  “What in the world do you want with me then?  I’m of no use to you as a source of intelligence, you know that by now!”  The pilot was keenly aware that his hands were still tied up tightly behind his back, feeling numb and stiff.  His feet remained in shackles as well, reminding him of his prisoner status.  He had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation was taking. 

“I guess that’s a fair question.” Ishikawa sighed, “Can’t you tell I’ve been infatuated with you this whole time??”  With that confession he placed his right hand on the American’s left thigh, causing the latter to jump a little.  Elvis tried but was unable to escape this intrusive advance due to the small confines of the backseats.   “Don’t be so prudish, El.” The officer chuckled, still using the nickname without ever getting consent from the young man.  He squeezed and rubbed the prisoner’s thigh suggestively against his will, delighting in it at the other’s expense.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Ishikawa went on to reveal more about his thoughts and motivation: “When I saw you for the first time, on the verge of bleeding out when you arrived, I already felt an irrational attraction to you.  I just knew I couldn’t let them amputate your leg; it would be such a shame to leave you permanently crippled.  Later I got to know about your personality during our interactions and the interrogation sessions.  You are stubborn and spunky, almost too much for your own sake.  But you earned my respect for your tenaciousness, and for being loyal to your country.  In the Imperial Army we were taught to look down on captive soldiers because they were seen as dishonorable cowards.  But you impressed me with your mental toughness and stoicism.  Although I was frustrated that you weren’t spilling any useful information we were seeking, I realized I couldn’t let you die when you almost didn’t make it during the last interrogation.  I couldn’t believe how emotionally attached I had become in such a short time.  I halted the interrogations to let you recover and began to scheme of a way to remove you from the torture and pain.  When I received transfer orders for you, I wasn’t filled in regarding if you were being transferred to a prison camp literally or if that was a cover for secret execution.   But given my background and experience, I had a strong inkling it might be the latter.  So Seto and I followed the car, planning to abduct you on the way even if this was just going to be a regular transport to Kandaw prison camp.  Of course, as you know now, we ended up catching them in the act and took out the whole execution squad instead…”

“So you went through all that to make me into your lover doll??” Elvis interrupted the Major, sounding indignant and outraged. He was almost going to use the more jarring term “sex slave” instead, but even just the thought left him chilled to the bone. 

“I wouldn’t put it in that way, El.  I understand you have a lot of misgivings against me, but I have genuine feelings for you.”  Ishikawa objected.   His prisoner replied in an incredulous tone: “That’s just ludicrous!  We are enemies and you are a sadist, end of story!!”

“Calm down, will you?”  Major Ishikawa ripped off Elvis’ blindfold all of a sudden, engaging him in eye contact.  “The truth is, there was another personal reason I was drawn to you initially.  You reminded me of my first love in high school.  His name was Sean.  He was strawberry blond and not as pretty as you, but he had a pair of pure blue eyes as well.  We kissed and made out, that was the extent of what we did.  But eventually he left me after his older brothers found out about us.  They beat me almost to a pulp and told me to go back where I came from.  Soon after that Sean sent me a letter saying our relationship was over because he was pressured by his family to end it.  I knew even if I were a girl, I would never be accepted by his folks simply because I was Japanese, even though my family was much wealthier than his.  That was when I realized I didn’t belong in America, even though up to that point I had spent more years in the U.S. than in Japan.  Another valuable lesson I learned was only the strong survive, if I didn’t want to be hurt anymore, I had to become the aggressor.  A year or two after that I went back to my home country and joined the Imperial Army with support and encouragement from my own family.  One of my uncles had connections with the Cabinet, it followed that the political ambitions of the Ishikawa clan would benefit from a successful military career if I managed to achieve that.  So, I went through hellish training and had to prove myself repeatedly during the war, eventually rose through the ranks to become the Major Ishikawa you are seeing today.”  

“Why did you tell me all this?” The pilot inquired uneasily.  “Because I want you to know where I came from, El.  I used to be softhearted like you, I used to be a romantic, but reality put me back in my place.  Now I know, nothing lasts forever in this world, it’s survival of the fittest.  Power, dominance, and pleasure are what I’m after, and there is nothing wrong with that.”  The Kempei officer concluded emphatically, his right hand creeping up from the bound prisoner’s thigh to the soft skin below his navel underneath his flimsy white shirt, creating a wave of nervous spasms there.

The tense air in the car was disrupted when Seto pulled the vehicle into the driveway of a residence.  As he parked, Elvis looked out the car window at the nice British-style house shrouded in moonlight.   He regretted not paying more attention to how they got there and the layout of the surrounding neighborhood, but he could hardly be blamed given his antagonist’s disturbing invasion of his personal space.  This was a good-sized detached house quite far removed from the next home due to a large fenced-up backyard.  After getting out from the car, the party of three entered the garden directly from a side door, bypassing the main house.  They walked across a lawn and passed between some overgrown rose bushes, coming to a small two-story brick structure in the rear section of the courtyard.  Elvis guessed this little dwelling was probably originally designed for a housekeeper or the occasional guests.  One sinister feature of this otherwise harmless looking guesthouse was that all the windows had been boarded up. 

As the three got in the door, they passed the laundry room which took up the ground floor, climbed the narrow stairs into the second story.  Ishikawa lighted two kerosene lamps, while explaining he and his wife had been staying in the main house which used to belong to a British official before it was abandoned prior to Japanese occupation. 

“Mrs. Ishikawa??” Elvis repeated the title unwittingly, surprised by the existence of such a figure.  “Didn’t think I’d be married?” The Major sounded sarcastic, “Mizuki is her name.  She knows by now I’m more attracted to men.  I entered matrimony just to stave off constant urging by my parents and relatives.  Don’t worry about her, she knows not to disturb us here.  She’s a nice girl and a diligent housewife.  Her family owed us a large sum of money, so they needed this union to keep going.”

Despite the oil lamps, the whole place was dark and damp, feeling like a dungeon.  The floor plan included a small open kitchen area, a dining room, a bathroom and a bedroom with a large bed taking up most of the space. When Elvis’ hands were finally untied, they were so numb and weak he wondered if they were permanently damaged.  He was led to the round table in the tiny dining room and told to sit in a chair.  The host then offered him a glass of water, pointing out that his lips looked chapped from dehydration. When the young man almost dropped the glass as he tried to raise it to his uniquely curvy lips, the Major stood up, took the glass from his hands and tried to feed the water to him.  In the blink of an eye, Elvis leaped out of his seat and head-butted Ishikawa hard in the stomach.  The Japanese officer was caught off guard and stumbled for a moment, but quickly recovered and chased after the daring prisoner.  The pilot made a run for the door after the surprise attack, but he fell across the floor almost right away as his shackled feet couldn’t keep up with his body.   He crawled forward in desperation, but it was all over when Seto almost crushed him with his full weight just before the American could reach the door.    

“Well, that really took the cake for stupidity.  Even for you, El!” Ishikawa loudly reprimanded his non-cooperative subject as the latter was pulled up from the ground by Seto.  The Major sounded a little out of breath, clenching his teeth from lingering pain as he clutched his midsection.   “What did ya expect? You think I’d let ya have your way with me without a fight??”  As usual, the fearlessness in the young man’s voice and demeanor was impressive. 

“I figured you might need taming, but you’ve just made it a lot harder for yourself!” The irate Kempei officer signaled the physical therapist with his eyes.  Subsequently, the latter helped Ishikawa strong-arm Elvis to the bedroom and strapped him to the bed securely.  The sight of the gorgeous prisoner finally tied down to his bed and spread out for him awakened a flood of instincts and desires within the intelligence officer.  He could barely contain his lust as he quickly dismissed Seto so that he could be left alone with the object of his wet dreams.

“Here we are, in our own little world at last!” The excitement in the Major’s voice was palpable.  The blue-eyed airman felt like a mouthwatering piece of dessert he could swallow up whole.  “Just how many allied soldiers have you violated like this, you scumbag?” the incapacitated pilot suddenly questioned while Ishikawa proceeded to cut open his clothes with a pair of scissors.   “Watch your mouth or you’ll regret it in a minute!!”  The Major warned in response to the profanity, then paused for a bit, apparently debating if he should provide an actual answer.  In the end he conceded: “Alright I guess I owe the truth to you.  I had taken two prisoners and held them here in the past.  But it was different because both of them did agree to have sex with me.  Each of them had also divulged military secrets to us during interrogation.  I think they would do anything as long as their lives were spared…”  “So, what did you do to them?” Elvis interrupted the Japanese officer rather loudly, eyes glaring at his face. 

Giving a nonchalant shrug, Ishikawa replied: “So I used them to satisfy my physical needs, and then I disposed of them when I got tired of them.  I buried them under the rose bushes in this backyard.”  “What?!” Elvis yelled, extremities straining against the ropes instinctively.  “You are a psychopath and serial killer if I ever saw one!”  The Kempei officer yelled back without missing a beat: “They deserved it!  Those two betrayed their own country, there should be no mercy for traitors!”  “That does not change the fact you are a cold-blooded rapist and murderer!”  Memphis Flash wouldn’t back down, pointing out the undeniable.

“Looks like you’ve forgotten that you are still in my hands!  What you need is a little help with quieting and calming down!” Before the last word had been spoken, the domineering military man took out a roll of masking tape from a drawer next to the bed.  Disregarding objections from his victim, Ishikawa taped his mouth shut.  As the young man’s face began to turn a little red from hyperventilating and making muffled grunting noises behind the tape, the ruthless army man took out a clearly well-prepared pre-mixed syringe with needle and jabbed Elvis in the arm, injecting unknown medicine into a muscle there. 

The Flying Tiger continued to buck against his restraints despite the futility of it all, but only a few minutes passed by when he began to get drowsy.  The Major was now smiling and saying something, but the words sounded echoey and remote.  Elvis watched helplessly as the Japanese officer stripped him of all his clothes, arranging his limbs and torso in demeaning postures.  He watched with horror as the same vile man unzipped the pants of his Ninja outfit, freeing himself and proceeded to drill into his core with almost no lubrication or preparation.  The pain from the rear was deep and tearing, but dulled by unnatural sedation and an emptiness which was overarching.  He could see his body shiver and rock beneath the fiend who was attacking with savage energy.  A drop of tear fell from corner of his right eye despite attempts to hold it in.  Ambient white noise started to get so loud that it overwhelmed Elvis, his vision became more and more limited.  His eyes rolled up and darkness engulfed him at last. 

Elvis was standing on the bank of the raging Salween River, with wind blowing through his torn and ripped white shirt.  He needed to wash himself clean, that was the only thought on his mind as he stared despairingly at the torrent.  A couple of teeny, little hands grabbed a hold of him and tugged on his clothes.  When the sad-eyed young man looked down, he found two Chinese school boys and Wen Fang standing next to him.  The youngsters pleaded with him not to take the next step, saying he was their hero.  “Uncle Xiao Ai! My sister and I are waiting for you in Kunming.  Don’t leave us, you are my favorite pal!”  The Yang sister added, stretching out her arms in an invitation.  The pilot had no choice but to give in then, so he bent down and lifted the little girl up in his arms.  “Uncle Xiao Ai, will you sing us a song?  We love to hear you sing!”  She implored as she wrapped her arms around the tall American’s neck in a warm embrace.  “Xiao Fang, you know I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Elvis sighed, gathered his thoughts and chose to sing a slow ballad with gentle melancholy:

I saw the harbor lights They only told me we were parting Those same old harbor lights That once brought you to me. I watched the harbor lights How could I help it? Tears were starting. Good-bye to golden nights Beside the silvery seas.

As the serenade came to a close, Elvis realized he was no longer at the riverbank, and the kids had disappeared as well.  Instead, he was back in his own bedroom in Memphis, surrounded with the familiar pink decorations.  The Blue Moon Boys singer was crying in bed, with his head buried in a big Teddy bear.  Mama Gladys came in dressing like an angel ghost again: “Oh baby, don’t give up.  I know how hard it’s been for you, but believe me, help is on the way.”  Her only son raised up his head, looking back at Gladys with large teary eyes: “Satinin, s-sorry to let you down.  But I-I can’t take it no more.  My heart and soul had been shattered and crushed.  Maybe it’s best to end it all.”  “Don’t think that way, baby.” Gladys walked next to the bed, running her hand through that naturally splendid head of hair, massaging the young man’s scalp, “You gotta soldier on, and there’s a solution to everything.  Don’t forget, ending your own life is a sin.” 

“But you told me I’d already sinned for loving a man.  Sinning one last time can’t be that much worse.”  Elvis pointed out the incongruence in the logic, not ready to change his course.  This was immediately met with disproval by his Mama, who slapped him lightly on the back as an admonishment: “Don’t you talk back to Satinin, and never second guess the fairness of God.  He works in mysterious ways.  Trust me baby, I need you to hang on.  There is light at the end of the tunnel…”

The next thing Elvis remembered was fronting the Blue Moon Boys in a dynamite gig in front of an exuberant crowd.  After the conclusion of the show, he and Scotty escaped the wild teenage fans and ran into the backstage dressing room.  They locked the door and kissed each other sloppily.  Scotty’s steely blue eyes lit up as he admired the naked body of his perfect lover, perching on top of the narrow vanity table, with clothes scattered on the ground in a semicircle.   The guitarist’s magical fingers aroused and soothed his pliant partner all at once.  Confident and in control, Scotty pulled the singer to the edge of the table, placing that pair of graceful legs over his arms, entering the younger man from below in a tight embrace.  Elvis almost burst into tears from the rush of warmth and intimacy that enveloped him.  His heart screamed in ecstasy, but his mouth was seized and occupied by Scotty’s zealous tongue, so only the odd moan was heard.  Finally releasing his mouth when both of them were out of breath, Scotty lifted his boyfriend off of the vanity top and flipped him over to face the mirror. 

Elvis bent over the countertop with his chest touching the cool wooden surface, he could feel one firm hand of his lover on his back pushing him down while his lower body was crowded in from behind.  Next Elvis’ hands were caught, and they were easily tied up behind his back with a necktie.  Experienced hands stroked him up and down sensuously, from his erect nipples to his narrow waist, not to mention the firm and shapely buttocks.  Warm lips peppered his lower and then upper back with little pecks, working up to the base of his neck.  Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Elvis as he felt a vicious bite there.  He couldn’t help but let out a scream after what felt like a beastly or a vampire attack.  Everything happened so fast, and it all went horribly wrong after that. 

“What on earth? Scotty, are you alright?”  Trying to get over his shock and understand what happened, the young singer asked his partner.  This was greeted with silence and a hand that grabbed his neck and choked it with brutal strength.  Another hand pulled his head up by the hair until he saw his own reflection in the vanity mirror a few inches away.  Pale and perturbed, the young man on the receiving end of this senseless battering finally caught a glimpse of the man who dealt it out.  “Scotty can’t answer you.  You are mine now, El!” The officer in Kempei uniform sported a malevolent grin on his face.   He turned his suffocating and defenseless victim over, licked across his chest and nipples, making his ill intent clear.  When Ken Ishikawa finally released his strangle hold on Elvis’ throat, the feisty young American spat right in his face: “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!! What did you do to my Scotty?”   

Without a flinch, the Major wiped the saliva from the side of his face with a handkerchief.  Unsheathing his katana, the officer showed the fresh blood on its sharp and shiny blade: “Are you sure you want me to answer the question?  Let’s just say you’ll never see your lover again.” 

“No way!  You liar!  Scotty is still alive!  I know it!”  Elvis went berserk at the ludicrous suggestion that his Scotty had been killed.  Completely disregarding the danger and deadliness of the Kempei officer wielding a katana sword, he kneed Ishikawa in the gut and tried to run despite his hands being tied up behind him.  That was when he felt a cold blade impaling him in the middle of the back.  He collapsed to the ground with blood pouring out and his life rapidly draining from him, the last thought on his mind before everything faded to black was: “Scotty is alive, he will be fine, I know it…”

[1d1195]

Sam the week has not been off to a good start 😀

I swear the universe is FUCKING with me bc tell me why I’m not even completely out of my sickness yet and my period comes EARLY?!? And it’s one of those really painful ones 😭 I swear I cannot catch a break like I just want to have a peaceful week 😭 and school is literally a dumpster fire rn lol

ANYWAYS

I hope you know that saying “no” is always a good step in the right direction especially since you have trouble saying it sometimes! I’m proud bc it does take a lot to say it and break that habit! Now the guilt part is something that I’m sure takes time overcome that. And I KNOW it’s hard to not feel guilty about it bc I have this problem too! So I get how sometimes it just can’t be avoided but remember that there’s a reason why you felt the need to say “no” because you need to trust yourself! And if people can’t respect that then it’s a good thing not to put in energy into those situations/people!

I’m pretty sure I’ve only fully seen the animated beauty and the beast but I forgot they did a live action one lol but I was referencing the animated one! And omg I love this sudden passion about this movie! And honestly you make good points! Never really thought about it lol and I feel like only certain guys can truly pull off having long hair bc it’s a vibe that one must know how to carry! And of course Harry is one of them like Sam die a little every time I see a pic of lhh😩 and I think Damian’s David who’s a lead singer of a band had long hair at one point and bestie when I tell you I’m DOWN BAD for that man… he’s just so attractive to me and like his tattoos… I DIE!

Anyways lol I was SURPRISED when you updated ding today! I did not expect that once again but I’m obviously NOT mad about it! Now I have so many questions after reading that part! Like I’m a bit surprised that she’s a bit more closed off and “aloof” compared to Harry but I love that twist! Especially since it’s a boxer AU typically from the ones I’ve read he’s more mysterious or closed off than the MC but I’m liking it! I wonder what’s going to happen in order for her to be like emotionally available/ready to fully be with Harry? Who hurt her? She’s definitely keeping a safe distance but like I get her! I am like that too lol ALSO it sucks that the guy from her date is still some how involved in her life :( maybe not directly but constant being asked about it can suck!

Aside from my questions I TRULY ENJOYED READING THIS PART! Sometimes I forget you write smut lol but honestly did not disappoint bestie! I’d think I simply pass away! Plus I kinda loved he was basically speechless when he was with her bc I do love reading about whipped men 🤭

Ahh I hope that your week has started off better too! I hope you’re treating yourself well! I’m sending you the best of vibes! Love you!-💜

Hi hi sorry for the long delay.

Well, at least you can blame your period and you can still be a badass bitch. I'm sorry this week was not it! I hope it's been better since we last chatted and you're feeling a lot better.

I think I just got used to being really alone and lonely so now I want time to myself (add in being an introvert) but I forget that I do have some friends and people in my life who want to hang out with me and enjoy my company (that's what I get for being a delight to be around).

I have mixed feelings about lhh (If he washed his hair like one extra time per week i would probs be foaming at the mouth but there are some GREAT moments nonetheless). I had to google Damiano David he's VERY cute I could see how the long hair on him would be heart attack inducing.

I would also forget I write smut. It's not very good I really struggle with it tbh. But it's done. I don't think I could write boxer Harry without it. I'm glad you are still enjoying! Two parts left is kinda weird to think about I hope I can pull off everything I have planned 😉

I'm having an okay week. Excessively busy. Tomorrow should be relaxing but then Tuesday will be another long day 😅 Oh well.

love you!

xoxo

[d3n-rf]

See life has so many ups and downs

Just when things start to pan out

They can seemingly fall apart.

The important part is

Is to know these are tests

These are lesson

Designed to strengthen us

And be who we are destined to be.

There is something greater in us all.

I see it so clear

When you put yourself first

Lord,

It’s the most amazing gift

You see your future clearler

You focus on yourself

You know, I’ve been through a lot

I experienced the worst type of

Relationship as a young naive girl

Me being who I am, I’m not one to victim shame

I know my heart is big and I know who I am

All that he did and all that he said

Made me lose a lot of people

Yeah that is hurtful but they weren’t real friends

Because If they were real they see the truth

But I’ve always been different

People don’t understand asrtand

Some question my intentions

But my love is just pure

I never needed validation

And I didn’t need to fit in

See my ex, he was taunting, he was mean and he was controlling

He silently abused me, manipulated me

That is something I can’t change

It doesn’t matter what I say because that pain will never go away

But I know who I am

And I don’t like the drama

So I keep my mouth shut and I let the lies arise

It makes me shake to talk about the hurt

I’d rather leave it all

Because I know who I am

I’m a good person and those that see

Are the ones meant to be surrounded by me

I don’t need no sympathy , I don’t need no pity

I have a mind of my own and I can get through it

Had to fully lose myself

So that I could be free

From all of those

That only used me

You see, I’ve always been me

And I’ve always been kind

I was so naive

I didn’t realize people were different

I thought the world was just like me

With loving hearts and real intentions

I didn’t see the evil that was ahead

My mom always told me

I need to stop seeing the good in everyone

But it’s always been what I’ve seen

I didn’t understand how much hate there was

So going though what I did

It hurt and it broke me

But I was to good for all of the hate

People don’t care when you are in pain

I literally thought that they did

I do… I’ve always cared… to much

For the ones I loved

That’s what makes me different and I’m easy to break

That’s why I have my guard up

And I try not to let them see

I realize now I am different for a reason

There’s people like me

I just gotta keep believing

I don’t want the fake

I only want the real

So I keep my circle small because I value who I am

I put myself first because I know my

Worth

I don’t like to fight, I like people who see the world how I see it.

People who are kind, real, compassionate.

See— life, it’s very weird, you know.

I had a lot of friends growing up. I mean, I was still bullied by certain people in certain situations

I didn’t always handle it the best way.

I’ve always been really kind. From the time I was young

I always stood up for people.

No seriously,

You can ask my family.

I’m a good person.

I’m not someone who is fake.

No, I’m going to tell you exactly how I feel.

If you ask me a question, I’m gonna be honest.

If that hurts your feelings, I am sorry. But I keep it real.

When I had any friendship, I always talked highly about my friends, and loved them.

I was never one to be like, hey.. this persons a “mean name””

I like to have good friends, who are good people in all aspects.

respectful, mature, honest, loving, genuine.

Real friendships.

A lot of people, I’ve found enjoy getting really wasted with a bunch of friends, who aren’t really friends… I mean, they all talk shit about each other …

When they’re sick, their friend isn’t there to take care of them.

When they need someone to talk to, it’s “fuck that person” let’s get hammered!!!!

And go clubbin and fuck shit up

Legit…

There is people like that.

No morals,

Always seeking a man,

Needing approval of others,

Feeding into drama,

Associating with bad energy

Drinking practically everyday

Attracting the same time of men

Doing drugs socially

Spending most of the money the make, on partying.

Not thinking about a future, what they want.

I think a lot of what happened here

Is social media.

I think seriously, a lot of these young adults they sit here and they have to be popular, there so into social media, they are not paving a life for themselves

Back before social media was a thing,

People moved on with their life’s.

They settled down

They had families

They focused and envisioned what they want there life’s to look at

Friends become old faces

And you meet your neighbours or your call leagues

You’d grab a beer once and a while

And your get back to life

Now the problem is

Especially girls. But guys too

They crave this social media. They crave friends, romances, drugs,

Realistically that’s for people I’m there 20s

We gotta grow up some time

But these people never will

These are the same people who will

Believe in lies

Instead of asking for the truth, or searching for the truth themselves by analyzing behaviour

But the problem is.

1. these people like drama. They are drama, but they like drama

2.. These people love to party, and shut off emotions.

3. They love to avoid life

3. They Avoid getting help

5.Ignore boundaries

And then like to think that people who don’t paritcape in the behaviours , are drama

This generation forgot to grow up

And that is what’s wrong with a lot of the world today

How do we survive in a world where people are more concerned on how they look, who they are dating, and how their friend see them then making a plan for a future.

That’s where I’m different

So I struggle a lot

You know

Truthfully

Like I said earlier

I’ve always been a really nice person

I remember, coming home from school. In KINDERGARTEN and telling my mom she needed to pack a lunch for a girl at school , because she didn’t have food.

I was that girl.

I was the girl who in grade 4,

Seen a little girl being bullied because she was different.

, I went up to her after that class and asked her if she wanted to hang out with me at recess. I made sure I was always nice to her going forward and made sure she didn’t feel alone.

Yes I’ve always been that girl.

In grade 4,

I told my mom my dog shadow didn’t seem right.

she said that’s weird , why do you say that

I said he just seems different

Well, the very next day

My mom took my dog to the vet because he couldn’t poop or pee.

Turns out my dog had cancer and soon after passed

My mom was amazed at my intuition.

In grade 8, I had a younger friend. His name was tristian. Tristan Walsh.

He was great at taekwondo. We did taekwondo together, he was very talented.

We went to the same school, he eas I believe 3 years younger then me so he would of been in grade 5

When I witnessed an older boy pushing tristian around

I walked over, and I sternly said, stop picking on my friend . Or we’re gonna have a problem. I said , listen buddy, I know you, Your Kristen’s brother

If you ever do what you just did ever again I will kick your fucking ass

And tbh with you tristian should

He’s a beast at taekwondo

He could kick your ass

So if I was you

I would back off and leave him alone

And he did, just that.

So where I’m at in life. Im not necessarily judgemental

But I feel because of my mentality, I’m going to always look like a problem.

Why is she always alone?

Why doesn’t she have a boyfriend?

That’s what makes someone in todays society

Not who they aren

Ur who they are dating, and how many friends they have.

Like no, I have friends . Maybe not many

I went through so hard ass shit, for a long time with someone I have no respect for

That person participates I’m things I was always better than, but couldn’t quite escape

I’m not worried about people’s opinions

I want to find my future, my beautiful future.

That I made for myself

Not some rich man I used to get to where I need to be.

Not by sitting there laughing drunk talking about other people to make myself feel better.

No.

I have goals

I’m gonna make life happen

I’m going to have that beautiful dream house I’ve always wanted.

I’m going to have a nice pool in the back yard

And a pool man to take care of it for me.

I’m gonna find my passion, make my money

Plan my life.

I will love me, and only me until I meet someone worth settling down for, someone with as much passion as I have.

Someone who thinks business, thinks smart.

Has a mind of their own.

Doesn’t need validation

Just what’s to grow and be happy

I need a man that doesn’t feel like he needs the paparazzi.

You can all be watching, but we won’t be watching you

I will find that perfect person.

But until I find what I want

I don’t want anyone else

I have gaols

I want to achieve so much,

I want to become a billionaire

So I can take care of my sister.

So I can give my mom and dad lots and lots of money.

So I can take care of my one true friend.

And so I can make the world a better place

Full of love

Laughter

And joy

We have a bunch of people walking areound destroying there own life, bar hopping, dick hopping, chick hopping .. etc

All getting stds from the same people

Everyone knows each other

There life is a competition

That shit must be exhausted

For real though.

This is some people’s life’s

Isn’t that crazy??

My life is me

live like not one is watching

No one is judging

I’m not famous

Why do you care?

Why do you stalk me?

Why do you talk about me?

I’m not famous, why do you care

See, I don’t associate with that. That’s waste energy. I’m above that energy, which is why I’m a queen.

I’m real, some hate it

Some love it

It’s me.

Im just a girl

Trying to live her best life

J-D-R-F —“””:,) F@44😘

[dhaaruni]

i'm curious to hear your thoughts on the demisexual podcast

So we're talking about this article, and its corresponding podcast.

Here's my response under the cut.

I read the article and listened to the podcast and I still honestly think demisexuality is fake lmao. It doesn't make you queer or otherwise ~unique that you wait to have sex until you know and trust the person, especially as a woman where there are substantial risks to casual sex, and I don't just mean pregnancy and STIs. I said this a while ago but for the first month or so when I'm seeing a guy or going on a first date, I always let someone know, whether it's a friend or my parents, because the reality is that many men are violent, and having sex with someone you don't know puts you in a vulnerable state where it's easy to be victimized. The way I frame it to men, namely those who'd never dream of being violent to women, is that 1/4 of women are victims of sexual violence but 1/4 men are not sexually violent since most predators are serial assaulters. Does that make sense?

I totally agree with the idea that it's really cringe and even harmful that we're encouraging teenagers to construct permanent identities to temporary feelings. Plenty of young teenagers are uncomfortable about sex, and claiming that state is permanent will only mess with their minds as they grow older and more comfortable with their sexualities. If you're 14 and uncomfortable with the idea of sex, you aren't demisexual, you're just 14 lol. I think parents should validate their children's identities obviously but allowing them to define themselves on things they may not even feel in a few years is detrimental to their development.

I think that there is kind of a tie between demisexuals and incels, both male and female. There's been a lot of focus on male incels, who want to have sex with women but can't do so for a number of reasons, but I think that female incels do exist although of course, a major difference is that male incels traditionally blame women while female incels blame themselves. It's not female incels who are shooting up colleges over not getting laid, it's the Elliot Rodgers of the world. But that said, I almost feel like female incels will cling onto demisexuality or even asexuality in a way to detract from the pain of social rejection. Like, if they're demisexual or asexual, they can rationalize their not being considered sexually attractive by others as a moot point since they only feel sexually attracted to those they have emotional connections with anyways or not at all. It's kind of a coping mechanism, you know?

There's also something to be said about adults who still identify as demisexual like it begs the question: why? Why do you need a unique identity that literally means "I only have sex when I feel comfortable with my partner?" That doesn't make you unique, that makes you a normal person. I think there's something to be said where women are uncomfortable being like, sexual adults but not sexually available like it's almost as if women are conditioned to feel apologetic for not being sexually available at the beck and all of men, so they construct this whole silly identity so they have an excuse to say no so to speak.

Speaking anecdotally, I've honestly a lot of hate for being selectively sexually available like I 100% got more slander (so to speak) in college than either women that were celibate or women that were very promiscuous because I always had agency. It was my choice, and I don't mean that as a feminist statement or anything, I just was conditioned to not do anything unless I felt like it, and that carried over from not taking my medicine as a little kid and ending up in the hospital with pneumonia as a result to refusing to have sex with people in college unless I felt like it in which case I'd have sex with them 2 hours after meeting them lmao.

Sorry for rambling but I hope this was interesting to you! Let me know what you guys think as well.

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

genre: soulmate au, office au, fake dating, fluff (a lot), angst (a little), romcom, magical realism (??)

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

a/n: behold ! a kdrama compressed in a fic ! ok i was lying there was more than a little angst but all in good fun <3 i have never experienced working in an office (thanks to the panny) but i tried making it as accurate as i could !! hope you have fun with this <3

It’s not that you’ve never been looked at with a lover’s gaze, it’s just that whatever look Jaehyun has been giving you is mildly uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to be that way. Hell, even his hand clasping yours are a little too clammy for your liking.

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

You wish he were a better actor than this. For someone used to eyes on him in each and every room he’s in, he’s not very good at making eye contact. You’ll be saving this performance. Not to stroke your own ego but at least you know how to behave under strong gazes.

There are three people staring at the two of you and your fingers intertwined, scrutinizing your postures and the expressions on your faces. Maybe Jaehyun should face them instead of glancing at you wordlessly. He’s a terrible liar for someone who acts so smooth. 

You look up with a short smile. The aforementioned three are your coworkers—former class rep at uni and your current boss Doyoung, your friend Soojin and Jaehyun’s friend Sicheng from IT. None of them look happy—like it concerns them. If there was a competition for nosy coworkers, this entire group would be winning awards left and right (and that’s including you). 

They’re going to find out, an annoying voice giggles inside the quiet corner of your brain. Like hell, they will. You didn’t take up acting lessons in college for nothing. You just need to focus on the details.

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

If someone were to tell you Jung Yoonoh from marketing is your soulmate, you would most certainly either laugh or take it as a genuine insult. Hence, you were glad when you found that he isn’t. 

It was an accident. You had glimpsed at his soulmark, right below his collarbone, at a particularly wild office afterparty—and somehow, you thought it was fitting that his tattoo was a little red heart. For someone born on Valentine’s day (which you know from a night out with coworkers, not because you’re remotely interested), if his soulmark was not something as disgusting as a heart, it would be the textbook definition of irony. But then again, fate is a funny thing. Your soulmark is a heart roughly the same size, with a little more intricacy in the form of a piercing arrow.

Despite all, however, if someone were to ask you if Jung Yoonoh is the worst person to be your soulmate, the answer is no. You can name at least five coworkers off the top of your head that you’d choose him over. You would choose him over Doyoung (and especially his nagging), you would choose him over Taeyong because he’s too hot and you also don’t like men in a higher position than you are, you would choose him over Jungwoo because you suspect he’s secretly a furry. Jaehyun is certainly better than your deskmate Dongmin who, despite an angelic smile, is: a) too distant to make actual conversation with, and b) in a relationship despite being your soulmate. Sweet-tempered Dongmin doesn’t even know it’s you. You’d love to be the bearer of bad news but this one—you’re not exactly ready for it yourself.

So that’s the explanation for why you hunted down Jaehyun and in a desperate attempt to not seem pathetic, coerced him into a role that has carefully picked benefits for either of you. You just have to bite the bullet sometimes.

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

Jaehyun laughs in amusement and you drop your smile, almost offended. If you were a gift, you’d certainly be an attractive, spicy, hot one—he doesn’t have to look at you so incredulously. In a neat business suit, Jaehyun is as kempt as ever though his tie could do with some more work.  As an HR assistant, his appearance pleases you. However as a person, the perfection annoys the hell out of you. He could show himself to be more human. It would make your job (both the actual and the metaphorical) easier.

“I’m leaving,” he announces with a nonchalant exhale. “You keep messing around during work hours like this and people are going to think you’re jobless.”

“Wait!” 

You jog up to him and block his path, crossing your arms as you huff at his indignance. 

“I said no,” he repeats, and when he tries to evade you, you push him back with your palm flat against his chest. Jaehyun doesn’t show any more discomfort than usual, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You haven’t found your soulmate, right?” you say, taking a deep breath. If you have to resort to psychological warfare, so be it.

His smile wavers and he straightens, no longer leaning against the printer desk. “No. How does that matter?”

“It matters because you’re going to be my pretend-soulmate. Now, don’t be a pussy.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You can’t always trick me into doing what you want.”

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

“See—enough with the tricks, they don’t work anymore. I’ve known you for two years.”

“I really will ask him.”

“Not convincing enough. You don’t even talk to Doyoung outside work.”

You groan into your hand, taking a few moments to come up with another plan. How is your obvious charisma not enough? You certainly can’t tell him how rejected you feel with the whole Dongmin situation even if his rejection hasn’t officially come yet. It’s too embarrassing for a grown adult to go through. You don’t mind being lonely for the rest of your life if you’re successful. There’s a price tag on each decision you make anyway.

“I’ll treat you to lunch every day. I’ll pay.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot in anticipation. They say the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Besides, Jaehyun hates spending his lunch money on himself. This ought to do something.

Jaehyun places his hand in front of his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no, out of your beloved paycheck? That’s kind of scary, honestly.”

“Jaehyun. Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He purses his lips, hesitation across his face. You don’t like the way he thinks, with quiet, lost eyes and no clear giveaways on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You smile in relief though you try somewhat to not let it show on your face. 

“On one condition.”

Your eyes dart across his face, nothing that tells what he might suggest next. You hate when you don’t get to decide on things.

“You have to come visit my family next month and pose as my soulmate—”

“No way.”

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.”

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

“Fine,” you say finally, voice pitched in slight annoyance.

Jaehyun shrugs.

“But I tell my parents that I rejected you. Or they’ll come after you with a task force or something.”

You mutter the last part.

He grimaces, holding his breath for a good few seconds and then letting it go.

“Alright. It’s not like mine and your parents know each other—or will ever meet.”

“Fine then,” you say. “We have an agreement.”

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

Now, back to more pressing matters. The people in front of you aren’t a stupid lot—even if you've seen Doyoung spend $500 on plush toys, seen Sicheng absentmindedly walk into a desk and pretend to not be in pain for the next five minutes and Soojin somehow convinced a senior to get her coffee because she thought he was an intern (in her defence, it worked). 

The only way is to act through. You clear your throat.

"We… we discovered it last week. Our signs match."

Technically, you drew an arrow with a permanent marker over Jaehyun's tattoo in an attempt to resemble yours. It's not awful, but perhaps not perfect. 

“Discovered? Like just happened to find out?” Doyoung asks.

“Isn’t Jaehyun’s on…” Soojin leans in to whisper hurriedly in your ear. “On his butt? Did you guys sleep together?”

You contort your face in disgust. “The what? What? Who told you that? And no.”

Soojin makes an ‘ah’ sound and leans back. “I should stop listening to office rumours then.”

"You should." You glare at her.

Sicheng is the only one without questions at the tip of his tongue but the look on his face worries you most. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoo, now that I think about it,” he muses, turning to Jaehyun. “Although we’re roommates.”

Jaehyun clears his throat, looking around with shifty eyes. "Why is… why is everyone looking so suspicious?"

"It's just… so sudden," Soojin says, looking around at the others.

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

"Soulmate fraud is a big deal too, you know that right?" Doyoung informs. "You could get put in jail."

You throw up your hands in exasperation. "Why would we pretend? We don't have any reason to. And, uh, you're sure about the jail thing?"

You look at Doyoung, hoping your question didn’t come off too squeaky. 

"You’re right,” he says, sighing. “It’s so unlikely for soulmates to work in the same company, let alone the same building.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so lucky,” you mutter under your breath.

Doyoung sighs. "Look, we're happy for you. It's just that… it's a little sudden."

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

"Literally what she just said," Doyoung agrees quickly, not wanting to pick a fight. Sometimes you wonder who the real boss is.

"Look, just because we don't even acknowledge each other or find each other remotely attractive or wouldn't even be each other's office Christmas card candidate—"

Jaehyun nudges your side with his elbow and gives you a look that seems a lot like "You're making it worse".

You clear your throat. "That's what happens to most soulmates! You think you're going to land the perfect one and boom. You get a chump from marketing."

Jaehyun makes a sound of protest. "I didn't want a snob from HR either."

The two of you glare at each other, and you find that clenching his jaw makes Jaehyun slightly (around 0.05%) more attractive, or at the very least more bearable to look at.

Doyoung gasps. "Okay, I get it. You're having adjustment issues. I know a guy for that. He's helped every newly found soulmate couple adjust with each other."

"We don't need that," you interrupt, offering your fakest smile.

"You do," Doyoung responds, his smile equally fake. "I'll drive you this weekend if you're free. He’ll give you one free session. No more, because we all know how capitalism works."

People have got to stop copying your fake smile. You wish you could have it copyrighted because after all, it’s the same smile that tricks interviewees into thinking they got the job. It’s not evil if you say it isn’t. You open your mouth, look at Jaehyun doing the same and when you can't come up with an excuse, give up and nod. 

"Don't look so resentful," Doyoung says, tone slightly complaining. "I'm not doing this as your boss. We were friends in college and I'm just doing you a favour. A friendly favour."

Soojin hums in deep thought. "I feel like this is some sort of nepotism."

"I feel like you should open a dictionary once in a while," Doyoung mutters, only to get a vaguely threatening look from Soojin.

"Anyway," Sicheng diverts, eyes curious when he turns to Doyoung. "Why did you call us here?"

"Ah." Doyoung's eyes widen. "I heard promotion rumours."

Sicheng lets out a loud huff of annoyance. "You summoned us here for company gossip?"

Doyoung crosses his arms. “So, you’re not interested?”

“Who said that?” Sicheng responds quickly, leaning in.

The five of you huddle closer in a circle, looking as conspicuous as a cult. 

“You guys know that Jinyoung’s leaving, right?” Doyoung starts.

Soojin gasps audibly only to get a smack on the arm from Doyoung. “Why’s he leaving? He's like employee of the month every month. ”

A few chuckles pass through the group at her discontentment from months of losing out on the title.

“I heard he found his soulmate. Lucky ass gets tax benefits too now,” Sicheng complains. “Why is he leaving?”

“Oh, look who’s interested in gossip now,” Soojin coos.

Sichengs turns red in the face and looks away, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna answer my question, Doyoung?”

“Oh! Right.” Doyoung looks up from a text. “He got rejected by his soulmate.”

Soojin covers her mouth this time when she gasps and you can’t say your jaw doesn’t drop as well. 

“Rejected? Like our picture-perfect Jinyoung got rejected?” you repeat, trying to process the information. “Please don’t tell me he decided to be an idiot and sign a mutual rejection.”

“No, he didn’t lose his senses,” Doyoung responds with a duh undertone. “He’s getting the compensation money.”

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jaehyun hums in agreement. There’s a hush over the group and you feel fear rise in your chest. You don’t want to be rejected. You’ve seen how happy Dongmin looks with his girlfriend—he’d reject you in a heartbeat. Of course, you could just receive the compensation money from the one-sided rejection and get it over with but you refuse to. It hurts to not be wanted. It hurts to not be wanted by someone who’s supposed to want you. To be specific, it hurts your pride. Every time you see the damn arrowed heart on Dongmin’s wrist, which he tries so hard to cover with his watch, you feel like throwing up. You’re glad yours isn’t as easy to spot—resting right above your hip bone.

“Anyway, someone’s getting promoted to that HR specialist position.”

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and you elbow him. “What’s with you?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, shrugging. “Isn’t it stupid to get your hopes up over a rumour?”

Doyoung breathes out. “Wow, (name) really sucked the life out of you, Jaehyun.”

You glare at him when Soojin breaks into a fit of laughter. “You- you know what that- you know what that sounds like, right?”

Your face contorts into disgust and you shake your head. “Let’s be more professional, alright, Soojin?”

She clears her throat and straightens her clothes, like a teenager being reprimanded. “I’m your senior. It’s embarrassing when you say that to me.”

Jaehyun speaks up and turns to you. “I think lunch break is almost over.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He smiles, dimples showing, but his eyes come off menacing.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You forgot about that stupid lunch promise. 

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

You groan and link your arm through Jaehyun’s, making him bite back a smile. What is it with men and getting weirdly happy about lunch?

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” you announce.

“Ooh, (name)’s ditching quality time with coworkers for dates now,” Soojin coos.

You roll your eyes and exit the office, stopping to wait in front of the elevator.

“I think that went well,” Jaehyun says, shrugging lightly.

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

“Do you think they’re X-men? We’re a long corridor and closed doors away.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

Jaehyun’s smug smile makes you want to smack it right off and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way with him. You swear he’s not as bad as some of the guys you’ve met but Jaehyun is simply annoying. An A grade nuisance. You can trust him though. If Soojin says he’s a reliable guy, you’ll believe her—she doesn’t bluff when it comes to seeing right through men, though she does have a tendency to believe stupid rumours.

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

Jaehyun lets out a low sardonic laugh. “At least I was subtle when I was messing up.”

You cross your arms and huff. “You know what? You can take the next elevator ride.”

“Huh?”

You step into the elevator just as the doors open and quickly jam your finger to the close doors button. The look of betrayal on Jaehyun’s face is subtle but it’s enough to satisfy you. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens—it’s very applicable to elevators. He can take the other one.

However, almost immediately after, the elevator doors open and you groan, opening your mouth to send a sarcastic congratulations to Jaehyun for pressing the button on time.

Your words hitch on your tongue. Dongmin greets the two of you with a smile, standing beside Jaehyun, who has his eyes averted from you.

“Hey,” Dongmin greets. “Congratulations. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” you croak, clearing your throat with a bit of heat on your cheeks. Jaehyun looks like he might burst into a fit of laughter any moment and you shoot him a subtle glare.

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m going to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.”

“We’re also headed to the cafeteria,” Jaehyun declares, with a smile that’s almost devilish.

“No, we’re not,” you say quickly, making Dongmin raise an eyebrow. You hold back a groan. If only Dongmin weren’t raised to be the politest man you know and a little bit more of an asshole. 

You hum and turn to Jaehyun. “I told you about that new cafe. Remember, honey?”

Dongmin makes an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Nicknames, already? Ah, I’m so jealous. It must be great to get along with your soulmate.”

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, won’t it take too long, darling? We have—”

He makes a show of checking his Rolex, a gift he received from his superior that he spares no chance to flex.

“—Around ten minutes left.”

You hold back a groan and plaster on your smile. “Come on. Now is the best time.”

“That sounds like a load of—”

You elbow Jaehyun hard in the gut and a restrained sound dies in his throat, eyes widening in the sweet look of discomfort taking over his features. You smile triumphantly and turn to Dongmin with an immediate change of expression.

“I’ll see you in office later,” you say, bowing slightly.

Dongmin nods and gets off on the fifth floor. You watch in quiet relief as the elevator door closes and turn to your dear companion, irked.

“Did you have to do that?” Jaehyun asks, voice raspy with pain.

“You deserved it. Don’t you dare make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You came up with it.” Jaehyun straightens, finally. Apart from the few loose strands of his neatly parted hair, he doesn’t seem all that disgruntled.

“And we’re going to set some ground rules,” you declare, closing your arms.

Jaehyun straightens to his full height, the space between the two of you diminishing. 

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we both get a say in it. It's a contract, after all."

"Fine. First rule, no being weird around Dongmin."

Jaehyun chuckles. "I think you need to be more careful about that than I do."

You pat his cheek. "Focus. Just don't- don't be around him for too long."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "Why are you so uncomfortable around him? I thought you were doing this because you didn't want to reject him."

You glance away, feeling uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want him to know."

Jaehyun hums. "Fine. My turn. No calling me a chump."

Your cheeks puff up as you try to contain your laughter. "It bothered you that much, huh?"

Jaehyun furrows his brows. "No one's ever called me that before. It's always 'oh my god, he's so handsome, who is he?' or 'ooh, I might faint from how hot he is'."

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

Jaehyun exhales, his puffed cheeks making him look like a resentful five year old instead of a grown man with a professional job. You pause before you get back on track.

“No nicknames,” you blurt. “It’s weird when you call me something endearing. And your flirting feels kind of threatening.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“See! You’re doing it again.” You cross your arms at the look on his face; anything close to victorious over Jaehyun’s features is unbearable to you.

He raises his arms in exasperation. “How are we supposed to make this work if we act like we don’t care about each other. Guess why Doyoung’s taking us to couple therapy?”

You huff, slightly pissed off. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“I’m saying we could have avoided that with better acting.”

“You think you’re so—”

The elevator door opens with a ding on the first floor and you turn to find a bunch of interns back from their lunch break. It would be much less of an awkward affair if you and Jaehyun weren’t well into each other’s personal spaces, noses almost touching and with a mutual glare which could be easily mistaken for a look of something more sensual. You jump away from Jaehyun and leave the elevator as fast as you can, feeling far too conscious of yourself. With long strides, you exit the corporate airs of the building to a sunny, fairly populous sidewalk. 

Jaehyun catches up to you, bending and trying to catch a glimpse of your face with an incredulous smile over his.

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

“That’s because of your trash sense of humour.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

Mondays are the days that make you want to scream in agony, not Thursdays—though they are pretty high up on the worst days of the week list. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe pretending to be in love with someone you simply cannot be in love with is an awful idea. 

Soulmates don’t need to be in love with each other, you think to yourself. There’s plenty of soulmates who are just in it for the financial benefits; you can just pretend to be one of them. This dilemma is starting to fray your nerves and Jung Yoonoh, with his lax disposition and dimpled cheeks, is making it worse. And to top it off, you now have to take him to your favourite (kind of secret) cafe in the name of the lies that slipped your tongue. It was supposed to be a quiet comfort spot for you.

You blow a puff of air out and dismiss the thought. Comfort spots aren’t real anyway when you’re all grown. There’s bound to be a breach. 

However, you will not let the (lacking) romance department of your life get sorted out by someone who doesn’t even know you. Lady luck would be an acquaintance to you at most. If fate is a game of chance after all, you might as well be the one spinning the roulette. You look at Jaehyun, piecing together the perfect plan for this seemingly frivolous play-pretend. The game is in your hands now. 

You blink at the figure of Jung Yoonoh under February sunlight on a modestly busy sidewalk. It’s not something to be surprised at—however, the stark contrast in attire makes you stare longer than you intend to. Wearing a black graphic hoodie and pair of worn out jeans, Jaehyun looks about as casual as you can bear. It’s always weird to see coworkers out of formal clothing.

“Are you just going to stare at me till Doyoung comes and picks us up?” he asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“You look nice,” he says, and you glance down at your outfit with a flush of heat over your cheeks. It’s just a short A-line skirt, stockings and a sweatshirt. This is as basic as you get. What’s worse is that his comment didn’t sound sarcastic.

“You- You look nice too. I guess.” Once in a while, you will say something extremely stupid and pretend it never happened. The frequency increases around Jaehyun for some damn reason.

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage. 

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts. 

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring. 

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away. 

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.” 

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh. 

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way? 

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful. 

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love. 

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing. 

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter. 

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do. 

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back. 

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him. 

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front. 

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all. 

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window. 

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment. 

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews. 

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door. 

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to. 

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now. 

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut. 

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down. 

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” 

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough. 

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

//

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance. 

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty. 

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity. 

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces. 

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile. 

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all. 

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face. 

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?” 

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized. 

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly. 

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.” 

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now. 

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.  

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to. 

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively. 

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner. 

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily. 

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature. 

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct. 

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling. 

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you. 

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[widow-maximov]

I'll be your knight

Pairing: Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, angst, smut.

Summary: Dealing with sexism is a real struggle but eventually a line is crossed and anger is unleashed.

A/n: This is my first time writing smut so hopefully it's good enough :3

Word count: 3.5k

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Being an Avenger isn't easy, especially for any women that join the life style of a hero. You had to put up with sexist comments all the time, most of the time it didn't really bother you but the more you heard random men talking about your best friend like she was some toy, the more it annoyed you.

The comments towards you stopped when you were recruited by Tony Stark, there was some level respect for you and you kind of liked it.

You had some issues with opening up to the team but when Wanda, showed you they are harmless, you slowly opened up more and more as you knew that they were going to be your new family from now on.

Everyone on the team warned you about the one particular redhead but you didn't listen, you wanted to be her friend, she looked scary but is an actual softie, but only around you.

It took time for the Russian to even greet you when she saw you but for you it was worth it, you respected her and always been there for her when she had no one to turn to.

She warmed up to you as she saw the security you were offering her, and you never backed down from your offer, she wasn't keen on your presence but had to learn to accept it.

Even if she didn't trust you fully, that was okay. You trusted her with everything because you knew she was a human just like you and no doubt needed someone to lean on.

⸻⸻⋙☸Flashback☸⋘⸻⸻

You walked around, exploring the place that now it was your new home, you never saw anything more fancy than this place, the room you were staying in was more than enough for 4 people.

Your own tv along with your own big walk in closet and your own bathroom, literally a five star hotel, you didn't complain at all, you were just shocked at how spacious this all was.

Each room was bigger than the other and it was starting to get all confusing, when you left the room, you would get mixed up with the way you walked in.

You loved it but at the same time you hated it, you accidently bumped into the Russian, she looked sweaty in her work out clothes and you stared at her with awkwardness.

She eyed you and cleared her throat, attempting to walk past you and continue where she was going but you stopped her "I'm sorry to disturb you but I just want to know where I can find the gym"

You rubbed your neck awkwardly "I- um- I tried searching everywhere but I'm lost"

Usually when people stutter around Natasha, it meant they were obviously attracted to her but with how you stood and looked away from her just showed her that you were afraid of her.

She didn't smile or anything "Walk straight until you reach the end of the hall and turn left"

You looked at her but she was already on her way so you shouted "Thank you!"

You made your way with her instructions of where to go, she knew how to hide her emotions but it was totally shocking for you how she never had a smile across her lips.

This was your first real conversation, not the hello's or goodbye's. It was a proper conversation, well kind of a proper but it was a start and that's what made you happy.

Second encounter with the redhead was a lot better, the two of you actually had a normal conversation in the morning, you were barely awake so coffee was your way of helping with that.

Walking into the kitchen, not really expecting anyone up early this morning, but the sight of the yawning Russian met your eyes, you smiled at her the best you could as you turned to make yourself a coffee.

"You know there is a coffee maker here?" Her naturally raspy voice spoke which caused you to look at her.

"Yeah I seen it but I have no idea how to use it" You confessed, you weren't embarrassed, you just weren't that fancy to ever own one or even be around one.

She turned around without a word and pulled out a cup, placing it underneath the little nozzle and within seconds the coffee poured out, she took the cup and placed it down as she slid it towards you.

You looked at her and then back at the coffee "Thank you Natasha"

She nodded as she sipped on her own drink "Since you are the only person who is up right now, you mind taking a look at this report, I'm not really sure what it means"

You was taken back, she was asking you for help? Shouldn't she know all of the reports like the back of her hand? She noticed your silence "Or you don't have to, I'll probably figure-"

"No, no I have nothing to do today so I don't mind helping" You smiled and took the coffee with you as you followed her into the room where she had a loads of reports laid out.

You looked at all of them "You know you can work on two reports at a time?"

She nodded "I know but the more I do within a certain time, the less I have later on"

You nodded as you sipped your warm coffee, it was very different to what you were used to, but this was definitely easier to get used to. It was the first time Natasha spent more than 2 minutes with you and you were more than happy to accept that.

So from that time, the two of you worked every morning with each other on reports, you learnt so much from her and in some way she learnt more about you rather than from you, she was impressed by your calmness with her constant questions.

To be fair you wanted to open up to the Russian, she had that safety vibe coming of her and you knew that she would never betray you or your trust that you put in her.

The mornings spent on reports also turned into evenings and soon there was movies every other day, she loved horror movies but you on the other hand loved action movies, there was plenty of action as a hero of the world but it never was enough.

She started to show herself around you more often and you really liked how you could make her laugh with simply couple words. She loved how close she gotten to you and how you trusted her with everything.

She had some doubt but you were always to reassure her, she was thankful for it each time, so in return she would ask you questions about yourself and you never hesitated for a moment to tell her.

⸻⸻⋙☸End☸⋘⸻⸻

But the problem was that not everyone saw it like that, they saw her for her body but not for her heart which is one of many reasons to why she was slow at opening up.

It angered you that people didn't want to treat her like anyone else, just because she was gorgeous didn't automatically make her less of a human.

Today was one of those days where you were busy, like busy busy, overloaded with bunch of reports that needed to be sorted before the next day, so you spent your whole day in you room, you glared at the clock on the wall.

You was doing this for 6 hours straight, no breaks so you decided to just do that. You stood up and stretched out, walking out of your room without anyone around, it did ignite curiosity in you so you walked around cautiously to see what was the deal.

Three of your teammates with two random agents were placed on the couch in the living room, trapping Natasha in between them, from her body language she didn't want to be there.

Bruce and Bucky along with Steve seem to laugh at the agents jokes, you moved closer to the door as you listened to what they were saying.

"Come on Natasha, you should do that power pose and show off that body" One of the agents spoke up as they eyed the Russian.

The other agent tried to move closer to her but hesitated, knowing she could easily tackle him "You can't let that body go to waste"

The anger was raising as words spilled out of their mouths, why didn't Steve stop them? Did he really think that as well?

"I was near to tapping that ass but you know women" Bruce made a comment as he laughed along with the agents.

"If she dyed her hair blonde, the amount of jokes we could make then" Bucky smirked as he spoke loudly.

Natasha was just taking in all of the comments, you could see across her face that she didn't enjoy it at all, so she stood up and what they did next made you finally act.

They all looked at her ass and whistled "Romanoff, you should dance for us, show off those curves"

"I am a little hungry as well, you might as well move that pretty ass of yours and make us something to eat" One of the agents spoke up as he laughed.

You walked in as you raised your brows at the 5 men sitting and eyeing Natasha as a piece of meat, you pulled her into you causing her to jump a little but relax when she realised it was you.

They all looked at you and the other agent smirked "Are yous going to put on a lesbian show for us?"

Now you wasn't just unimpressed but also pissed, you pulled yourself away from the Russian as you stepped forwards in front of Natasha "Listen here you little dick, If I hear that you even looked at Natasha in any way, I will fucking haunt you and make sure you don't live to see tomorrow"

His friend was terrified, he gulped when you looked at him "As for you, I want you to go and make her a fucking five star meal and if it's not good, I swear to god you'll regret being born"

He shook his head so fast as he stood up but you stopped him with your powers "You want a show? I will fucking give you a show"

You gripped his face, squishing his cheeks very firmly, your hand started to glow blue as you made him hallucinate that he was in pain, from the fact that he couldn't move and he felt as if his skin was being peel off he only could scream.

You looked at the 4 men who looked very terrified of you, your eyes had flames and you wasn't going to go easy, on neither of them "If any of you ever comment anything sexist or inappropriate about any woman, including Natasha. I will make your life a living hell"

"Do yous understand?"

They shook their heads and scattered away from you as fast as they could, you let go of the dude in front of you, he looked weak but he gotten up so fast that you could swear he had powers as well.

You turned towards Natasha, worried "Are you okay? Did they touch you?"

You looked her up and down as you made your way towards her, she shook her head with a small smile. You pulled her into a hug as a single tear slid down Natasha's face.

You pulled away as you wiped that tear off with your thumb "Why didn't you act Nat?"

"What's the point? It wont stop them from saying what they want Y/n/n"

The pain in your heart was strong at the words, how could any woman not be scared of what could happen if they do protest against men.

You cupped her face as you looked into her eyes "Natasha Romanoff, I promise you that I will protect you from their filthy mouths"

She smiled, this time it met her eyes which caused you to smile. You crushed on Natasha for a long time and promised yourself that when the time was right you would tell her but each time it was harder to do so.

Her and Bruce at the time were something but when she decided to break it off, you were there for her you told her she didn't need to tell you the reason to why she decided that but reassured her that it was probably a good reason to do so.

Now you are holding her face as her eyes are locked with yours, you could feel those butterflies in your stomach raise up "I will be your knight in casual clothes because armour isn't my style"

She laughed with her whole heart, causing you to laugh as well "Gosh I love you.."

You froze at her words, and so did she, her eyes widen at her words but she knew there was no way out of this so she pulled her sleeve and started to fidget with it.

Your hands were on her face but dropped at those words, you stood still trying to understand what just happened, she continued as she looked down "I hope that's okay but I love you Y/n"

You couldn't believe your ears, the woman who always had trouble opening up, right now was vulnerable with her whole heart to you and you was stuck, frozen as you stared at her.

"I never had anyone stand up for me the way to did today, I started to realise that I had feelings that one day when you were near to death on that mission" She was still fidgeting with her sleeve.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way but you just needed to know.." She confessed, she was standing in front of you holding her heart out in her hands, offering you to take it.

You smiled whole heartily as you looked into her eyes when you pulled her face by her chin "It's more than okay Tasha"

Your hands dropped to her hips as you pulled her in closer to you "Because I love you too"

That look in her eyes, you could see that she had those butterflies too, her eyes locked with yours, she tilted her head slightly to the side and crashed her lips against yours.

Her hands were placed on the back of your neck pulling you deeper into her kiss, you slowly backed her into the wall and when her back hit the wall, she gasped which you used the opportunity to slide your tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss became heated real quick, forgetting that the two of you were still in the public place, only when someone cleared their throat, make the two of you look where the sound came from.

Natasha hid her face in the crook of your neck as she quietly laughed at how awkward that is, you pulled yourself away from her as you looked in the direction of Tony, who looked at you with pure disgust.

"As if you never done this, but sorry you had to witness..." You rolled your eyes at him at first but looked over at Natasha who was still leaning on the wall "This"

She smiled as she intertwined her hand with yours and tugged it to pull you out of the living room, the two of you made it to her room but it wasn't long before you reclaimed her lips with your own.

This time it was a little bit more gentle, you backed her up to the bed as the back of her leg hit the bed frame, before you pushed her back and claimed on top of her.

The only light was the moonlight that was shining through the blinds, you kissed her passionately and redirected your kisses down to her neck, she moved her face to the side giving you more access to her neck.

You left marks as you slightly stank your teeth in but sucked the spot right after, earning a few small moans from the redhead beneath you, she was slowly turning into a mess but she managed to slightly pull you away.

"Don't you have a lot of work?" She asked a little worried but lust was more visible.

"It can wait" You declared as you looked into her eyes "Are you sure you want this?"

She smiled at you being caring and asking for consent "I want this детка (baby)"

You smirked as you placed a soft kiss on her lips and returned to her neck, giving it a couple more kisses and slowly moving down, the only thing that stopped you was the material of her clothes.

She slightly lifted herself off as you pulled her shirt off, exposing her upper body, you looked at her in admiration, her eyes had slight doubt across them but you were quick to reassure her.

"You are beautiful Tasha" You meant every word that came out of your mouth.

There was a blush across her cheeks as she smiled at you, your hand reached for the back of her bra as you unhooked it and pulled it off her.

You took couple of seconds to admire the view before attaching your mouth to her nipple, she bit her bottom lip to prevent her from moaning.

Your free hand glued itself to the other breast, giving it the same amount of attention as your mouth did, you moved your lips to her ear as your hand kept playing with her now hard nipple.

"I want to hear you Natty" You whispered into her ear and with that Natasha moaned into your ear causing a small smirk to settle on your lips.

You continued to kiss down her body until you reached the bottom of her stomach, you looked up at her to see if she was okay, she nodded to give you the confirmation.

You pulled her shorts off along with her underwear, exposing the bottom half of her body, you could smell her arousal which only fuel you on.

You teased her as you kissed her inner thigh, leaving marks there as well, you would from time to time lock eyes with her. You moved closer to her pussy, teasing her with your tongue causing some frustrated moans to escape her mouth.

Her hips would buck as you would teasingly lick her wet folds, she looked down at you as her eyes were consumed with lust "Please Y/n! Just fuck me already"

That's all you needed to hear before you attached your mouth to her dripping pussy, giving her clit the attention first as the more louder moans escaped her mouth.

You gripped her with your hands as your tongue worked it's magic against her hard clit, she was gripping the bed sheets as moans were spilling out of her lips, not caring if anyone heard.

You moved one of your hands as you slipped one of your fingers inside her and without letting her adjust you started to thrust into her, the feeling of pleasure was building up quickly in the bottom of her stomach with each thrust.

"Oh god" Those were the only words she managed to choke out, she was soaked which stoked up your own arousal along with her moans.

Her hips were quick to match your pace as you thrusted, bringing her closer and closer, you pushed the second finger inside and this time you curled the two fingers, hitting her spot all over again.

One of her hands gripped your arm as her nails dug into your skin, the other hand was still tightly gripping the bedsheet, her head was thrown back as you came up to her face.

Your pace of your fingers never slowing down but thrusting harder and fast "Let me show you how you should be treated instead darling.."

You kissed her lips as she moaned, you moved back down as you felt her walls tighten, knowing she was about to cum. You pushed your fingers even deeper into her, her breathing was heavy letting out low and loud moans.

You watched as the orgasm consumed Natasha with your name falling freely from her lips, you slowed down your thrusts to let her ride out her orgasm, holding her steady pulling your fingers out of her as you licked her clean, and moved back up to her lips.

Kissing her as she slightly moaned at the taste of herself into the kiss, you pulled away from her as she was still breathing heavily, staring into your eyes with a smile.

"Now it's your turn" She spoke in between breathes.

You shook your head "Not today darling, today's focus is you.."

You stripped yourself naked as you pressed your warm body against Natasha, glaring at the marks you left and holding her tight in your arms as she slowly calmed down from her high.

You were sure in this moment that you wanted to hear her moan your name till the rest of your life, it was the music to your ears and you didn't want it any other way.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

If you want to join my tag list, click here and enjoy my future posts.

Tag-list: @diaryoflife,@wandanatblogs,@madamevirgo, @eilarch

[fireflykaizoku]

Hey!! I'm obsessed with your soulmates swap aus, really i love them they're so good i can't even explain 😭

Could i ask you one with kid but no one can really see they exchanged bodies 'cause they are literally the same? Like y/n has the same character as kid so they seems literally the same as always and it's quite a problem.

Thank you if you do, have a nice day 💕

helloo anon my love! ❤ i'm so so glad you like them! i'm sorry i took long, by the way! but here it is, and i hope you like it! have a nice day ❤

— What are you looking at? — you snapped at someone at the bar. That person was looking at you for you don’t even know how long.

— (Y/N), calm down. It’s your birthday, don’t stress trying to fight again. — one of your friends asked, holding your arm. — Just leave it.

You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. It was easy for you to get irritated and start a fight, you had quite a temper, and honestly, you don’t know how your friends put up with you. The only reason why you didn’t get into more fights, it was because of them.

— I swear, your soulmate better be someone calm. — another friend giggled. — Imagine if they have that temper.

— It’d be a chaos. — you laughed, forgetting about the fight you almost started before. — But I guess the world couldn’t handle a couple like that. I hope they’re level headed.

It was late when you went back home, and you fell asleep right after, hoping you wouldn’t have a hangover the next morning.

Your peaceful slumber got interrupted with a loud bang on the door. Since when your roommate got so aggressive? You barely had time to open your eyes, and realize you were sitting on a chair, in front of a desk, in a room that wasn’t yours. It smelled like oil and metal. What an awful time to switch bodies with your soulmate.

You knew it’d happen eventually, but it wasn’t something you looked forward to, unlike your friends who acted as if it was such an event.

— Kid, the ship just docked. — someone said. — We’ll go get some supplies and head to a bar.

— Go away! — you screamed, still in shock while looking at that body which obviously wasn’t yours.

The man had scars on his chest and right arm, while apparently he didn’t have his left arm, replaced with a heavy mechanical one. You looked at the long coat over your shoulder, the vest and his pants and couldn’t help laughing at his fashion taste. How tacky.

— What a clown. — you whispered to yourself, still laughing. — Out of all people, this is my soulmate? How lucky…

You got up and headed to a bathroom, maybe when you washed your face and actually felt awake, you could find a solution to switch back and go home. Looking at the broken and dirty mirror, your soulmate was very attractive. He had red hair, no eyebrows, a scar on the left side of his face, and goggles. He’s someone you’d look at if you saw him at a bar.

— Now, how do I find him? — you asked yourself. — Well, if he’s in my body, I’ll call my house. I’m sure there’s a den den mushi here somewhere.

When you left the bathroom, you tried to find the transponder snail. It took a while, walking from room to room, but you finally spotted one in what seemed to be the captain’s bedroom. You started calling your house, hoping that your soulmate would answer.

— What?! — the man answered. — If you’re the person who is in my body, you better find a way to switch back.

— Look, I’m not happy with this situation either. I want to go back to my body, so what do we do now?

He sighed, obviously as annoyed as you were.

— I’m the captain of this ship, so you tell my crew to come here to your island so we can switch back. Don’t let people know what’s going on, I don’t want anyone to know about that. I have a damn reputation.

— Are you even that relevant? — you laughed.

— Watch it, just because you’re my soulmate it doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up before replying. First, you went to the kitchen, feeling thirsty. Luckily they had some beer. You took one, and soon enough, you found one of the crew members that stayed on the ship. You demanded to go to your island quick.

— We need to go there. It’s important, and don’t ask any questions, I’ll be working on something or whatever.

You went back to Kid’s workshop, slamming the door behind you. Being in another body was annoying. You didn't know who this person was, you were far from home, and his mechanical arm was so heavy it was bothering you.

When a tall blonde man wearing a mask knocked on the door, opening it right after, you just told him to go away, threatening to throw something at him if he didn’t leave. After that, everyone left you alone.

The only time when anyone knocked on the door after that, was the next morning, when someone said they arrived at the destination.

Finally!

— I’ll be back soon. I don’t want neither of you following me around, got it? — you asked and the crew nodded.

You left the ship, going towards your house. And when the door opened you saw your figure, which was very weird.

— Took you long enough! — he said with a frown. — How do we switch back now?

— I should’ve know you don’t understand about soulmates. — you sighed. — We need to kiss.

— Is that all? — he seemed surprised, thinking it was too easy to be true. — Then let’s kiss now!

— It’s not a simple kiss, you fool. It’s a kiss when we’re in love, which it’s probably not going to happen, so we need to figure something out.

Kid yelled, complained, cussed, and finally accepted how things really were. You two tried to talk without bickering on each other, trying to think of another solution. And after a long discussion, with you yelling at him, both decided that you needed to stay with him on the Victoria Punk until you could switch back.

The crew kept whispering, curious about who was that small person that their Captain just brought to the ship. Maybe an affair? A new member or an ally? No one dared to ask him directly, though, especially since he was in a bad mood.

Kid still didn’t want the crew to know, even though Killer was smart enough and could probably help. You spent many times together at his workshop, seeing him work while you complained you were bored. At night, you two agreed that sleeping in his room would be the best. The red haired man let you keep the bed, saying he didn’t want his body to be sick or in pain, apparently. Whenever his mechanical arm got too heavy, he tried to ease the weight or help you take it off.

Eventually, you had longer conversations with him, seeing you two had a lot in common, surprisingly.

The showers were a little weird, especially during the first few times, when he kept saying your body was very hot, making you feel flustered for the first time in your life. But after a while, it just felt normal.

It has been almost a month since you two met. The ship had docked and everyone was at a bar. A man was flirting with you, or well, with Kid, while thinking it was you. Indeed, you used to draw attention from people when you went out, and you forgot about that until a man was approaching Eustass, complimenting his beautiful looks.

Feeling annoyed, and perhaps even a little jealous thinking that other men wanted you, he got up from his sit and pulled you into a kiss. Of course, the crew had their eyes open. Who knew the mysterious person Kid brought was that straightforward, and who knew their captain would let someone steal a kiss from him.

The kiss wasn’t romantic or cute. It was full of passion and desire, it was unexpected and possessive, as if he was saying “you’re mine”. He bit your lip, and it felt like he was claiming you. Honestly, it was a good feeling, as if you’ve been waiting, without even knowing, for him to make this first move.

You felt butterflies, something you’ve never felt before.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his figure towering over you, and a grin that wouldn’t leave his face so soon. He pulled you closer, making it clear that you were his. He didn’t even ask, but your answer would be “yes” anyway.

— I can’t believe we finally switched back. — he laughed, flexing his arm. — I missed my body.

The crew gasped.

— Switch back? — Heat asked. — Wait, you were in (Y/N)’s body this whole time? And (Y/N) was in your body?

— I must say, I’m surprised. I couldn’t notice any difference. — Killer said. — You two are very alike.

At first, you two seemed offended until realizing the masked man was actually right. You two has the same personality, and it wasn’t what you expected your soulmate to be. Someone peaceful and quiet would be fun, but someone who could raise a little hell with you could be even better.

— You’re annoying sometimes, but I want you to sail with me anyway. — he said gently lifting your chin with his index finger, still with his signature smirk on his face.

[hansolmates]

tingle (m)

summary; your super hot, super sexy tattoo artist manages to catch you off guard mid-session. at least his touch keeps the pain off your mind. pairing; tattoo artist!jungkook x tattooed!reader (f) genre/warnings; sexual tension, im tellin u being naked in front of your tattoo artist is something, pining, roleplay, soft dom!jk, descriptions of tattooing needles and the pain associated with it, rough language, man bun koo, really tender n slow lovin, mc has nice soft squishy boobies, heeavvyyy use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 1.3k a/n; we’ve unleashed tattoo artist!koo. it’s time. based on this hellpost that won’t leave my mind. first drabble for cami’s 7k share tyty

if you like this please feel free to give it a like n’share. enjoy✨✨

When he touches your bare breast, he’s injecting more than just ink in your skin. 

By any means, this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve gotten tattoos before, in fact you remember how it took months for you to just let your mind kindly shut the fuck up so you could finally pick something out. You realized back then that there would never be a perfect placement or meaningful design that you had to cling to in order to get it done. Sometimes you have to do things simply because it feels right. 

Yet lying down on the leather bed, petal-covered tits out and free to grab (and he does, for leverage) you feel like a tattoo newbie as he angles the needle into your skin.

Jungkook’s fast and quick, they say. It’s why you chose him for this particular piece, a blooming lily in three parts, from a bud to a bloom that starts from the bottom of your sternum to the tops of your breasts. You’ve heard stories about how the sternum is the most painful area to ink, but you’ve had this idea in mind for literal years and you still haven’t been able to shake it off. You remember how badly you wanted to kiss him after seeing how beautiful the design looked on his iPad, but for the sake of professionalism you simply nodded your head and said you loved it. You’re sure it’s highly inappropriate to lay one on your tattoo artist for just doing their job. 

You wish you could see the ink as he’s working, but at the same time you’re excited to see the final project once it’s completely done. The only thing you can stare at is his face, dark brows furrowed in concentration as he scrutinizes every centimeter of his available space, making sure the shading is perfect as he goes in with his magnum. His eyes are bright and clear despite being in the shadows as he bends over your form, and the tips of his long hair wink against your vision as they pull out of his messy bun. 

“This part’s gonna hurt the most,” Jungkook mumbles more to himself than you, seemingly in a trance as he lifts his needle from the finished bud. The half-bloom sits right at the middle, and when he presses his finger in the spot you try not to visibly wince. The bone’s right there and you’ve already shed a couple tears from the first half hour. 

“I’ll try not to squirm,” you steel yourself, curling your toes as you prepare for the next round of needling. 

“Oh don’t worry, if you squirm I’ll just pin you down.” 

You could swear Jungkook’s squishes your breast a little firmer as he says that, but you chalk it up to him going back in and needing to move it around to touch up the inked bud. It’s not like he’ll fuck you on this table, the pain must be making you some kind of delusional if you’re fantasizing about your tattoo artist.  

Five minutes later he nicks you in a particularly sensitive spot, and you wince. You can’t help but shift away, kicking your legs. He's by his words, and Jungkook’s hand unflinchingly clamps down on your breast, pushing you into the leather. From the corner of your eye, you see the way your skin bubbles between Jungkook’s inked fingers, the fat from your breast practically spilling over his knuckles. 

Neither of you say anything as he switches needles, opting for a thinner one in order to start the illustration. 

Once the sharp metal pricks your skin, you exhale. Your eyes open slightly to see a thin smile veiled onto Jungkook’s petal pink lips. 

“Good girl,” it rolls off his tongue like honey and butter, and you have to clench your thighs and press every centimeter of your body to the table in order to not flip your shit. 

It hurts, obviously. The needle goes straight to your heart, akin to the heat that pools between your thighs as you repeat his praise over and over in your head. You feel your bones vibrate in your chest as he goes in, but you want to do well for him so you force yourself to stay put. 

You’re sure he means nothing by the nickname–or pet name in your dirty mind. Jungkook and all the other artists in Jamais Vu are known to be flirty when they want to. You’re sure he’s said that to dozens of other customers, considering his books are always full and his Instagram is filled with attractive men and women inked in the most intimate of areas. 

“You say that to all your customers?” you finally pull the question from your throat, Jungkook taking a wet paper towel to rub away the excess ink. You fight your contented sighs as the cold fabric soothes your burn. 

He hums, drifting away from your body to zoom in his perched iPad. “Only the cute ones,” he teases lightly, and you hold your breath for the rest of the appointment. 

Jungkook’s slow and steady. 

“Whoever did that tatt must be a freakin’ genius,” Jungkook says between pumps, tugging your right breast to the side to marvel at the finished work. The adhesive bandage gleams in the low light of your shared bedroom, due to the television displaying a muted version of My Hero Academia with all it’s vast explosions and super-powered rocket thrusters. 

The only thrusting you’re concentrating on however, is the tender, thick drag of Jungkook’s cock slipping in and out of your wet folds. 

“Y-yeah I guess,” you whimper when he swipes his thumb over the nipple, and his dips down to give your new flowers tiny, petal soft kisses, “the artist was trying to hit on me, though. I could’ve sworn he was trying to cop a feel during our session.” 

“What a loser,” he chuckles at the running joke, his large hand dipping to the edge of your tummy. He links pinkies with yours along the way, and the both of you moan at the vision of where you couple between each other’s thighs. Thrust for thrust, his dick bulges and bloats your tummy in a way that has him gleaming with want. “Did you tell him you have a loving, far more talented boyfriend?” 

“Ah, n-no,” it’s clearly the wrong answer, as Jungkook slips away from you and sits on his calves, thick golden thighs expanding tauntingly as he strokes his heady member right between your eyes.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he sighs, as if disappointed with your choices. 

“I am a good girl,” you whine, “your good girl.” 

“Then tell me what you’re really thinking.” 

Your teasing, sexy boyfriend makes no moves to touch you, pretending to be wrapped up in his own pleasure. His mouth parts, jaw slackening as his eyes flutter shut when the motion starts to increase in pace. 

“Mm, would’ve—would’ve let him fuck me on the tattoo bed if he asked,” you mentally beg for him to open your eyes and watch you, but you can’t wait. Your fingers travel across your stomach and down to sensitive bud, rubbing the slick pearl, “y-yes, really wanted him—no, I really wanted you to bend me over in front of everyone, Jungkook. P-please, I’m so good, l-let me cum–” 

Your ministrations stop as soon as Jungkook’s hand covers your own. He never got particularly rough, but his grip is firm as he replaces your hand with his own. His eyes are blown wide, his hand sticky with your combined arousals. 

“Stop moving,” he whispers in your ear, and you tamp the urge to cry when he pinches your clit,  “or else I’m gonna have to pin you down again.” 

[sxlver-sweet]

Please i'm begging youu i want to see more fantasy au for tokrev and that pirate would be so good i even have some idess on me already 😩

–🎴

I HAD A FUCKING FIELD DAY WITH THIS I WANNA HEAR YOUR IDEAS PLS SHARE

i’m currently sleep-deprived, so some of these are probably really basic and there’s most likely errors somewhere in here skdkcmdksk

also, requests may be closed, but discussions and more ideas are absolutely welcome.

faerie!kokonoi, who preys on the heartbroken drunkards at upscale bars, listening with a secretive smile as they spill their life stories to the bartender. silver-tongued and clever, kokonoi purrs his condolences, slipping their name into the conversation with ease and feigning oblivion when they, cloudy-eyed and ignorant, hand over their precious bank information and the locations of their valuables.

tailor!mitsuya unable to concentrate on stitching up a torn dress with the incessant clanging in the background and snapping at blacksmith!pah-chin, who’s busy forging knight!baji a new sword. mitsuya chastises baji for being so careless, but all baji does is grumble and turn away, black oil and dirt smeared on his flushed cheeks and long hair clinging to his sweat-stained forehead from his previous sparring session.

wizard!mitsuya spinning golems out of clay and shooing them away with an order to find him more materials to craft matching cloaks for his newest apprentices, luna and mana.

leprechaun!nahoya luring unsuspecting villagers into the forest with the promise of gold coins, only to send branches crashing down onto their heads when they venture far enough. they shout irately and scramble after him as he tumbles, laughing, into the shadows… but it’s no use. he’s too fast.

mermaid!yuzuha punching the shit out of pirates and dragging them down from their ships when they disturb and/or hunt the peaceful merfolk

knight!draken pledging his life to princess!emma

werewolf!baji, who appears to casually laugh off questions about his sharp, prominent canines; when in reality, when he’s secretly sweating bullets. werewolf!baji, whom the others wrinkle their noses at and tease when he orders his steak rare. werewolf!baji, who can’t hide the particularly ferocious, almost predatory glint in his eye that only appears during brawls after the sun has fallen. everyone laughs it off, mistaking his bloodlust for adrenaline. it’s only baji, he’s just intense, they reason.

half-blood!takemichi, who leaps through time with the protective blood of a phoenix coursing through his veins. half-blood!takemichi, whose blood aids him in resisting the beckon of death that pries at the empty body he habitually leaves behind and enables him to keep rising back to his feet no matter who knocks him down.

dybbuk!shinichiro, whose rage inhabits mikey’s body, only flaring to aid in crushing kazutora beneath his little brother’s fist. dybbuk!shinichiro, who plucks away at mikey’s sanity day in and day out, demanding for his death to be avenged. dybbuk!shinichiro, who is the reason that mikey can no longer set foot in his bike shop, because no matter how hard he tries, mikey can’t seem to shut out the eerie groaning of forgotten bikes as they rust away or the crackling squelch of metal colliding with bone that he’s positive he’s never heard before—so why is he hearing it now?

executioner!kazutora, who has no problem with the unjust slaughters that tyrant!kisaki approves, because his unchecked guilt can only be satiated by “cleansing the kingdom of immoral souls.” executioner!kazutora, who hums a crude tavern song as he takes his sweet time lining up his blade with the neck of the shivering woman hunched before him—the shivering woman whose only crime is swiping some bread to feed her starving family. executioner!kazutora, who only finds retribution in the twisted cycle of playing the role of god’s “divine” axe.

knight!toman forming a wall in front of their king to square off against an approaching army, a measly one hundred men with fire in their eyes and swords dripping with blood—a measly one hundred men fully prepared to offer up their lives to protect king!mikey.

jester!hanma, who flirts with the women of the court and openly takes cheap shots at tyrant!kisaki, regardless of whether or not he’s in the vicinity. still, it doesn’t matter how humorous the joke is. no one dares to allow even a twitch of their lips. how hanma hasn’t been executed yet, they don’t know.

pirate!nahoya, who cackles like a madman and jeers at an opposing ship from his place perched atop the crow’s nest

apothecary!souya meeting his future s/o in a field of lavender while he’s searching for fresh herbs. apothecary!souya, who’s mortified by the chalky powder spattered on his overalls and runs a hand through his hair, accidentally smearing a yellow dust through his blue curls. apothecary!souya, who blushes when you kindly offer to brush the powder from his hair. apothecary!souya, who offers you one of the dandelions peeking from his pocket as a gesture of gratitude.

ladies-in-waiting!emma and hina scurrying off to deliver empty dishes to cook!mitsuya, who leans forward expectantly to hear the latest gossip when they approach him with sparkling eyes and poorly concealed smiles.

adviser!draken storming into king!mikey’s private chambers without an invitation to shout at him for neglecting his duties and drag him by the ankle out of bed

sorceress!hina enchanting a four-leaf clover necklace with a spell to keep knight!takemichi safe in battle

spymaster!sanzu scaring the shit out of his scribe!s/o whenever he pops up in the windows of the library in all black with no prior warning

doll-maker!izana, who lives in a secluded area of the woods with his apprentice kakucho and obsessively lines his shelves with replicas of the older brother he wishes he had

knight-in-training!chifuyu working extra hard to impress knight!baji, who had recruited him and taken him under his wing

steampunk inventor!chifuyu, who’s never seen without his trademark goggles that kazutora always pokes fun at and threadbare overalls splattered with oil stains. inventor!chifuyu, who nearly has a heart attack when baji hobbles in on one leg, grinning at him with a face swollen with bruises while waving his detached prosthetic leg in greeting. inventor!chifuyu, who keeps wrenches on his belt specifically to hurl at his idiot friends whenever they come into his shop all beat-up with their bronze prosthetics severely damaged

steampunk!hanma, who has a glass eye with the word “pain” engraved on the iris. steampunk!hanma, who asks kisaki to hold something for him. when the latter holds his hand out with an exasperated sigh, hanma sets his replacement eye in his palm and cackles hysterically when kisaki promptly jolts with disgust and chucks it across the room

cyberpunk!sanzu, who’s already inebriated but continues to drown deeper in the neon lights of the club as he pops an array of glowing pills into his mouth, body numb to the robotic assistants that hum around him and intermingle with the equally delirious crowd in case someone were to collapse from overdosing

masquerade!mitsuya, who smiles at you with such kindness and respect as he guides you onto the marble floor that you immediately resolve to discover his identity at a later date

masquerade!kakucho, who does everything in his power to prevent you from uncovering his identity. masquerade!kakucho, who fears that you’ll be disgusted with his deformed appearance once you see his scar.

samurai!yuzuha, who rescues you from a band of thieves but is perplexed when you insist on repaying her goodwill. samurai!yuzuha, who eventually starts coming to you whenever she needs her wounds bandaged or a home-cooked meal. samurai!yuzuha, who refuses to let you touch her sword with your pure, unsullied hands.

potion-maker!ran, who always despises when rindou barges into his workspace for nothing else than to tip over a couple jars and poke fun at his craft. potion-maker!ran, whose skin and hair have been permanently imprinted with the scent of clove and allspice berries. potion-maker!ran, who concocts love spells and perfumes that grant increased intimacy for the lovesick women who visit him when their own assets aren’t working. potion-maker!ran, who smiles charmingly and calls his female customers “darling.” potion-maker!ran, who has no problem with allowing them to test his products on him in order to guarantee their potency—but only if they’re attractive and have a pretty penny to spare :)

gunslinger!mikey, who almost shoots his big toe off trying to impress the beautiful barmaid across the room

servant!baji, who isn’t the slyest but always makes sure he leaves out a saucer of cream for the stray cats that wander through the town during the night, regardless of how much trouble he gets in. servant!baji, who develops a forbidden bond with his royal!s/o due to their shared love of animals. servant!baji, who is ignorant of the ways of courtship but does his best to flirt with you, however flustered and awkward he may be. servant!baji, who sheepishly seeks advice from his mother about how to impress royalty despite him being unable to offer you any material items.

necromancer!takemichi who doesn’t know wtf is going on and is literally only a necromancer because he fucked up reading a recipe for garlic bread that was written in cursive

vampire!kokonoi, who looks wistfully upon his collection of dusty, old perfume bottles as he recalls how they’d been the most expensive items on the market centuries ago. vampire!kokonoi, who possesses splintered, wooden chests overflowing with outdated currency that will never again be utilized. vampire!kokonoi, who sits for hours and stares at the photo of the young woman that he’s preserved in mint condition for countless years, wondering why he can’t remember who she is

half-blood!mikey, who wonders why his legs are so much stronger than the rest of his body, why he’s always been so much faster than his peers, and why they’re always chock-full of energy. half-blood!mikey, who’s blissfully unaware that the blood of his ancestors is not as it seems. half-blood!mikey, who has zero clue that his lineage marks him a descendant of the minotaur.

farmer!chifuyu, who’s too shy to approach the seamstress’s daughter, so he resigns himself to only admiring her from afar until she makes a move herself. farmer!chifuyu, who’s beyond embarrassed when he accidentally bumps into her, the dirt and grime on his clothing soiling her pristine outfit. farmer!chifuyu, who tries to brush it off, only to panic when the dust on his hands stains the fabric. farmer!chifuyu, who shows up at your mother’s shop the next day to apologize and is nearly chased out due to his kind “not belonging there,” only for you to object and invite him in, claiming that he’s your friend.

jack the ripper!sanzu, who leans up against a dirty brick building with his head low, tongue clicking in rhythm with the slim hands on his golden pocket watch as he decides on his next victim. jack the ripper!sanzu, who dons a simple, shapeless white mask that contrasts sharply with the elaborate feather woven into his top hat. jack the ripper!sanzu, whom others eye skeptically when he skillfully, easily slices his steak into cross-sections with nothing more than a butter knife. jack the ripper!sanzu, who smiles so charmingly at women, basking in their ignorance as he lures them into a sense of false security with a few sweet words. jack the ripper!sanzu, who seals all of his letters documenting his crimes with a lipstick-stained kiss and giggles manically when it smears onto his cheek. jack the ripper!sanzu, who is taken aback when one of his targets whirls on him with anger in their eyes and a knife gripped in their hands, fully prepared to give him a dose of his own medicine.

achilles!izana and patroclus!kakucho. that’s all i have to say. y’all know what’s up👀

soothsayer!takemichi, who’s looked down upon by his fellow prophets because of his frenetic efforts to change the future. while the rest lounge beneath the shade of trees, sweet-smelling smoke curling from their ornate pipes and hazy eyes trailing after people who they know are supposed to die tomorrow, takemichi is doing his best to track them down to warn them of their fate. “he’s just a boy,” the others chuckle, “he won’t make a difference.”

victorian era painter!s/o, who finds seishu inui snoozing beneath a tree and resolves to capture his beauty on a canvas. seishu, who’s well-aware of what you’re doing but decides to let you have your fun. painter s/o, who’s mortified when seishu happens to “wake up” as soon as they sigh with satisfaction and requests to see the picture.

barista!izana, who mixes drugs into his drinks for certain customers while they discreetly slide a handsome wad of cash across the counter

archer!chifuyu, who accidentally spears his superior through the leg while struggling with his bow. archer!chifuyu, who meets kazutora in the dungeons and befriends him during the one night he spends there. archer!chifuyu, who is confused and hesitant when he is abruptly assigned to join the ranks of the prince’s bodyguards. archer!chifuyu, who is white with shock when he sees kazutora stroll into the room, a golden crown balanced atop his head and a wide smile blooming upon his lips when he spots his new friend.

ROBIN HOOD!CHIFUYU

potion-maker!souya, whose face always softens whenever you stop by his shop during your daily mail delivery route. potion-maker!souya, who’s ashamed of himself for having considered exploiting your trust in him and slipping a love potion into your drink. potion-maker!souya, who always offers to make you something befitting the occasion whenever you’re running low on energy, not feeling well, or are nervous about something. potion-maker!souya, who’s too shy to confess his feelings for you.

town crier!nahoya, who sometimes slips a swear word or two into his announcements and prefers to storm the town on horseback, disregarding his elaborate attire. town crier!nahoya, who has definitely snatched you off the street during his routes, leaving you to cling to his sweat-dampened clothes and shout at him for being such an imbecile.

shapeshifter!nahoya, who diligently keeps his eyes closed because he can change everything about his appearance, except for his distinctive eye color.