#I skipped class for the first time because of this woman

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 98

What’s better than this, girls havin fun by Oxidize

That’s right our final piece in the fanfic marathon is once again from Oxidize! A fact that surprised the fuck out of me when I found it out, given the drastic difference in tone between this and Burning Lungs.

It’s also a Chatfic! Which like, how the fuck do I draw that?? I’ll tell ya! I didn’t! What I actually did was I made art inspired by the fic rather than actually based off of it. Does that sentence make sense? No fucking idea! 

But you all know what this is. It is THE fic, the one that started everything off. Until I found this story my connection was Junkan was thinking it was a no good, toxic as hell ship, but also something that could be pretty funny if you played it as “Junko derails her entire plan because she thinks Mikan is hot.” And when I say prior to this fic I’m talking like, 2017-2018. Since that joke was based on a convo that was had in a server I’m no longer apart of and have no plans of returning too, which I left in 2019. 2019 was a real blank year for me and Junkan from what I remember. 

Anyway, there is just a little build up to this fic, but it isn’t Junkan related so I’ll try to keep it short.

So once upon a time I had just gotten into Danganronpa, conveniently I also discovered AO3, a treasure trove of stories about girls kissing. This was at first used for me to read as much Tokomaru as possible, something which would totally have no massively scaled effects on me as a person such as say, my egg cracking and me realizing I’d be happier as a woman. But we all run out of fics eventually, and it didn’t take many insomnia fueled binge reads of the Tokomaru tag for me to run out of stories. So what did I do? Get addicted to Chat Fics!! What the fuck else would I do, right? I just looked up Danganronpa and Chatfic and went to town, I initially avoided them on my Tokomaru binge because when it comes to ships, I’m pretty much always going to prioritize a fic where they’re the focus rather than a fic where they have like, 5 paragraphs of screentime. I would see a Fic, check the tags to see if it had Tokomaru, and if it didn’t, I moved on. And funny enough given current events, if it had a ship like Junkan, I also skipped forward. Oh how the fucking times change. 

I got addicted to these for like, a month or two I think. I would find one, start reading, and couldn’t fucking stop reading until it was finished. I just loved seeing the stupid antics the different classes would get up to, moreso when they interacted with eachother. I vividly remember laughing my ass off at one storyline where a few of the characters get lost in either an ikea or a costco? Hard to remember but god it was funny. These fics could change tone rapidly, had their own series of tropes and plotlines that’d recur throughout different ones, one fic got really fucking dark out of nowhere and it was jarring as hell, they were amazing. I kinda miss the days when I read them in such excess, I always kind of wanted to make one but also god no I could never.

If there was one perk to these Chatfics, aside from more Tokomaru, it was that it definitely broadened my horizons for what ships I was interested. Prior to this I liked Tenmiko and Tokomaru, that was about it. But through these chatfics I got into stuff like Irumatsu, Celesgiri (Fell off of that though), and most importantly and relevantly, Ikuzono.

So I of course, would eventually go on a quest throughout the Mukuro x Sayaka tag on AO3, sometime during early 2020. And unfortunately that was a significantly rarer pair to find fics for, especially for me at the time who was a lot pickier and only looked for Fluff on most days. 

So of course, I see this fic, and I almost skipped forward when seeing the Junkan Tag. But then I read the rest of the tags, emphasizing that it wasn’t gonna be abusive. So I thought “Fuck it” and went for it.

And thus the second domino fell.

Ironically while reading it I wasn’t focusing on the Ikuzono parts, helped partially by the fact that the relationship wasn’t established yet. But the Junkan? It wasn’t the deepest thing I had ever read at that point. It was like most Chatfics, silly, goofy, probably a little out of character, the usual stuff. But this felt different, it was something I had no experience with, and why would I? Up till now I was under the impression that Junkan was one of the most bottom of the barrel ships available in Danganronpa. Y’know cause I was like, only 2 years past my teens so my brain was still made of soup. 

But this was god damn adorable. Mikan was sweet and adorable, Junko was silly and showed nothing but support and love for Mikan. She calls her a Cinnamon Apple! And the fact that I’ve never stolen that nickname is a fucking crime!

There isn’t really a lot to talk about in terms of what actually happens. Junko does cute stuff with Mikan, Junko dropkicks Hiyoko in the head because she’s bullying Mikan, and Junko gets in detention, resulting in antics. It is just a really cute, pleasant fic that makes me really happy to read.

As you can tell that makes doing art based on this, as chatfics don’t lend themselves super easily to visuals. The best I could do is the aforementioned Junko dropkicking Hiyoko while Mikan watches, but it’s been a few years and I don’t have hatred in my soul for Hiyoko anymore.

So I opted to make something inspired by the vibe of the fic instead! And also add in some 2000s energy! Because I have an obsession with the 2000s aesthetic, and it has as much of a violent grip on me as Junkan. 

To capture that 2000s energy I tried to make this look like an ancient, shitty photo taken off of a flip phone. Cause I love flip phones, and hate Smart Phones. Which is why there’s a third version of this art that was purely an excuse for me to draw a Flip Phone. I don’t care if a chatroom like this realistically wouldn’t exist on them at this point in time, I hate Smartphones and I will be petty about it. 

Adding to the attempt at making the photo feel aged as shit I also tried to recreate the red eye that could be sometimes found in old photos from this era. As for the designs, ya’ll probably noticed by now that I drew Mikan similar to how I did for the Burning Lungs art. That’s because ever since I found out this fic was made by the same author, I’ve just kind of headcanonned that this fic is takes place sometime after where Burning Lungs would have ended, which I assume would have involved the two getting together. 

Now, the keen eyed reader will probably realize that wouldn’t make sense because Mukuro and Sayaka were already together in Burning Lungs. Whereas in this fic they aren’t together at all. And you’re right, that is in fact a big flaw with me considering these to take place in the same timeline.

But also. Look at the past 97 fuckin days. And all the other shit I drew while these were posted. It is safe to assume that when it comes to details that conflict with something I’m really into, I am just a little willing to ignore those details.

So Mikan gets her cute little bandaids, her itchy sweater which I imagine Junko would really enjoy cuddling into by this point, and a small detail that was only noted for a moment during Burning Lungs, but a chipped tooth as well. It was really nice gettin’ to draw this version of the characters again! Even if I still lack a lot to talk about with this piece, I simply hope ya’ll enjoy it!

And with that I think I’ve told all there is to tell in terms of how I got into this ship. Only took me 98 fucking days to explain it all properly, and backwards no less! Almost like this wasn’t thought out super far in advance or something! I feel like I should have more to say here but really, I kinda just, don’t? Hope ya’ll have enjoyed the Fanfic Marathon! As I’ve said before I really wanna show more love to the writing community for Junkan in the future, both for currently available fics, and the fics that have yet to be written! 

For now though, there are only 2 days left. And I have hopefully saved the best for laugh in terms of my own personal contributions. Ya’ll ready for another comic? 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[aromantic-goldfishdeactivated202]

This is slightly unrelated to the teeth thing but related to the king cake thing. It’s a tradition that whoever gets the slice of cake with the plastic baby in it has to buy the next king cake for the next event until Mardi Gras Season (yes, it is a season) is over. As you can imagine, us middle schools absolutely took advantage of this tradition. One student would bring in a cake near the start of the season. The teacher would pause class, we’d all eat cake, someone would get the baby, we’d all be sad we weren’t the one to get the baby, continue class after a thirty minute break. Two days later the new person would bring in cake. Repeat for weeks until a) the teacher said no more cakes or b) mardi gras break starts and we get a week off school, so the cycle would be broken. good times

Shoutout to Louisiana for having the #1 worst baseball team name of all time.

[doberbutts]

I also think that when I see people demanding a *unique* oppression, that they are asking for something impossible and also are very much misunderstanding intersectionality in the first place.

I don't believe any oppression is truly unique. I do think there are faces of oppression that change with the demographic, but more likely than not you as Oppressed Group X have way more in common with Oppressed Group Y than you might think.

But also, Crenshaw's original paper on intersectionality discussed a specific context: black women being skipped over for hire where black men and white women were both getting hired, making that specific context unique to the intersection of black womanhood.

People get skipped over for jobs they are more than qualified for all the time. Even within the paper itself, there is discussion about this happening to black men and white women at other companies, just that this specific company was excluding specifically black women from its pool of candidates due to their specific bias against black women.

Experiencing workplace discrimination and hiring discrimination is not at all unique to black women. The *context* was. It was not "just racism" because black men were being hired, and it was not "just misogyny" because white women were getting hired. It was the intersection of both that resulted in black women being excluded.

When a trans man states that he is being removed from, say, a reproductive rights conversation and it's happening specifically because he is a trans man, what's meant shouldn't be that no one else struggles with reproductive rights. It means that it's not happening to the cis women who are actively leading the conversation, nor is it happening to the cis men who are pitching in. It is, however, happening to anyone with a uterus who is deemed as too "gender devient" to count: trans men, trans women, intersex people, and nonbinary people. Albeit, for different reasons, and the face of which changes depending on the demographic of the person receiving it.

But the conversation around reproductive rights is also one that must include disability, must include race, must include sexuality, must include class, must include age, because these things also have a direct effect on discrimination within the medical field and whether someone truly has access to the autonomy needed to make reproductive choices of their own without others choosing for them.

Similar to how we can understand the context provided in Crenshaw's coining of intersectionality to examine how black women specifically were experiencing something that neither black men nor white women were victim to within that specific example, so too must we understand that these are contextual and circumstantial conversations that will not always be truly unique.

After all, black men and white women do both get rejected for jobs on account of race and gender. Cis women and other marginalized genders frequently must battle for their right to make their own reproductive choices.

But when someone says "this happened to me due to the combination of my race and my gender", we must understand that likely the combination, the intersection, created a unique scenario that cannot be understood by only examining a single piece of that person's identity. So, too, must we understand the same when someone says "this happened due to the combination of my transness and my gender".

So when I see a challenge to name something unique from someone also flinging around the "learn intersectionality" phrase at those who are trying to describe the things that happened to them that hurt them, all I can think is that clearly that person does not understand interaectionality. Nor have they ever actually read the words of the woman who coined it. She's still alive. Her TED talks are on YouTube. Many of her essays are online for free.

Finally, I must remind these people that Crenshaw is not the woman who coined misogynoir, and while both Crenshaw's and Bailey's theories do work in conversation with each other, being discussed by different people does mean there is not a 1-to-1 basis to compare them to. There will be disagreements and inconsistencies between the two because they are two different people.

[liahaslosthermind]

𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

Summary: Azriel sits by himself, watching as she is surrounded by dancing children. Unbecoming of an Illyrian warrior, he just can’t gain the courage to speak to her. But when an intoxicated male walks up to her, looking for trouble, he might just have no choice but to make an introduction.  A/N: This is a fic I wrote and posted about 3 years ago now. I decided that some of my older pieces (though I'm still proud of 15/16 year old me for writing) need a facelift, so here is part of that process. I did the same with Betrayal and have been so much happier writing for it, so I hope you enjoy this one too! The original request (from September of 2022!) is down below, but I didn’t really stick to the prompt much. Request: Well...how about something where Azriel sees the fae reader dancing in Velaris (like a Tangled sort of dance) and she catches his eye. Later on he sees her while he is taking Feyre around town. The fae woman is with a bunch of younglings because she is a teacher. She smiles at him and feyre then and his shadows just shoot out towards her but not to hurt, just to play with her. He is shocked when she is friendly with the shadows and he finds out that when they aren't with him, they play with her. Just something really cute about azriel falling for her as he moves on from mor.

It was unfair. It was absolutely unfair.

The infamous Spy Master of the Night Court, the formidable Shadowsinger, was currently pouting at his family’s now empty table at a Starfall Ball the High Lord and Lady were hosting. Maybe pouting wasn’t the right word, if anyone looked at him they would see no emotion on his face. His family might say he was brooding, but it was a little more pathetic than that. The last standing bachelor Bat Boy watched while the rest of his family, either with a date or already mated, danced with their partners. To be fair, the Ilyrian could easily find someone to dance with. While seemingly unapproachable unless one had a death wish, Azriel was still the most sought after man wherever he went, even before his friends had found their mates. But there was only one who he wanted to dance with, and she was currently partnered with about 8 small children.  

It all had started one day at the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Needing supplies for Starfall decorations, Feyre had asked Azriel to join as another pair of arms to carry bags. She hadn’t really needed his help, but the High Lord and Lady had gotten into an argument about which flowers would look best as centerpieces. So, naturally, she thought asking the Shadowsinger to accompany her instead of her mate would piss Rhysand off. While Azriel hadn’t wanted to join in on the argument, he couldn’t deny a request to make his brother mad. 

Azriel had been sitting outside of the cafe Feyre was currently trying to place a rather large order at when he first saw her. In a crowd of giggling Velaris children, she sat in a chair and animatedly read a story. Usually, the sight would upset the Spy Master, at least a little. Even after 500 years, Azriel never stopped feeling jealous when seeing children happily existing in their bubble of love and comfort. He always wondered what it would have been like for him, had his childhood been one with his mother and away from his father’s abuse. Away from that dark cell. 

This time though, he found himself too enamored with the fae woman reading aloud to think about what was stolen from him. Her excitement, easily matching the children’s, and her smile and flushed cheeks made his heart skip. 

From then on, Azriel often found an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes her classes remained inside, in which he would leave a few shadows to monitor, for safety reasons, of course. But when she took her class of preschool aged children elsewhere, or when she ran after school programs for various other ages, Azriel would find himself nearby. Although, it sounded bad when you put it like that. He wasn’t stalking her, he just… alright maybe he was a little. Maybe he was head over heels, maybe he was healing this inner child, it didn’t matter, because he would never do anything about it. 

Back at the table, Azriel had been too caught up in the patheticness of his situation to notice a drunkard had come up to her. A familiar tug on his shadows and suddenly he watched as the man started to get handsy as the female tried to push him off. If that hadn’t been disgusting enough, the man also pushed a child that had tried to help her. Blood boiling, Azriel had only made it a few steps in to try and grab the pig when he was stopped in his tracks, watching as she landed a swift and powerful elbow to the male’s face, sending the creep stumbling back. 

Huh. 

He wouldn’t have guessed Velaris’ beloved preschool teacher would be able to take down a very large, drunken, adult male with such ease, but here she was. 

Seeing as the situation was handled on her part, Azriel started to walk over to the man when his shadows started to tug at him again. 

Deal with him later, Master. We will keep an eye on him, they sang. 

Unsure of what they could have wanted Az to do in the moment other than deal with the asshole, he began to half heartedly fight their tugging. That was till he realized where they were trying to lead him, straight to the teacher. Immediately, Azriel stopped moving, desperately protesting the shadow's intervention. 

She had immediately sent the kids back to their parents after her attacker had disappeared to who-cares-where. It had been a long and exciting night for her, from coming with friends to doing some overtime babysitting when she saw her students’ parents in need of a quick break to enjoy the holiday. She hated that the male had spoiled her mood, but she was determined to not let it spoil her night. Walking off the dance floor, she made plans to go home and settle down with a glass of wine and a book when something caught her foot, sending her straight into the arms of the Night Court’s very own Shadowsinger. 

Azriel cursed his shadows as he realised far too late that if he wasn’t willing to go to the female, they were going to bring her to him. Purposefully tripping the poor girl just trying to leave the dancefloor, he had been lucky, or unlucky, enough to have caught her before she fell. Where had these reflexes been the rest of the night?

It took her a few moments to right herself before she looked up at her knight in shining armour. Finally registering who it had been, the gratitude on her tongue died and was replaced by apologies. 

The change in attitude gave Azriel whiplash. How she could go from elbowing a man in the face with little remorse to becoming completely flustered after accidentally tripping into his arms was beyond Az’s comprehension at the moment. He was far too stuck on the fact that she was talking to him, nevermind that the only reason she was doing so was because his traitorous shadows had tripped her. He imagined his cheeks were just as red as her’s at the moment.

Cauldron help him.

She was blushing.

Because of him. 

And he was blushing. 

Because of her. 

For the first time in a very long while, Azriel felt weak in the knees because of his feelings. Last time he had felt even somewhat close to such an emotion was with Mor, but that feeling had faded so long ago he forgot how intoxicating and horrifying it could be. 

As she searched his face for any anger, all she saw was confusion, and that he seemed to be as flustered as she was. 

“Um, hello?” she asked. After multiple apologies, she had asked if he was alright, to which no answer was given. She watched as it seemed to take a few moments for him to register her words. 

“How did you do that?” He was all he replied. 

“Trip into you? Well I kind of just walked over here and it happ-”

“No, take down that man. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Oh! well, just- you know, picked up any lessons I could get. Thought it would be better to know how to since I spend so much time teaching children.” 

Azriel remained silent for a beat. Just kept staring as the song began to change into a slower one. Seeing as her usual company of children had dispersed, giggling while watching couples dance, he took the moment to finally ask the question weighing on his mind all night.

“Would you like to dance with me?” 

He watched as she laughed, presumably catching the fear and anticipation in the Spy Master’s voice. Fortunitally, before he could get too into his head about the action, she stuck her hand out for him to grab. As he led her back to the floor, as they started to sway, it felt… different. 

Like their bodies fit perfectly against one another, as if the two had done this many times before, as if they both belonged there, in each others’ arms. 

Neither wanted to ever leave.

A/N part 2: The original story is about 700 words while this is double that, but if you are curious, I've linked the original post. It is... rough

[jayybugg]

locker room activities

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco hates you.....or so you thought.

Warning: Language, Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Draco (?), Smut (18+), No Specific House Mentioned, Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 2.6K

Note: Hi, here I am back again with another fic. It's not song-based this time, just my feral thoughts taking over for Draco. As always, thank you @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and @cafekitsune for the banner! Enjoy!

Draco Malfoy hated you. 

You weren’t sure why, but you also didn't care enough to find out. In fact, you found amusement in seeing the blonde make a fool out of himself to prove his superiority. The glares he shot your way only made you giggle to yourself as you just simply ignored them majority of the time. But seeing him get riled up even more by your unbothered state always made your day.

"Another day of being an idiot, Malfoy?" you smiled lazily down at him sprawled out on the ground, his failed potion covering him.

"This is your fault! You charmed my potion to explode!" Draco shot to his two feet, glaring at you. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused at what he was even talking about. "Charmed your potion? I just got here.” you paused for dramatics. “After it exploded." You rolled your eyes at the stupidity of his accusation

"All you do is get under my skin and annoy me, Y/L/N." Draco snapped at you.

"I don't even do anything to you!" You felt your anger boil. This boy practically borderlines harasses you every day, but somehow, he was the victim? Makes sense coming from Draco.

"You do a lot of things to me!" Draco yelled at you. The chuckles from his table of friends was enough to turn him red and send him storming out of the classroom.

"Bloody hell is his problem?" You muttered to yourself, sitting down at the desk to start your potion.

You didn't see Draco for the rest of the day, figured that he probably skipped class and called his father to complain or try to get you kicked out of school. You soaked up the peace as much as you could.

"Madam Pince? Do you know where this book may be? I need it for my ancient runes class." You handed the woman a piece of paper with the title scribbled across it.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy checked it out." She returned the paper to you. You groaned softly. Of course, that imbecile had the book that you needed. "Granted, it's overdue, so he needs to return it. Why don't you go get it from him?" Madam Pince asked, looking over her glasses. 

You knew this was her way of getting you to do her job. It was a known fact to everyone that Madam Prince hated to deal with Draco and the rest of his family. 

You sighed, grabbing your stuff to go track down the blonde. You really needed that damn book. "Okay, I got it."

Luna was the first to see you, her smile staying wide. "Hey, Y/N!" she waved at you. Pansy turned at your approach and smiled at you. "Hey, what brings you here?"

"I was looking for you, actually." You leaned against the wall next to the girls. "I hate to interrupt the date, but I need your help, Parkinson."

"With what?" she raised her eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.

"Got any idea where Malfoy is?"

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise. "Why are you looking for Draco?"

"Don't get any ideas, Pans. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince told me to get it from him because it's overdue." You poked the girl's forehead, making Luna laugh and Pansy rolled her eyes. 

"I was just surprised, that's all." Pansy defended herself, "He should be at quidditch practice, but by the time you get to the field, it'll probably be over and you'll have to wait till he comes out of  the locker room." 

"Okay, thanks! Bye, lovebirds." You waved the two girls goodbye, making your way over to the field. 

Just like Pansy had said, by the time you got down to the field the practice was over. You stood by the entrance, hoping to catch Draco when he left and prayed that he had the book on him by any chance. 

"Waiting for a hot date, y/n?" Mattheo asked, walking out with Theo as they exited the locker room first, surprised to see you waiting there. 

"I wish." You rolled your eyes. "Waiting for Malfoy. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince has me doing her dirty work.” 

"Ahhhh." Mattheo and Theo said, simultaneously grinning at you. 

"What?" you raised an eyebrow at them. 

"Oh nothing. This should be the highlight of his day." Theo smiled, patting your head. The two walked off, leaving you confused. 

You continued to wait for Malfoy, watching the rest of the Slytherin team clear out of the locker room. After about another 20 minutes of waiting, you grew tired. 

"What the fuck is he in there doing? His everything shower?" you muttered. You looked around at the empty hallway before sighing and pushing open the locker room door. 

The locker area was completely empty, making you intensely bitter that Draco was probably in the shower. You walked up to his ajar locker to see all the quidditch equipment and no sign of your book. 

"Of course, the asshole doesn't have it on him." You rolled your eyes. You looked around for any sign of him, but you didn't see him. 

You walked closer to the showers, hearing water running. "Malfoy??" you called out, receiving a dead answer. 

He had to be in here. He was the only one who didn't leave the locker room. You moved closer to the entrance of the shower seeing Draco lean against the wall of the shower with water dripping down him. 

You eyed his physique slowly. Sure, the boy was annoying but Merlin, he was fine. 

You couldn't pay too much attention to his physique because your eyes and mind finally registered what he was doing and saying. 

"Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck." Draco cussed, throwing his head back as he jerked himself off. Your eyes widened as you heard your name spill out his mouth. Was Draco getting himself off to the thought of you? 

You cleared your throat loudly. Draco's eyes shot open to see you standing at the entrance and taking in his naked form. 

"Shit! Y/N, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Draco scrambled to turn the shower off and grab his towel. 

"Well, I've been looking for you for probably the past hour or so." You said, your eyes staying trained on him. 

"Looking for me? Why?" Draco asked. He glanced around the showers and out to the locker room, "Is nobody in here?" 

"No, they all left 20 minutes ago. Getting ready for dinner, I assume." You walked closer to Draco, who was unconsciously backing away from you.

You had never seen Draco look scared, almost as if he wasn't sure what to do. 

He looked like prey and you were the predator. 

"W-why were you looking for me?" Draco asked again, as you continued to close the distance between you both. 

You ignored his question, using this advantage to tease him. "How many times have you gotten off to the thought of me?"

Draco gripped his towel tighter, "Don't be foolish, Y/N. I don't get off to you. Never have and never will." 

"I just saw you, Malfoy." You rolled your eyes, looking down at his dick, "And judging by how hard you are, I can guess that maybe this isn't the first time."

"Shit, you can see it through the towel?!" Draco clutched the towel closer to him to cover up the print, "Y/L/N, I'm begging you to just go and never speak about this again." 

"Begging? That's new for you." A devilish smirk took over your features as you took a step closer to him. Draco felt his heart start to pound in his chest. You looked ready to devour him. 

"Is this why you said I do a lot of things to you?" You dragged your finger down his bicep, pushing him against the wall. 

A part of Draco was embarrassed that he got caught like this but the other part of Draco was getting so turned on that if he was given the chance to have his way, then he was going to take it. 

"All this time, you've been so aggravated with me," Your hand fondled with the fabric of the towel that wrapped around his waist, "And it was all because of your dirty little fantasies." 

"Y/N, please...." Draco's voice was soft and desperate. It was music to your ears.

"Please what?" You leaned in to lick softly at his neck, "Come on, use your words. Where's that big voice of yours from earlier?" 

Draco didn't even know what he wanted to say. He couldn't decide if he wanted you to free him or to just have your way with him. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, Malfoy." You whispered into his ear as you continued to tug at his towel.

"Fuck." He was done. Any shred of self-respect or restraint that he had was gone. Demolished. Non-existent. 

"I'm waiting." you said in a sing-song voice. You were enjoying this. 

"Suck me off. Please." Draco said. 

You grinned, tugging his towel down and going to your knees. You licked your lips as you eyed his dick that was harder than you thought it was. 

You coated your hand in spit, pumping him before you licked the length of him slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip, listening to Draco groaned deeply, his hands finding their way into your hair. 

"Stop teasing." Draco muttered, looking down at you. 

"But it's fun." You batted your eyes up at him. 

That look alone almost made him cum. Draco gave you a grunt in response. You smiled, taking him in your mouth, and quickly got to work. 

The lewd and slobbery sounds you were making with Draco's cock filling your mouth mixed with his moans and grunts caused your pussy to drench your panties. You reached around to the front of your school skirt and played with yourself as you continued to suck him off. 

"Fuck, this is better than any dream. Your mouth is amazing. I just want to fuck your face," Draco said, looking down into your eyes that were already on him, "Can I?” 

You nodded, pulling away to catch your breath as Draco gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his dick further down your throat. Draco wasted no time using your mouth to his pleasure, taking joy in the little gagging that you were doing. The sounds of your gags turning him on even more than he already was. 

"Do you like that? Being treated like my fuck toy?" Draco groaned out, watching your eyes gleam with unknown emotion. You hummed in agreement, keeping your eyes on him. 

"Fuck, I'm about to cum," Draco moaned. His dick was hitting the back of your throat, repeatedly and unforgivingly. The closer Draco was getting to his climax, the sloppier his thrusts got. He let out a groan, releasing his cum deep down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, pulling away and wiping the spit that had drooled down your chin to your chest. 

"I've never cummed from head before." Draco admitted, running a hand through his hair. You smiled, feeling your ego boost from his compliment.

"Well, there's a first time for everything." You stood up, gripping his dick that was still hard, "but I don't think it's fair that you get to cum and I don't." 

Draco's eyes gleamed with excitement and lust. He leaned forward to nip at your ear. "Want to know what another one of my fantasies was?" 

You raised an eyebrow at him, curiosity covering your face. Draco smirked as he turned you around to face the wall. 

"It was to fuck you from behind against this wall." 

He didn't waste time lifting your skirt up and sliding your panties to the side. He dragged his tip up and down your folds, making you whimper. 

"Don't be a tease." You groaned. 

"It's fun, remember?" He grinned, feeling his own cocky self return, "But I want to feel you, so I'm going to cut the fun short." 

Draco slid into you, the action creating loud moans from both of you. He started thrusting fast and hard into you. The sound of your skins slapping together and the sounds of your moans filled the room. Any concern you had about someone walking in or hearing you was quickly thrown out the window.

“Fuck." You moaned. 

"You feel so good. So tight and wet. Just for me, huh?" Draco whispered in your ear. 

"Just for you." You whispered back. Draco continued his thrusts, slapping your ass as he went. His name spilling out of your mouth with a string of curse words. 

You clenched around Draco, making him snake his hand around your neck to pull you up against him. "About to cum, baby? Cum on my dick like the good girl you are." 

His words made your orgasm better than you ever thought it would be. 

Draco spun you around and lifted you up, putting your legs over his shoulders and supporting you against the wall as he slid into you once again. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, right there." You moaned as Draco drilled into you, leaving you no choice but to take all of him.

"You take me so well. So wet and so pretty." Draco covered your neck in kisses and marks before crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues explored each other's mouth as Draco continued to thrust into you roughly. It didn't take long for you and Draco to get close to your climax again.

“I’m going to fill you up. Have you walking out of this room full of me, and me only.” Draco grunted in your ear.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered, “Please do it.” 

 Draco groaned, releasing again inside of you. He pulled out of you and dropped you down to the ground softly. You gripped his arm and the wall for balance as your legs were shaking and you couldn't walk properly.

"If someone would've told me this morning that by the end of the day I would've fucked Draco Malfoy, I would've called them insane." You said, regaining your normal breathing patterns.

"I could say the same." Draco chuckled. He quickly wrapped a towel around him, looking down at you. "Your shirt is wet from the shower and the spit. Here, let me get my hoodie for you to wear." 

You blushed as Draco pulled you to the locker area, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over your head. 

"Thank you." You adjusted the hoodie. "So, you never answered my question."

Draco raised an eyebrow at you, pulling on his clothes quickly. "What question?" 

"How long have you been having dreams about me?"

Draco paused, redness creeping up his neck, "I was hoping I would fuck you hard enough to make you forget." 

"Oh, I'll never forget this." 

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbing his bag, "I don't remember when they started or even when I felt an attraction to you. I just know that every night, upon recently, it's always just been you." 

You nodded, gathering your stuff, "Well, hope it was better than you could've ever imagined."

"Oh, it was," Draco said, "You never answered my question either. Why were you in here in the first place?" A smile took over your face as you looked up at Draco with a mischievous expression.

"You checked out the book for the Ancient Runes homework. Madam Pince said it was overdue and since I need it, she sent me to get it from you." 

"I don't have it on me," Draco said. 

You smiled, walking to the door, "Oh, I know. I'll come around your dorm later and get it from you."

You pushed the door open and threw a wink his way. Draco let out a deep sigh as he leaned against his locker. 

You were going to be the death of him.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

 One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy. 

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?” 

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players. 

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose. 

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee. 

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words. 

“ Always at your service”  he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday… 

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you? 

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state. 

“Not today” He replied shortly. 

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence. 

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him. 

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount. 

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…” 

 "Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly. 

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

 "But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts. 

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that” 

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it. 

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared? 

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what” 

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic. 

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?” 

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

 It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

 "Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days —  in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

 "Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you. 

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea. 

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you —  maybe they weren't into that anymore?

 Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars. 

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car. 

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids. 

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her —  you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids. 

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

 You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

[isavulpix]

Jason Todd Headcanons

Teacher!Reader x Jason Todd

Part 2 | Part 3

Hi! So I’m new at writing, but couldn’t sleep last night thinking about this so decided to write it down.

Warnings: My first language isn’t English so there will be errors, I haven’t read a comic beside the webtoon one so Jason may be a bit OOC sorry.

* Okay so y’all meet in Lian school, why? Well one day Roy couldn’t pick up Lian after school so he asked Jason to do him the favor and of course Jason said yes. It was the best chance to prove he was a much more fun uncle than Dick.

* But the plan didn’t go that well, he forgot he can’t ride a motorcycle with a little kid so he had to go get the Wayne SUV, making him late to pick up Lian from school.

• So there you where in your classroom with Lian waiting for Jason to pick her up. She tells you stories about her dad, and Jason while she colors and you grade some papers.

• The first thing he sees when he finally arrives is a adorable frowning Lian question him about his tardiness. How dare he pick her up late?

• While he says his sorry to Lian and tickles her tummy to make her laugh, he remembers about the other adult in the room and turns to you to apologize. As he does, he feels like the air has suddenly stop flowing in his lungs anymore because…WHO IS THIS GORGEOUS WOMAN SMILING AT HIM?

• After the hamster in his brain starts to run again he remembers that you are Lian teacher and quicky get himself together. He can’t be catch being shock about your beauty, but seriously. Why are you so pretty? Back when he was a kid his teachers where old ladies.

• You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize with a small smile on your face and his heart skips a beat. Why are you so nice? You should be angry or annoyed because he made you waste time, but you reassure him that even if he wasn’t late to pick up Lian you where gonna still be here grading papers and checking the classes for the next day.

• And Jason thinks wtf? Working after work hours? Teachers aren’t paid enough, he should make Tim hack into Gotham bank account and get the teacher a raise, but says his goodbyes along Lian who is still pouting a little and Jason sighs…

• Jason had to bribe Lian with ice cream so she will speak more about her pretty teacher…and doesn’t tell Roy about all this.

[3liza]

every new medical resident I meet at the teaching clinic where I have my primary care assignment is so stupid it is unbelievable.

today a nice young woman in her 20s asked me if I was "in therapy for my ADHD" (what?) and then asked me to "take a picture" of the next cold sore I got in one of my nostrils. "i don't think I can take a macro photograph inside my own nose" I said. "well it's just that cold sores don't usually form there" okay, that's, first of all, irrelevant to the fact of me not owning an endoscope, and secondly, 100% not true, it is just normal human pathology knowledge that herpesviruses colonize nerves and erupt anywhere there are nerves, preferring but not limited to mucus membranes. you can get herpes sores on your fingers. it's called herpetic whitlow and every family doctor should already be aware it's a basic differential for any kind of paronychia because it's extremely common for people to transmit cold sore virus (hsv1) from their oral mucosa to their fingers, because all of us are constantly stuffing our stupid fingers in our mouths because were stupid and gross, this is just what humans do. so yes it is inside your nose most of the time too, whether you notice or not, which I suspect most people dont because it just feels like an itchy nostril zit or ingrown nose hair unless you are a true connoisseur of constant pointless suffering like myself

I don't understand why I'm called upon to convince actual medical professionals of either documented symptomology that is decades or hundreds of years in the literature, hold their little hands while begging them to look it up themselves (they won't), and then talked to like i am a moron for reading the papers on PubMed i can't fathom why you were allowed to, apparently, skip over entirely. when I say "herpesviruses are known to erupt in mucosa but can colonize any nerve tissue, particularly in immunocompromised individuals, which I apparently am" you should at most just be nodding brusquely because I am telling you something that you already know. this is like saying to you that urinary tract infections can cause cognitive effects in the elderly. it's like simple family doctor, first suspected diagnosis, take two of these and call me in the morning level doctoring. it should have been covered in your undergraduate classes because it is a medical complication of most humans on earth.

[pucksandpower]

okay but all i can think of is grid kids: where y/n and sebastians’ daughter gets her period while being with the guys and they freak out while she is completely calm😭😭😭

Grid Kids: It’s Just a Little Blood

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids have always been their little sister’s role models and teachers but it turns out that they have some things left to learn themselves

Series Masterlist

“She’s bleeding out!”

Lando’s panicked face fills your screen as the FaceTime call connects.

You immediately sit upright, heart racing. “What? Where? What happened?”

“We found her in the bathroom,” Charles adds, holding up a suspicious-looking red spot on the bathroom rug.

George, on the brink of hyperventilation, rushes in, “We need to call an ambulance! It’s a lot of blood. So much blood.”

Max is basically begging, “Just tell us what to do.”

From the background, you hear your daughter’s exasperated voice, “Guys! It’s just my period! Calm down!”

There’s a collective pause. Mick, with wide eyes, slowly asks, “Period? As in ... the monthly thing?”

Your daughter rolls her eyes but is clearly amused, “Yes. Welcome to female biology.”

You laugh, trying to calm the situation. “Okay, first of all, she’s not bleeding out. It’s totally natural. Didn’t any of you take a basic health class?”

Lance raises an awkward hand, “I might’ve skipped that day ... or week.”

Sebastian is trying not to laugh next to you, “Did any of you ever have a girlfriend? Or a sister?”

Lando sheepishly responds, “It just ... never came up in conversation, I guess?”

Your daughter holds a pad up like it’s a game show prize, “Alright, class is in session. First lesson: how to attach this to underwear.“

The line goes silent for a second before George finally speaks up, “You know, I have a newfound appreciation for what women go through.”

You giggle, “As you should. Time for lesson one of many. Pay attention, boys.”

***

The phone buzzes with an incoming call, Lando picking it up instantly. “Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Can you come pick me up?” Her voice, cracking with frustration as she tries to keep her tears at bay, comes through the phone. “I’m in a lot of pain but the physical education teacher won’t let me sit out despite my cramps being really bad.”

George, overhearing the conversation, frowns. “Seriously? She can’t be that heartless.”

Max grabs the phone, his protective instincts kicking in. “We’re on our way. Just hang tight.”

Within minutes, the grid kids arrive at the school, walking determinedly towards the gym. As they enter, they spot the physical education teacher, a stern woman with a whistle around her neck.

“Can we help you?” She asks, eyeing them suspiciously.

“We’re here to pick up our sister,” Charles says, stepping forward. “We heard she’s not feeling well.”

The teacher scoffs. “She’s been trying to get out of class because of some little cramps. It’s just an excuse for her to be lazy.”

Mick tries to keep his cool, “Cramps can be debilitating. It’s not just an excuse like you claim. It’s a real physical pain.”

Lance jumps in, “You wouldn’t make someone with a sprained ankle run, would you? It’s the same thing. Why make her suffer?”

The teacher is about to argue but Lando interjects before she has a chance, “Look, we get that you have a job to do but she’s genuinely in pain. All we ask is for a little compassion and understanding.”

“And maybe,” George adds, “in the future, a crash course on menstrual health and how not everyone has the same experience might be beneficial.”

The teacher nods, sufficiently cowed. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Thank you,” Max says and the group makes their way to where their sister is curled up in a corner. As she stands up, looking a little pale but relieved to see them, they envelop her in a group hug.

“Feeling okay, kiddo?” George asks with concern, carefully brushing a stray hair from her face.

She offers a weak smile, “Better now that you guys are here.”

Lance winks, “How about we go get some milkshakes? Ice cream cures everything.”

She chuckles, “I could go for that.”

***

The media room is buzzing, cameras being set up and reporters getting ready to fire questions. The grid kids are seated next to each other, patiently listening to their weekly dose of Maxplaining while waiting for the interview to start.

A reporter from a tabloid magazine, aiming for a provocative soundbite, smirks and directs a question at Charles, “Rough race today? Are you on your time of the month or something?”

The room goes silent for a moment, a few gasps and whispers are heard. Charles looks taken aback, his cheeks reddening slightly, but before he can answer, Max steps in, voice firm.

“That’s really inappropriate. Jokes like that are not only disrespectful to the drivers sitting up here but also to female racers and women in general.”

Lando nods, “Our little sister wants to be in Formula 1 one day and she should never have to face comments from people who think that they can demean her because of her gender.”

George throws his hands up, “Come on, it’s 2034 for crying out loud! You should know better than this. We should all do better than this. ”

The reporter attempts to defend his statement, “It was just a joke. No need to get so sensitive.”

Lance counters, “We’re not being sensitive. We just want you to show some basic respect. A natural process shouldn’t be turned into a sexist joke because you have nothing of substance to ask. Women deserve to be treated with dignity.”

The reporter mumbles an apology, clearly caught off guard by the unified response.

Charles finds his voice and glares at the reporter, “Let’s keep the questions related to racing.”

“And,” Mick looks towards a group of FIA officials sitting off to the side, “Someone better make sure to take away his media pass.”

***

After the press conference, back in the drivers’ lounge, your daughter squeezes between the grid kids on the oversized couch and looks up at them with earnest eyes. “Thank you for standing up for girls like me today.”

Max ruffles her hair gently, “We’ve always got your back, kiddo.”

George nods, “We haven’t always been perfect but we’re trying to learn and grow.”

Lando adds, “And we hope, by the time you get here, motorsport will be a much better place for you and all other women aspiring to be drivers.”

Charles bends down to her level, “We want you to race in an environment where you’re only judged by your talent and not anything else.”

“You’ve got the same passion and determination any of us ever had,” Mick chimes in. “Don’t let anyone ever dim that light.”

“We’ll be cheering the loudest when you make it to F1. No one should underestimate you,” Lance adds with a wink.

She beams, wrapping her arms around them in a tight group hug. “Thanks, brothers.”

[rimunagenius]

Off Day

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 2.6k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! angst, creepy!stalker-ish!classmate, harassment, some fluff at the end

ʚ ri speaks: okay so i literally just dropped part one and the masterlist and right after i literally wrote this part! i literally pulled this series out of my ass last night…pardon my french. so i finished the masterlist and first part last night and so far, the feedback im getting is really good so…yay!☺️ anyways, this part is a little dark? but trustttt it will be resolved soon.

Part 2

| Series Masterlist |

You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed, get back under the cool covers, and just lie there until the world ended. Or until Kate got home. Either way, you wanted to be anywhere but class.

Something about today was so off. You woke up and did your routine like any normal day. Kate left earlier than you but came back right before you left. You left her breakfast or lunch, whatever she decided to classify it as on the counter, and said you'd see her later at practice. That was 3 hours ago.

But today you had an exam in your anatomy class. This class was easy but you just did not want to be there because of Nick. Ever since a couple of days ago when you told Kate what went down between him and Gabbie, he's been relentless in getting the details of "your and Kate's relationship." You didn't want to tell him it wasn't Kate because you'd rather have to pretend to date her than anyone in California. Especially the girls you knew.

Something about Nick was off so you weren't going to pick a random girl in your following on Instagram. Knowing him, he'd probably stalk the poor woman. You just wanted to skip this class altogether. You hoped this line in the coffee shop on campus would move faster to possibly find a seat where other people could fill in around you before he could.

"Hey!" You turned your head, pulled one airpod out of your ear, and smiled at the brunette next to you. Her name was Juliana and you had class with her in like ten minutes.

"Oh, my god, hi!" You put the AirPod back in its case, abandoning the tranquility for the rest of whatever conversation was going to ensue.

"Not to be nosy or get in your business, and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, but that guy over there keeps staring at you." She pointed her finger, subtly, in the direction behind her. You got to be fucken kidding…Nick. "He's been saying things to people in anatomy, saying you guys are talking, and how he doesn't like how you're too close to Kate. Or something like that, it's all unclear. But I found it weird and thought you should know." Her face looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes went soft as she looked at your expression change from friendly to somewhat terrified.

"Oh, my god. Thanks for telling me. I don't even know him. He's asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. Who is he telling? Do a lot of people know?" You asked her. Your hands started to get clammy, as you started to move to the pick-up counter, your name being called; your drink ready.

"I honestly have no idea, but if anyone asks just tell them you're in a relationship." Juliana suggested, unsure of how to handle the whole situation.

"Yeah, I thought he'd leave me alone when my friend Gabbie had said I was seeing someone already. He automatically assumed it was my best friend Kate." You really thought this was behind you. This was probably the bad feeling you've been feeling all day.

"Oh, so you're not dating Kate?" Juliana asked, her face lightening up.

"No, but she said she was okay with going along with it to keep him away from me. Why? You like her?" You had no idea she swung that way. She usually talked about boy drama whenever you guys did group work in your class.

"Uh, no. But if she decides to start seeing someone and needs to drop the whole "fake girlfriend" thing, you can definitely ask me. I'm happy to help." She smiled warmly at you. You were very grateful for her willingness to help.

"Oh, okay. Thank you so much!" Her friend then called her over, and you both said goodbye. You had already made it to your class. Juliana keeping you company the whole way. You walked in and took a seat, pulling out your phone. You figured you could text Kate and let her know that if Juliana was willing to help, you'd relieve her of her duties. You also wanted to catch her up on what the hell went down in the coffee shop.

"you will not believe what just happened..."

almost instantly, her response bubble popped up.

"omg, what?"

"a friend in my anatomy class came up to me in better buzz and told me some guy was staring at me"

"what guy? are you okay?"

"and the guy was Nick!"

"oh..."

"apparently he's telling people me and him are talking but doesn't like how me and you are so close"

"wtf. are you serious?"

"did you tell her that me and u were together?"

"ab that...she said she would be down to be my "girlfriend" if I needed it. so I was thinking I would just tell ppl that me n her are together, so that way you're not dragged into this mess lol"

"Oh."

"okay for sure."

"I gtg. I'll see you later at practice!"

"alright, see you later. love you!"

" 'bear <3 loved "alright, see you later. love you!" "

Usually, she said it back. You, Kate, and all the girls got in the habit of saying 'love you' to one another because it was true. You all loved each other so dearly. None of you had shame in how you felt about one another and how close you held each other to your hearts. But you just decided to brush it off, she was probably just super busy. 

You honestly had no idea why your mind told you to read into everything she's been saying and texting you, lately. I was seriously getting unhealthy with how much you worried about what she thought about you. You were lost in thought before someone took a seat next to you. Assuming it was Juliana because she was just outside with her friends, you turned to tell her that if she was down to be your "girlfriend." You were pretty startled to see it wasn't her but Nick instead. 

"So, how have you been?" He asked. Something about him seemingly so off. You didn't like the feeling you got around him at all. You noticed his gaze following you out of the shop with Juliana ten minutes ago. You looked around the room, the spots in the class filling up quickly. You saw Juliana walk in, but before you could get her attention, Nick moved into your line of sight and prevented anyone from coming between you two. 

"Uh, good?" You looked down at your phone trying to find anything to keep you looking as uninterested as possible. 

"That's it? Nothing else to say to me?" He seemed to be growing more irritable with the short responses. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, I didn't want to talk to you anyway." You looked at him, wishing he'd go away. You didn't want to say it out loud and catch the attention of everyone around you. 

"Oh, now that's not nice. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend." He said, a weird smile encroaching on his lips. You did not like this at all. You were genuinely starting to get scared. You pulled up Juliana's number, thankful you asked for it last week so you could send her the notes she missed. 

"911. he's starting to really freak me out." 

You sent the message and immediately Nick asked who you had been texting. "Can you please, for the love of god, leave me alone? I'm seeing someone." The smirk on his face dropped, a cold stare being directed right at you. 

"No, you're not. You're seeing me." 

"No, she's not you creep. She's my girlfriend." Juliana then sat on the opposite side of you, staring Nick down. Nick's face flushed, his eyes looking at a few people who had turned around to see what was going on. She placed a hand on your leg.

It wasn't long after your exam and when the class was dismissed that Nick approached you again. He tried to talk to you, you just want to get straight to the Carver stadium. No students that weren't on the team or staff weren't allowed in. You just needed to get there as quickly as possible. 

"Hey! Stop ignoring me." Nick semi-shouted at you. You had put both airpods in, trying to tune him out. It wasn't until he tried to grab your arm and pull you back from walking away from him that you turned around ready to blow up before your saving grace came up to both of you. 

"Hey, man! Watch the fuck out. I don't know who you think you are but you are not gonna put your hands on my friend like that. Not like that, not now, and not ever." Hannah, with the hand she had placed on his arm to throw it off you, pushed him back a little before putting her arm around your shoulder and walking away from him. "That was fucking weird. You know that guy?" She looked back to see if he was still there, and indeed he was. Watching you both walk in the direction towards the arena. 

"No, actually. He's a fucking creep who asked me out a couple of times and took it horribly. He's been harassing me for a little. He was staring at me while I was getting coffee before my class like two hours ago." You said, calming down significantly since Hannah showed up. But your stomach was still uneasy and you really did not want to go to that class tomorrow or ever until he was gone and far away from Iowa City. 

"Yeah, don't walk around campus alone anymore. I'll come to find you after every—what class is this?" 

"Anatomy." 

"Okay, after every one of your anatomy classes, I'll come to find you and we can go to practice together. Do you have friends that know what classes you have and can walk you?" Now that you think about it, Juliana was in a lot of your classes. She wanted to do nursing so most classes you had in the week, were with her. 

"Yeah, funny story. The girl that's pretending to be my girlfriend to keep that guy away, which he obviously doesn't give a damn about, is in a lot of my classes. And it works out because the ones she's not in, Kate takes me because they're on her way." You smiled at the tall girl, grateful. 

"Okay, good. I don't want you getting stalked and possibly worse because of that guy. You should report him before it gets too bad." Hannah suggested, and rightfully so. 

"Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Hannah."

The girls' practice was going well. Until it wasn't. 

"Hey, you got a minute?" You were organizing gauze and wraps in the med bag behind the bench before you looked up and saw Kate holding her nose. 

"Yes, of course, Kate. Another one?" You looked at the girl as she walked around the bench and you handed her a towel. She broke her nose every year, you and Caitlin swore on it. You grabbed some gauze squares and put them in each nostril, to absorb as much blood as possible before you completely ruined the towel. 

"Don't tilt your head back. It could cause clots." You knew she already knew that with how prone Kate was to bloody noses. But it never hurts to refresh her mind, as it is instinct to stop the bleeding. 

"Yeah, thanks." You and Kate stood there while the bleeding stopped. "Alright, I think I'm good." She said a small smile on her face. You saw some blood on her shirt, grabbing the small bottle of peroxide in the bag, and a small gauze pad, you tried to soak as much of it out so it was easier for her when she did laundry. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. A new notification every second. 

"Jeez, who is blowing up your phone?" Kate asked, as she looked at your screen lighting up and watching the notifications pop up one by one.

"I don't know. Can you check?" You asked as you tried to get the last spot of blood off her clothes. 

"It's Instagram. Someone named Nick? Is it that same Nick guy Hannah said harassed the fuck out of you today?" She set your phone down. Your stomach immediately churning. You were honestly getting the creeps. 

"Oh my god. She told you?" You asked as you looked into Kate's eyes. Both of yours mirroring each other. The same worried look. 

"Yeah, and I'm glad she did. You need to say something. Or I can if you're not comfortable." Kate suggested. Now six more new notifications popped up, all from Nick. "I'll block him for you." She said, picking up your phone but stopping to look at you. Her eyes silently asking if that was okay with you.

"Yeah, please." You sighed as you threw the gauze squares away, putting the peroxide back before watching Kate block Nick. On your main and spam account. You have no idea how he found you; your name isn’t in the usernames. You really should go private and change your message settings. "Alright lemme check your nose though, to make sure it's not broken." There was absolutely no need to do this. You knew it was probably just a simple elbow or ball to the face. You both would've known if it was broken. 

"Alright." She sat on the bench, signature manspread. Good lord. You stood between her legs, putting pressure on different parts of her nose, checking for any indication of pain. It was a little tender but that was obvious, and so was you making an excuse to keep Kate a little longer. I mean, could she blame you? You haven't seen her much in the last couple of days. Late practices you missed for studying for your exam, her leaving earlier than you and by the time you get home she's either asleep or visiting her nephew. You missed your best friend.

You could see her looking at you as you checked. Your eyes meet once or twice, small giggles escaping your lips every time. Her eyes dropping to your lips occasionally, watching your tongue poke out a little as you focused on the task at hand. That made her giggle too. "Okay, bear. You're good." You kissed the top of her head and patted her shoulder before she stood up and ran back to the court. 

"If I roll my ankle, do I get a cute nickname and a kiss too?" Caitlin shouted as she pretended to throw herself on the ground. You laughed at her antics loudly before nodding your head and yelling yes. You laughed harder as she pretended to limp towards you. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna need like ten kisses to make this unbearable pain go away."  She fakes winced as she took a seat in the spot Kate was previously in, resting her "injured" foot on the chairs next to her. 

"Oh for sure, Cait." You laughed.

Suddenly, Sydney, Kylie, Jada, and Gabbie, hobbled over pretending to be injured to get their kisses too. "You need one too, Coach Bluder?" You shouted after you made your way through half the lineup. You made the assistant coaches laugh, including Coach herself. The practice was better after that, but you just couldn't shake the events from today off. 

Maybe another movie night with Kate would fix this. A lot of ice cream must be eaten tonight. Just one night, peaceful, and Nick free.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Crazy Lesbians pt. 1, ft. tripleS Sohyun, Xinyu

tags: creampie, anal, strap-on, threesome—just read the damn thing, please.

length: 7k+

author's note: I know I'm late, so please don't yell at me. Also, I apologize in advance if it's too messy; I was trying to get this out as soon as possible.

edit: took me a few hours to realize that I forgot to credit @dreamcatchers-husband for the idea, so sorry and thanks. <3

-

“Yes, yes, baby! Fuck, yes!”

Xinyu has always been so expressive in bed, taking the submissive role almost all the time to complement Sohyun’s dominant side.

“I-I’m about to cum, baby,” Xinyu announces breathily. “Please keep going—p-please, I’m so close.”

Sohyun grits her teeth as she moves her hips as fast as possible, impatient to make her girlfriend cum. She finally gets what she’s wishing for: Xinyu screams very loudly when orgasm hits her hard. Usually, she’d stay inside and wait for the wave of ecstasy to die down, but today, she immediately pulls out. “T-thank you; I-I’ve been desperate for that,” Xinyu expresses her gratitude. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, sweetie.”

Xinyu demands a cuddle, so Sohyun pulls her in for one. “Are you okay, baby? You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” “I’m fine, sweetie,” Sohyun deflects with a smile on her face, “just had some thoughts but nothing serious.” “You can talk to me about your worries, you know; we’re in this together.” “I know, but trust me, I’m fine.” Xinyu presses her face against Sohyun’s chest. “If you say so,” she lets out a yawn, “thank you for today, baby.”

Once Xinyu goes silent, the thoughts in Sohyun’s head start running rampant. Xinyu is clueless that Sohyun has been longing for something more in bed; something that can please her in different ways, because as much as she hates to admit it, she’s getting tired of being the pleaser and would do anything as long as someone would take care of her, the same way she’s been taking care of Xinyu. Not only that but using a fake penis during sex just doesn’t feel… alive.

“Do I need a man?” Different variations of this question have been clouding her mind recently. The problem with that, however, is that everyone at campus knows her as a lesbian—how could she possibly get close enough to a man for him to get in her pants, especially since she’s in a relationship (with another woman, at that)? She’d like to think about this further, but time isn’t her friend right now; she has to go to sleep very soon, or she’ll miss the first class tomorrow.

-

A gay woman is a man’s best friend.

You’ve known Sohyun since the first day of high school, and the fact that she has come out as gay has made it so much easier for you to hang out with her, because neither of you needs to worry about falling in love with each other, thus enabling you to talk about a bunch of topics about relationships and love affairs freely.

Over yonder, you see Sohyun walking alone while her gaze is aimed at the ground, as per usual—at least, that’s what someone who’s not close to her would think, but you’re not that kind of person; there are always subtle differences in her gestures whenever her mind or body isn’t at peace, and you’ve learned how to pick it up over the years.

“Yo, hello,” you greet Sohyun, who seems to be very exhausted. “You okay?” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” You ask if she wants to talk about it, and she beams for a second before her face tenses again. “Not now, but let’s have lunch together—maybe we can talk then.” You accept her invitation without thinking twice. “Sure, see you later, then.”

Sohyun arrives in the packed classroom shortly after parting ways with you. She pulls out her laptop from the bag and gets ready for class, but no matter how hard she’s trying to get her mind to focus, it keeps popping out different questions and topics to discuss with you, her friend of over 5 years at this point.

“Fuck, can’t I just skip this class?” Her heart races as she contemplates while her eyes scan her surroundings, from where her classmates are to the big door that the professor will enter from. Sohyun isn’t a fan of skipping classes, especially the important ones, but she simply isn’t in the right head space for this. “Ah, fuck it, I’m fucking leaving.” She closes the lid of her laptop again and carries it in her hand out of the classroom, not giving a piss whether someone is talking behind her back—Sohyun is an adult; she can make these decisions for and by herself.

Sohyun rushes towards the student council’s office space where she presumes you are, mixing her fast steps with short bursts of jogs. Once she arrives, she peeks through the tinted glass door to look for you, and when she sees that you’re sitting alone, she enters the room right away, not bothering to knock.

“Changmin-ah,” she calls to you, “c-can we talk?” You almost threw your phone thanks to the shock. “Goodness me, Sohyun-ah—you couldn’t fucking knock?” She sets her belongings at the desk in front of you. “P-please, Changmin-ah,” she begs, “I need your help.” “Okay, okay, sure—my God, what’s so pressing?”

Sohyun grabs an empty chair and sits on it after setting it next to you. “I need help with Xinyu,” she begins. “What about her? You want to surprise her or something?” She shakes her head. “I-I need help with bedroom stuff.” Your eyes blink in confusion. “Bedroom stuff? What are you on about?” Sohyun takes a deep breath before continuing. “Sex has been dull recently, Changmin-ah, and I’m desperate for something more.” “Okay, go on.” You see her biting her lip, visibly hesitant to speak her mind. “Ah, fuck it,” she says, “can we have sex?”

Her question stuns you for a few different reasons; she is gay and has a girlfriend—why would she want to have sex with you, a regular, straight guy?

“Say it again?” “Can we have sex, Changmin-ah? I-I want to remember what it’s like to do it with a man.” “Isn’t that cheating, though?” Sohyun shakes her head. “I-it would be cheating if I had sex with another woman, but you’re a man,” she reasons. You’re not sure if that’s the most logical reason (or the most convincing), but she seems serious about this.

You place a palm on your forehead as you think about it. “Please, Changmin-ah; I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.” You chuckle. “Worth my while? When’s the last time you had sex with a guy, by the way?” “F-five years ago,” she says in a quiet voice, and you swear that she’s about to cry.

You take her hands in yours. “Sohyun-ah, listen to me,” you say, “it’s not that I don’t want to help you, but how would having sex with someone that you’re not into help with your own sex life?” “I don’t know,” she says tearily, “I-I just wanted to see how it’d feel.”

While she’s busy sobbing, you’re busy pondering. “Alright, hear me out,” you break the silence. “Let’s do it; let’s have sex, and then you can tell me what you think about it.” Sohyun looks at you with her weepy eyes. “A-are you sure?” “You seem serious about it, so let’s do this.” She wipes the tears off her cheeks. “W-what’s the catch?” You say to her that the only condition is that no one—including Xinyu—can hear about this, which she agrees to. “Can I ask where Xinyu is first?” Sohyun tells you that Xinyu is at her campus and won’t be home until evening. “Are we doing it at my place, then?” You shake your head. “No, mine; can’t risk Xinyu suddenly arriving and catching us red-handed, can we?”

-

“Come in, make yourself at home,” you guide Sohyun into your apartment. “Wow, nice place, Changmin-ah,” her eyes roam around the interior, taking in the sights of your unit. You invite her to sit on the sofa in front of the TV. “Until we’re done today, Sohyun-ah, I will act as if you were my girlfriend; I will talk to you softly and call you by pet names—would that be okay with you?”

Her heart starts racing. The prospect of getting a soft treatment (from a man, nonetheless) makes her both excited and nervous; she’ll be dropping one side of her coin to make room for the other, one that hasn’t appeared since she started dating Xinyu.

“Can I have an answer, please?” Your question interrupts Sohyun’s train of thoughts. “Y-yes,” she says, “please take care of me.” You put on a kind and loving smile for her. “I love you, sweetheart,” you kick off the girlfriend-boyfriend play. “I-I love you too, babe,” she replies, and she can feel her cheeks getting hot.

You pull Sohyun by her hands until she’s seated on your lap. “I bet you don’t do this ever.” “No, never—if anything, Xinyu usually sits on my lap.” “It’s nice to change every now and then, isn’t it?” Sohyun nods shyly. “Never thought I’d be with a man again, but here I am.” “I’ll make sure it’s worth your while, sweetheart,” you use her words against herself, making Sohyun look away to hide her hot cheeks behind her thick hair. “Oh, please don’t say it like that,” she says. You start massaging her forearm gently. “I’ll take care of you, though—I promise you that.”

Over her head, you can see the clock that’s hanging over your TV, and you’re reminded about something. “Sweetie, have you had breakfast?” Sohyun shakes her head. “Would you like to order something, then?” Sohyun nods timidly. You hand your phone over to her, letting her order whatever she wants. “Just make sure to order for me as well, okay?” She fiddles with your phone a little before handing it back to you. “I ordered some iced latte and toast for us, babe.”

Despite your best efforts to suppress your excitement, your lips still form a smile when Sohyun refers to you by that name. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so excited about it—I mean, you’re someone else’s,” you say. Sohyun gives you a peck on the lips. “Whoever gets in a relationship with you will be so happy,” she comments. “I can tell that you’d be such a good boyfriend.”

Initially, you’re grinning, but the way she’s frowning erases it right off your face. “I’m such a bad girlfriend for Xinyu, aren’t I? I convinced her to get in a relationship with me in this society, but here I am, running away with a guy.” “Is she only into women, or?” Sohyun says that Xinyu plays for both sides, which you think is unfair because she’s undeniably very attractive.

You stay silent, trying to stitch together a reply that’s both sensible and comforting, and it goes a little bit like this: “first of all, I’d like to praise you for being so daring and challenging the norms of society in the name of love,” you start. “As for being a good or bad girlfriend, I don’t think you’re a bad person in your relationship.” Sohyun chuckles. “You didn’t even address the running away with a guy part.” You want to open your mouth, but she manages to get her piece off first. “Thanks, though; I know you tried giving me an assuring answer, so you’re getting an A-minus for your efforts.”

-

Your doorbell rings—food must be here. You say to Sohyun that you’ll be picking up the food, but she doesn’t budge, comfortably sitting still in your lap. “Don’t scream, okay?” “What do—ah!” You lift her by her thighs and carry her to the door. “Wait, wait, I’m heavy; please put me down.” You peck her on the cheek. “Honestly, you’re not heavy at all,” you say.

You grab the bag of food and make your way back to the sofa with Sohyun in your embrace. “Let’s eat, sweetie.” You expect her to pull away from the embrace, but no, she doesn’t budge one more time—she even tightens her arms that are wrapped around your nape. “Let’s stay like this; I want to savor this moment,” she says.

You reach around her body and grab a toast and a latte from the bag. “I’ll feed you, sweetie; open your mouth.” Sohyun takes a bite of the toast that’s in your hand. She then chases it with a sip of latte that’s in your other hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s good,” she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, “thanks, babe.” “Gladly, my love.”

Sohyun is feeling odd; her cheeks are very hot, and her stomach is full of butterflies. She hasn’t allowed any man to make her feel like this in years, and within less than an hour of hanging out with you privately and pretending to be your girlfriend, she’s starting to think that maybe there are kind and loving men out there who deserve consideration.

“You alright, Sohyun-ah?” You ask to make sure her mind is still with you. “That’s not my name, is it?” You’ve known her all this time, but only now do you notice how pretty her eyes are from this close of a distance. Your hand, as if capable of thinking independently, moves towards her face, stroking her soft cheek like she was yours. “Respectfully, sweetie, I think you’re very beautiful.” “You’re kind of cute yourself,” she whispers. You chuckle. “Kind of, hey? Sure, I’ll take it” Sohyun presses her forehead against your lips, “forcing” you to kiss her there. “I don’t know how you’re still single—these girls are missing out,” she says. “Eh, you know, I’ve just been so busy with myself; getting into a relationship doesn’t sound like a good idea at the moment.”

Sohyun places her hands on either side of your face. “What about getting in my pants? Does that sound like a good idea?” You scan her face to gauge her seriousness. “I’ll do it if you’d let me.” Sohyun grins. “Take care of me, please.”

On the way to the bedroom with Sohyun still in your arms, you barrage her face with pecks, mixing it with quick kisses occasionally. Even after you’ve arrived in the bedroom, the two of you still don’t stop. “Please, babe,” Sohyun is the first to crack, “can we start already?”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, thinking that you still have a few things to address first. “Sweetheart, before we begin,” you say, “let’s talk about some stuff.” Sohyun bites her bottom lip (nervously, not sexily). “Let’s begin with the elephant in the fridge: you’re a gay woman, and I’m a man. Aside from that, you’re in a relationship with someone else. Are you sure you want to do this?” You hope that Sohyun was listening carefully to your little monologue (and managed to catch the little joke).

Sohyun stays quiet, which makes you feel like you need to provide a reason as to why you’re bringing up such topic. “Sweetheart, I just don’t want you to regret this later,” you say. She takes a deep breath. “I know, and I still want to do it with you.” “Well, lucky for you, I have some condoms.” She taps your nape with her finger to get your attention. “Actually, I was thinking about not using that,” she says, “n-no one else would be getting between my legs anyway.” You peck her on the lips as a sign of agreement. “As you wish, sweetie.”

You notice that Sohyun’s breathing is speeding up as you’re unbuttoning her shirt. “Are you okay? Do you want to change your mind?” “I-I’m fine; please continue.” You know that she has quite the sizable breasts, but you’ve never seen them this close and bare before. “Y-you like them?” You nod. “Yes, I do, sweetheart.” She then gives you permission to touch them, so you do just that. “My, your girlfriend must love your breasts so much,” you comment. Sohyun wants to say something, but a gasp escapes her lips, interrupting her. “S-she does—s-she always put them in her mouth.”

You reach around to unlatch her bra, but after thinking again, you decide to let it stay on; something about Sohyun in a shirt makes you very aroused, and you’d like to have her stay partially dressed like this. “You’re insanely hot, you know? God, you’re fucking amazing.” Your whispered words make the entirety of her body hot, and Sohyun can’t help but wonder if this is what being with a man is like. “Xinyu would go crazy with this guy,” she thinks.

“B-babe,” she calls to you, “w-would you be down to have a threesome with us one day?” “You and Xinyu?” Sohyun nods. “I-I feel like you’d t-take care of us so fucking well.” You peck her on the chest, right above her cleavage, before answering. “I’ll do it if you both agree to.” She places her cheek right against yours. “If you do well today, I promise I’ll bring Xinyu to you,” she whispers, and you can feel your arousal peaking at the prospect of having sex with two very hot women at once. “I will do my best, sweetheart.”

Sohyun gets off your lap to take off her jeans and panties. “Show me,” she says, “show me what you can do, babe.” You place a hand on her crotch, finding out that she is so wet already. “You’re excited to see me, aren’t you, sweetie?” The way her breathy moan hits your face is very arousing. “We’ll be having so much sex today, so I hope you can keep up,” you say, teasing her. “F-fuck me, baby,” she urges you, “let’s forget about everything else—today is ours.” You never thought you’d hear such words from her, but here you are. “Damn right.”

Sohyun slowly lowers herself onto your cock, promptly gasping and moaning because of the sensation that has been forgotten to her. “Fuck, Xinyu, I’m so sorry, baby.” She still has the head space to think about her girlfriend who’s doing God-knows-what at campus right now. It is when your lips hit hers that her thoughts are interrupted. She lets out small moans every time the kiss is broken while her hips are busy bouncing along your shaft.

“You like this, baby?” You whisper those words for extra arousal factor. “Yes,” she whispers back, “I feel alive, baby.” You’re not sure initially what she’s saying, but you guess that she’s probably has had so much sex with a dildo (which is a dead object, obviously), while you’re very much alive. “I-I don’t think I can last long like this, babe,” she adds.

You want to latch your lips onto her neck that’s right in front of your mouth, so you ask first. “Can I mark you, baby?” “N-no, b-but I’ll mark you,” she replies. You let out a deep exhale when you feel her wet lips on the side of your neck, and in response, you make her bounce faster on your cock. “C’mon, baby; let’s cum together, ‘kay?” Based on the little nibble, you estimate that Sohyun likes that idea.

“Baby, I’m about to cum," you announce after what feels like forever. “Oh, yes, me too,” she locks her gaze with yours, “make me cum, please.” Since she’s asking so nicely, you decide to cooperate by thrusting your cock upwards, thus filling your bedroom with clapping sounds on top of the moans that she’s letting out. Sohyun seems to be enjoying this too, as proven by how her eyes keep rolling towards the back of her head.

The way your cock is twitching in her pussy serves as a warning for you. “Babe, get off,” you say, “I’m about to cum.” Seeing that she’s still fucking herself on your cock makes you think that she didn’t hear it. “Babe, please, I’m about to cum,” you repeat. “J-just give it to me,” Sohyun finally responds. “Fill me, baby.”

Having been shown the green light, you pick up the pace again after slowing down moments ago. Finally, with a grunt, semen comes out of your shaft in abundance, filling her like she asked you to. “That’s so warm,” she comments. “D-did you cum too?” Your voice is rather breathy thanks to the orgasm. “I-I don’t think so,” Sohyun says, and admittedly, you’re disappointed in yourself for failing to make her cum. “I’m sorry, baby.” She laughs out loud. “What for? Because I didn’t cum?” She laughs again when she sees you nodding. “Please, it’s good enough as a start—don’t be too hard on yourself, babe.”

Sohyun lifts herself off your lap, letting some excess semen drip onto the floor. “Oops, sorry, babe.” You chuckle. “I’ll clean it up later.” She holds your chin and moves it upwards for a kiss. “Thank you, but I have something to ask.” “Yeah, ask away.”

Sohyun moves her head oddly close to your face. “Can you fuck Xinyu too?” You’ve talked about this before, but that conversation was clouded by horniness. Now that she’s asking again, however, you’re having second thoughts. “Babe, listen,” she hasn’t dropped the name yet, “Xinyu deserves to be this happy as well, you know.” “I mean, if you really want to, then sure.” Sohyun smiles in satisfaction. “Thanks, babe—I owe you.”

-

As soon as Sohyun enters her apartment, Xinyu comes running towards her with teary eyes. “Babe, you didn’t pick up the phone—where were you?" “Sorry, I was a bit busy, baby,” Sohyun deflects, because in reality, she was at the pharmacy to get some morning after pills. Xinyu, gullible as ever, believes what she just heard and simply comes in for a hug. “I’m glad you made it home.” “I’m glad to be home too, baby.”

Xinyu drags Sohyun to the dining table where she has prepared some fried chicken for dinner. “I got a coupon from my previous purchases, so we’re having fried chicken today,” she says. “Of course, babe,” Sohyun says, “let’s eat then.”

As Sohyun is chewing her bite, her mind goes back to this morning, and she finds herself comparing Xinyu to you. Xinyu is doing her best to take care of her girlfriend, but it’s not quite the same as the way you did it—there’s something about your ways that’s different but indescribable.

“You’re thinking about something again,” Xinyu manages to catch on. After sighing, Sohyun decides to speak plainly. “Babe, are you still interested in guys?” The question makes Xinyu nervous. “I-I don’t know,” she says, “I-I’m not leaving you for a guy, though—cross my heart.”

Sohyun proceeds to ask if Xinyu would be down to have a one-night stand with her and a guy. “A guy? Who?” “Changmin-ie,” Sohyun mentions your name casually. “B-but why do we need him? A-are you bored of me, perhaps?” Sohyun reaches for Xinyu’s hands. “I’m not bored of you, babe—I was just thinking if maybe we can spice things up for ourselves.” Sohyun knows that the only reason she’s thinking about “spicing things up” is because of boredom, and she seriously hope that Xinyu won’t give her too much trouble and interrogate her further.

“Fine, I’ll fuck him—I’ll do it for you,” Xinyu says. Sohyun shakes her head. “You’re not doing this for me, babe; you’re doing this for us. I swear you’ll thank me later.”

-

The bell of your door rings, and when you open it, you see Sohyun and Xinyu. “Can I help you, ladies?” Sohyun pinches your stomach lightly. “You and your words, babe.” Your eyes widen in shock, concerned about how she’s referring to you by that name in front of her girlfriend. “Oh, erm, welcome,” you step aside to let them in.

The two ladies enter your apartment while holding hands. “That’s cute,” you think. “Do you girls want some water—some soda, perhaps?” Sohyun asks if you have diet coke, which you do, coincidentally. “I’ll take that, please.” “What about you Xinyu-yah?” Xinyu says she’d like to also have a can of diet coke, so you grab one more for her.

You hand each girl a can of diet coke. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” “Oh, c’mon, don’t act stupid like that, babe,” Sohyun just won’t stop saying that name, and you can feel your heartbeat getting faster. “So-Sohyun-ah,” you’re getting nervous, “erm, are you sure you can call me that?” Sohyun looks at Xinyu quickly before turning back to you. “Yeah, I can—what, you scared of her?” You scratch your head. “Not scared necessarily, but I am concerned.”

As Sohyun is about to open her mouth, Xinyu speaks first. “I was told that you guys had some fun when I was at campus this Tuesday,” she says. You take a few deep breaths to calm your heart and mind. “Yes,” you admit plainly, “Sohyun-ie asked me if she could have sex with me, so we did.” “Did you like it?” “I did; I did my best, but I didn’t make her cum.” She clicks her tongue in mockery for your failure.

Out of nowhere, Xinyu slams her can of coke on the table and then sits on your lap. “You tried stealing my girlfriend from me and somehow managed to fail miserably—fuck you, you asshole,” she insults. “Xinyu-yah, I—” “Bad!” Sohyun yells out, scolding Xinyu for her bad behavior. “That’s not how you speak to him, Zhou Xinyu; he’s one of the good ones.”

Much to your surprise, Xinyu gets off your lap and kneels on the floor. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what got into me.” She gets visibly even more nervous when Sohyun suddenly stands so close next to her. “What happened to your manners, Miss Zhou, hm?” “I-I’m sorry—please, I’m so sorry.” Xinyu places a hand on your knee, begging to be saved from Sohyun’s anger. You try convincing Sohyun that you’re not offended nor is Xinyu being naughty, but she’s not entirely convinced. “We’re punishing her in the bedroom,” Sohyun says, her tone resolute.

Sohyun drags her girlfriend towards your bedroom while you’re still sitting on the sofa, stunned by the sight that just happened in front of your eyes. “Oi,” Sohyun steals your attention, “did you not hear what I said?” “Yeah, yeah, one second.” You shake your head rapidly to clear your mind before walking to your bedroom to join them.

When you enter, Xinyu is on her knees on the floor while Sohyun is standing in front of her with her arms crossed. “In case you forgot, Xinyu-yah, Changmin-ie over here is my best friend; even though our relationship has been a platonic one, I’ve found myself relying on him for a bunch of things. Not only that, but he’s also been supportive of our same-sex relationship—did you catch all that?” “Y-yes, mommy.” You want to poke a finger into your ears to see if maybe you heard that wrong. “I-I’m sorry, mommy; I-I was wrong to lash out like that.” Nope, you didn’t hear that wrong.

You stand between Sohyun and Xinyu, pushing her backwards to give Xinyu some space to breathe. “Sohyun-ah, calm down, please—I’m okay, you know.” “But she wasn’t behaving well,” she counters. “It’s understandable, don’t you think? We did have sex behind her back." Sohyun lets her arms fall freely and lets out a deep sigh. “This is what I meant when I said I wanted to be taken care of,” she says, “I’m tired of running around taking care of people and being responsible for them.”

When you look behind you, you see that Xinyu is looking at the two of you with a neutral face. Facing forwards again, you slowly put your arms around Sohyun’s body. “It’s okay, I understand; I’m sure it’s been exhausting for you to take on this role,” you say softly right into her ear. “Thanks, babe—it’s been great to have you as a friend.” It’s funny to hear her call you “babe” but say “friend” in the same sentence, but she’s right; Sohyun is still into women possibly until the end—unless she somehow becomes straight again—and your relationship with her is a platonic one.

You pull away from the hug so that you can turn your attention to Xinyu. You take a knee in front of her, getting to her eye level. “Hi, there,” you say, “how much did she tell you about what we did?” “I-I heard that the two of you pretended to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” You put on a smile for her. “That’s right, so can I talk to you like you were my girlfriend too?” Xinyu nods a little. “Great,” you say, “stand up, please, sweetheart.” Once she’s on her feet, you pull her in for a hug, the same way you did with Sohyun. “Sohyun-ie loves you so much, you know that? She goes against the norms so that she can be with you, sweetie.” Xinyu places her forehead on your shoulder. “I know,” her voice is almost too quiet to reach your ear. “I love her so much too, Changmin-ah,” she adds.

As soon as you get out of the way, the two women rush towards each other for a hug, much to your delight. Not only that, but they also start apologizing to each other and exchanging promises to be better as active participants in their relationship. “Love is in the air—let’s go!” You exclaim, getting excited on their behalf.

They break their hug and pull you into a three-way hug. “I’m so happy for you guys,” you say. “I must say, though, you need to stop playing for both sides if you can help it, Xinyu-yah; I’d love to have a girlfriend as well, you know.” The two girls laugh at the same time. “Hey, we can be your girlfriends on our free time,” Sohyun says. It’s now your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

You take a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, we’re not going to punish anyone, are we?” Xinyu looks at Sohyun nervously, but Sohyun is quick to shake her head to clear things up. “We’re going to have sex later, if that’s okay,” she says. “Can we buy some food first?” You pull out your phone from your pocket and throw it to Sohyun, with whom you’re used to throwing and catching phones. “Go order something, I’ll pay.”

Sohyun and Xinyu scroll up and down on your phone to find something to buy, and before long, your phone is back in your hands again. You lie down in bed and are joined by the girls right after; Xinyu spoons Sohyun, and Sohyun hugs you from the side. “We look like sardines, don’t you think—or kittens, perhaps?” Xinyu giggles. “What kitten have you seen is this tall?” “Yeah, where did you get your height from, by the way?” “My parents are average height, but the mailman is tall.” You didn’t expect Xinyu to have this sort of joke in her bag, and you (Sohyun, too) can’t help but burst out laughing. “What the f—what do you mean mailman?”

-

Sohyun immediately starts touching Xinyu after getting back in your bedroom, ignoring your presence in the room. “Girls, it’s only 1—what are you doing?” Sohyun, who’s mounting her girlfriend, turns her head to look at you. “What the hell does it look like?” You take a seat on the stool near your computer desk. “Alright, I hope you don’t mind me watching, then.” “Not at all—we’ll show you how we do things,” she says before returning to the task at hand.

Xinyu, without being told, takes off her T-shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath, and you sincerely hope that she has matching panties on. “Touch me, mommy—touch me while daddy is watching.” Thinking that shit is about to hit the fan, you free your cock from its constraints and start stroking yourself. “You see that—daddy is horny for you, baby,” Sohyun points at you, “would you let daddy touch you?” “C-can daddy touch me like you do, mommy?” You can’t hear what Sohyun just whispered to her but based on the smirk on Sohyun’s face when she glances at you, it must’ve been a naughty one.

“M-mommy, I’m wet for you.” “I can tell, baby,” Sohyun replies, “you want to get fucked, don’t you?” Sohyun jumps off her girlfriend when she sees her nodding and makes her way towards the small backpack on the floor, and at the same time, Xinyu uses the chance to take off her jeans—you manage to catch the lacy panties right before they were discarded. “Which one do you want, baby?” “N-number two, m-mommy.” Sohyun fishes out a strap-on that you estimate is as big as your cock and puts it around her waist. “Watch us, Changmin-ah,” she says to you as she climbs into the bed again.

Xinyu lets out a loud moan when the fake dick enters her pussy. “F-fuck me, mommy—please, please, please.” Sohyun folds her girlfriend in half and starts fucking her fast right out the gate. “Fuck, I can’t take this anymore.” You approach Sohyun from behind and bend forwards until your mouth is right in front of her asshole. “Excuse me, ladies.” You start licking Sohyun’s rear while she’s busy smashing her girlfriend, and judging by how she’s moaning, you know that she’s into this type of thing.

Sohyun finally slows down after a few minutes as exhaustion starts to set in. You, noticing the change of pace, pull your tongue away from her rear. “B-babe,” she turns her head to the side to see you, “y-you’re insane—who taught you that?” “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you peck her on the back of the head, “did you like it?” “Y-yes,” she blushes, “please do that again later.”

Xinyu, feeling left out of the conversation, expresses her desire for attention. “M-mommy, d-daddy,” she calls to the two of you, “w-what happened?” You hug Sohyun from behind, positioning your head next to hers so that you can look at Xinyu. “I ate mommy’s ass, baby,” you say, “she liked that a lot, you know.” Xinyu gasps. “You’re insane, daddy—no wonder mommy came to you for help.” You smile naughtily. “It’s your turn next, okay?”

Sohyun calls a timeout, mentioning her exhaustion as a reason. “Fuck her, babe,” she whispers to you, “better yet, make her cum.” You take her position between Xinyu’s legs after she’s moved out of the way. “Do I have your consent, baby?” Xinyu nods enthusiastically. “Alright, here I go, then.”

If Sohyun was rough earlier, you take a softer approach this time, giving some nice and slow thrusts to Xinyu. “I love you, baby—I love you as much as mommy does.” You see that her eyes are tearing up. “I-I feel complete, daddy; you’re such a perfect fit for me and mommy.” You guess that this is her double-sidedness speaking, but it’s good to hear that she doesn’t hate you or anything. “I love you, baby,” you repeat.

As you’re starting to move again, you feel some odd sensation is an odd spot—Sohyun is returning the favor, eating your ass the same way you did her. “Oh, fuck,” you utter, “fuck, you two are going to make me pass out.” Xinyu places a hand on your cheek. “You’re happy, aren’t you, daddy?” “Very, baby,” you reply.

You keep delivering thrusts to Xinyu, using her moans as fuel to keep up the pace of your movements. Sohyun, on the other hand, has had enough of eating your ass, opting to sit on Xinyu’s face, thus putting extra pressure on the moaning, stuffed girl. “Are you sure she can take this?” “Yeah,” Sohyun answers, “I’ve sat on her face many times.”

So, here is how things are going: you’re fucking Xinyu while also tongue-wrestling with Sohyun, whose pussy is getting eaten by her girlfriend. A part of you wonders what your parents would think if they could see that their son is having this crazy of a threesome.

Sohyun suddenly pulls away from the kiss. “Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she announces. The way she’s moaning louder must mean that Xinyu is stimulating her more like the good girl she is. With a scream, Sohyun lifts herself off Xinyu a little bit and sprays juice right into her waiting mouth. “Oh, fuck, me too.” You pick up the pace to chase your orgasm, and when it hits, you lodge your entire length in Xinyu’s pussy and fill her from the other end.

Both you and Sohyun leave Xinyu at the same time, and you can see how messed up she is: her messy hair is all over the place, her mouth is full of Sohyun’s squirt, and your semen is leaking out of her pussy. “Fuck, we went hard on her,” you comment. Sohyun pets her girlfriend’s head softly. “Good job, baby—good fucking job,” she praises her, “I told you he’d help a lot, didn’t I?” Xinyu swallows the juice in her mouth and nods weakly. “Should we get cleaned up?” “I’ll go first—I’ll get a shower,” Sohyun says.

While Sohyun leaves to get cleaned up, you take care of the exhausted Xinyu. “Are you okay, baby?” Xinyu nods again. “M-mommy and daddy used me.” The way she’s phrasing it makes you wonder if it was too much for her. “I-I’m tired, daddy, b-but I also want more.” “Let’s rest for now, baby; we can think about going again later.”

-

“Oi, oi, oi, look at you, sleeping in each other’s arms like a couple,” Sohyun comments as she walks in the bedroom after showering. “Mommy,” Xinyu reaches out an arm, inviting Sohyun back to the bed. She moves to spoon her, squeezing Xinyu between you and herself. “I’m here, baby—are you okay? Are you tired?” “I want—” A yawn cuts her off. “I want one more, mommy.” Sohyun chuckles. “Aren’t you drained, though?” “N-no, I-I can take it.”

“Yah, wake up,” Sohyun slaps your thigh to wake you up. “Xinyu wants to go again.” “Huh? Yeah, sure.” You rub your eyes to get yourself together. “One second, please.” Sohyun reaches for your cock and starts stroking you to get it hard. “We don’t have a second,” she says.

Like magic (not really), your cock gets rock-hard in no time. “How do you want us, baby?” “I-I want to give mommy and daddy my virginity.” It’s obvious that she’s talking about her ass. “Is that so?” Sohyun looks at you with a naughty smile on her face. “Alright, I’ll take it, baby, and then we can give daddy a sloppy second—how does that sound?” “S-sounds great, mommy.”

Sohyun flips Xinyu onto her stomach. “Pass me that strap-on, daddy.” You throw it to her, and she wears it around her waist like earlier. She then covers it with her spit before lining it up towards Xinyu’s rear entrance. “Watch us, daddy.” You nod as you start stroking your cock mindlessly at the sight of these crazy lesbians.

Xinyu lets out a gasp when the tip of the rubber cock hits her asshole. “Please be gentle, mommy.” Sohyun simply nods, which isn’t very assuring, and moves her hips forwards, negotiating (or perhaps forcing) her way into Xinyu’s rear. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! MOMMY!” Xinyu’s screams are concerningly loud, and you sincerely pray that no one will file a noise complaint against you.

“Fuck, there we go, baby,” Sohyun’s strap-on is in Xinyu’s ass all the way, “you’re completely mine now, aren’t you?” “Y-yes, mommy,” her voice is partially absorbed by the pillow that her face is pressed against. Sohyun pulls Xinyu’s hips backwards until they’re up in the air. “I’ll start fucking you, baby.”

True to her words, Sohyun begins fucking her girlfriend’s virgin ass with reckless abandon, not giving a piss about how she’s screaming from the top of her lungs, straining her vocal cords like never before. “Fuck, this is crazy,” you mindlessly utter while still busy stroking yourself. Sohyun is slapping Xinyu’s ass as she goes too, adding more craziness to this whole thing. “Fuck, if only I could feel how tight you are, baby,” Sohyun comments. “But you’re a virgin here, so you must be very tight.”

Not too long after the first penetration, Xinyu announces with a yell that “her pussy is cumming” (odd phrasing, isn’t it), and true enough, juice begins spraying out of her pussy, splashing all over the bed and even the floor. Sohyun, thinking that her job is done, retreats from the forbidden hole, leaving it gaped and winking. Sohyun mounts her girlfriend’s butt and starts pecking the back of her head endlessly, expressing her gratefulness and adoration. “I love you, baby—I love you so, so, so much.” “I-I love you too, mommy,” Xinyu replies feebly.

You notice that you’re leaking precum from your tip, and because you don’t want to actually bust, you stop stroking your cock. “Do you girls need anything? Water, or towel, maybe?” “Water, lot of it; Xinyu needs it,” Sohyun says. You jog out of the bedroom and grab some bottled water for the ladies. “Here, here—have a sip.” Sohyun drinks half in mere seconds before passing it on to Xinyu, who finishes the rest.

-

Tomorrow is Saturday, and because no one has any classes, Sohyun and Xinyu decide to stay the night at your apartment.

“Good night, girls—I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.”

You crash onto the sofa, only now realizing how drained you are. It doesn’t seem like your day is ending just yet, though, as Sohyun is walking out of the bedroom to join you in the living room, taking her spot on your lap. “Yes, sweetie?” “Thank you, babe,” she says, “you helped a lot today.” You smile amidst the exhaustion. “I don’t want to take too much credit, but you’re welcome; I’m happy for the two of you.”

Sohyun comes in for a hug and quickly lets out a sigh. “I love you, and I love her,” she piles on. “I’m still not falling for a guy, though.” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like you have to.” She gives you a peck on the cheek. “Can’t believe I fucked Xinyu in the ass.” “Oh, believe me, it was a crazy fucking sight to watch—you had me wondering if you would’ve given me a turn.” Sohyun looks at you right in the eyes. “We have all day tomorrow, don’t we?” You nod, partially hopeful about continuing the fun tomorrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Maybe I’ll let you fuck Xinyu in the ass tomorrow, and maybe, I’ll let you fuck me in the ass too.”

“Miss Park, you are one crazy lesbian.”

“You know it, and now you love me for it.”

[redrose10]

hii for the prompt game thing: how about 5, 5, and 55 or 60 with Yoongi! I just love how you write Yoongi, but it's up to you if you want to change the member!

I hope this is what you were looking for! I’m so sorry if it isn’t.

< Beauty and the Frog >

CEO Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, very slightly suggestive, Yoongi is pretty mean in this one

CEO, Unrequited love

#55 “That’s not very nice.”

#60 “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

*******************************************************

You had known Yoongi since you were in elementary school. You had seen him around the building but the first time you really interacted with him was when you were partnered up together in your 8th grade biology class. You refused to dissect a frog and even after the teacher threatened you with an F and a trip to the principal’s office you stood your ground. Yoongi admired that and followed suit earning you both after school detentions. It brought you guys together and you were best friends from that moment on.

Freshman year was intense. Lots of changes and new stressful situations but you had Yoongi by your side so it made everything a little easier.

Tenth grade was better. You had gotten the hang of things and were able to navigate life. You and Yoongi were still best friends and stuck mostly to yourselves. Many rumors went around the school about you two but you always ignored them.

You were in the eleventh grade when you realized your crush on Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him for much of the summer because he went to stay with his grandparents in the countryside. When he walked into the school on the first day your mouth dropped open. He had grown a few inches taller. Most of the baby fat in his face had disappeared leaving him with a chiseled jawline. He had let his hair grow out and he seemed to have bought some new clothes with the money he had earned at his part time job. The first thing he did was walk towards you and wrap you in a hug giving you the first feeling of how much more muscular he had become while working on his grandparents farm. When he said your name his voice was considerably deeper than you remembered. You locked away your secret crush for the whole year not wanting to ruin anything between you two. The thought of loosing him forget was too much to handle.

Senior year of high school was flying by. Yoongi was captain of the basketball team. You took a position as the teams water girl after he begged you too just so guys could get to spend a little more time together. You had decided that after the final game of the season you were going to ask him to Prom. Your nerves were out of control as you waited for Yoongi to come out of the locker room but minutes and minutes went by. Every other member of the team had already left leaving you wondering what was going on. As you exited the school there were mumblings and whispers about two people hooking up in the parking lot. You felt a knot in your stomach as you walked outside only to see exactly what you had feared. Yoongi exiting the backseat of his car with his zipper down and his belt still undone and the head cheerleader following behind while still pulling her skirt back down. When Yoongi came walking over to you asking if you were ready to hit up your usual after game pizza place you declined telling him you weren’t feeling well. He offered to take you home and hang out there but you shook your head accepting a ride from Hoseok instead much to Yoongi’s disappointment. Yoongi went to prom with the cheerleader while you skipped it all together deciding to never let him know about your crush.

College was much of the same only you didn’t feel a soul crushing sense of sadness whenever Yoongi would bring a random woman back to your shared apartment. You had learned to accept it for what it was. The ones he actually dated hurt a little more than the one night stands but you got through it, even having a few romantic adventures of your own.

Graduation came and went and Yoongi started his own record label with some money he and received as an inheritance. You were so incredibly proud of him and excited to see him succeed as the CEO and Owner of his own business.

It took a few years but DTown Records slowly became one of the hottest companies in music while producing nearly every hit on the radio.

When things got too crazy Yoongi offered you a job. He wanted you to become be his Chief Operating Officer. At first you declined saying you didn’t know much about the music industry but Yoongi knew you had a degree in business and he trusted you. So eventually you gave in and became his partner.

It was a lot like the old times. The two of you spent countless hours together all the while your old crush was blossoming more and now to the point you started feeling like you loved him.

Then Yoongi introduced you to Mia, an up and coming artist he had met at some big industry event he had gone too. Immediately you didn’t like her. It wasn’t all jealousy. She just gave you bad vibes. She was a little too quick to use Yoongi’s credit card any time she wanted to purchase something. She was constantly flirting with other men when he wasn’t around. And she definitely did not like you. She had one too many glasses of wine or coffee “accidentally” spilled on you by her way more times than could happen accidentally. She was always conveniently having emergencies any time you and Yoongi tried hanging out. You also heard from Jin, Yoongi’s assistant, that one morning she was giving Yoongi reason after reason to fire you.

You tried to talk to Yoongi but he was having no part of it even going as far as you call you jealous and told you to grow up. A little crack formed in your relationship for a while until he announced his engagement to Mia. He looked so happy and so in love that you put on your best act and pretended to be happy for him even though you were devastated.

The night before the wedding you were laying in bed trying to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself to watch the love of your life marry someone else when there was a knock at your door.

Since it was 3am you were nervous to answer it until you heard Yoongi on the other side. He greeted you with red eyes and sniffles before he broke down in your arms and sobbed.

Through his distress you learned that Mia was in her suite at the hotel so that they wouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. He had snuck over to her with flowers and a song he’d written wanting to be romantic and surprise her. Only he was the one that was surprised when he found her naked riding some wannabe rapper as she moaned his name loudly into the air. The wedding was called off and Yoongi was devastated. You did your best to comfort him while forcing yourself not tell him you told him so.

Yoongi took a few weeks off to recover so you were in charge and things went smoothly. You were excited for his return only to be horrified at what you were met with.

The once happy and full of motivation Yoongi was replaced with the shell of man who was spiteful and outright mean. His heart melting gummy smile was replaced with a nonstop scowl. He fired people left and right and talked down to his employees. He wasn’t the Yoongi you’d known all these years. His broken heart had changed him to an unrecognizable person. But you still knew deep down that the Yoongi you knew was in there so you stuck around.

Bit by bit you snipped away at the barbed wire that surround him. His favorite coffee, lunch from his favorite Thai Restaurant. Tickets to see his favorite basketball team. Your secret fresh baked cookies that he had always loved.

One morning he came into work to find a brown stuffed poodle that looked exactly like the dog he had when he was in middle school. You saw the faintest hint of a smile at that one and you thought maybe you had finally got to him but then he took the toy and stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk to be forgotten and started barking out orders to people in the office.

Then one morning Yoongi called you into his office, something he didn’t do much of any more.

“Y/N, I’m moving the headquarters for the label to LA.”, he said after you took a seat.

“Wh-What? You can’t do that.”

He scoffed, “It’s my company. I can and I am. I need to get out of this city and start new. I can’t stay here any more.”

“What about the employees here? What about me?”, you questioned.

“We’ll keep a small team here the rest we’ll have to let go and as for you…I want you to move to LA with me.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Yoongi that’s the other side of the world. I have family and friends here. My whole life is here. I can’t just pack up and move.”

“I understand Y/N. I can’t force you to go but I really want you to. I need you to come with me.”, he said barely above a whisper.

So you agreed. And within a couple weeks you were packed up and goodbyes were said and you were moved to Los Angeles. It was a difficult decision but you would do anything that Yoongi needed and/or wanted.

The company was doing incredibly well while making record profits. Things were also going great between you and Yoongi. You were closer than you had been in a while. Your feelings began blossoming fuller and fuller as time went on now that things didn’t seem so tense.

One afternoon you walked into Yoongi’s office. He was on the phone with someone so you took a seat to politely wait.

“Mmhm I’ll be there.

I know I know it’s been a while.

Yeah my flight leaves at noon.

I know babe I’m excited.”

You rolled your eyes hearing him use the pet name. He smiled when he noticed your reaction before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Going on a trip?”, you asked.

He looked nervous as he fidgeted with a pen, “Actually Y/N, that is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You nodded letting him know you were listening.

He took a deep breath, “I’m moving back to Seoul.”

“What?!”, your mouth dropped open.”

He nodded, “I’ve been talking to someone, her name is Mae. We met at the Valentino show a couple months ago. She’s a model based out of Seoul so I’m going to move back there.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi I…you can’t move back. I gave up everything. I moved all the way to the other side of the world to follow you.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t force you to move here. You came here on your own Y/N. Just move back with me.”

“Yoongi I can’t just keep moving around the world whenever you have a new fuck buddy.”

He looked offended, “Mae is not a fuck buddy. I love her.”

You could feel tears begin to form, “You don’t love her Yoongi. You love that she puts out whenever you demand it. If she loved you she would come to you, not the other way around. Like I do. I’m always here for you. I do everything for you. I love you Yoongi.“

He stared at you for what felt like forever. Finally he slammed his laptop down, “I fail to see how that is my problem.“

His coldness shocked you. He had never spoken directly to you in that way. “That’s not very nice.”, you whispered through sniffles.

Yoongi softened at the sight of you realizing just how harsh he had been. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for speaking to you that way. I’m also sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you.”, he packed up his things and headed towards the door, “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow. You can stay here and run this sector of the company or come back to Seoul. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

He walked through the door letting it close behind him.

He moved back to Seoul as he had said. Him and Mae got engaged three months later. They were married the following year and divorced by the next one.

You remained in your position as the COO through all of it, mostly because of the pay and travel perks, because your relationship with Yoongi had become strictly business after you confessed. You stayed in Seoul to run that location while he moved back to LA. It hurt for a while and it took a lot for you to move on from him.

But eventually you did.

And when Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed the first person you called was Yoongi. He didn’t answer. He never responded to the text either. He didn’t come to your engagement party. He declined the wedding invite. All you got was a generic card in the mail that you could tell had been filled out by Jin. Eventually you gave up and decided to put in your resignation because you and Jungkook were moving to New York. He didn’t contact you even then.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that you heard from him again. There was a package that arrived for you.

A card read, “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I wish you all nothing but happiness... I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one.- Min Yoongi.”

In the box was a stuffed animal. A wide smile formed on your face as you took the bright green frog with a pink bow on its head and placed it in the crib next to your sleeping daughter before joining Jungkook in the kitchen to finish up dinner.

[gracies-baby]

Trouble with Parents

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

———————————————————

"Gracie.. wait.. your parents are home" Y/n mumbles against Gracie's lips as she lays on her girlfriend's be.

"So just be quiet. The walls are pretty thick" Gracie murmurs in reply as she pushes her lips against her girlfriends again and shifts so her leg is between Y/n's legs.

"Henry is literally in the room next door. Do you want him to hear?" Y/n pushes Gracie away and sits up against the headboard, pushing her shirt back down from where Gracie had moved it.

"C'mon babe, we got caught at school. We have a lock now. We can actually do something" Gracie whines as Y/n sighs in reply before moving closer to her girlfriend and connecting their lips once more, wrapping her arms around Gracie's neck. Gracie slowly pushes her girlfriend back against her bed before they hear a voice.

"Gracie! Y/n! Come down here please!" Gracie's mum yells from downstairs.

"She sounds mad" Y/n whispers as Gracie groans before walking down the stairs, Y/n following behind.

"Mum we were kinda busy, will this take long?" Gracie asks impatiently as she plays with Y/n's fingers.

"I just got off the phone with your principal. Do either of you want to explain to me why he told me you both missed your maths test today?" Katie turns her gaze away from the dinner she was cooking to look the two teenagers in the eye.

"Uh.. we missed the bus.. we had to get the later one" Gracie comes up with an excuse only for her mom to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Really? Because your brother told me your test was in the middle of the day and he saw you both in earlier classes. Apparently this isn't the first time you've skipped class" Gracie gulps audibly as Y/n looks at the carpet with a guilty look in her eyes.

"Ok, fine, we didn't miss the bus. We.. were late to the test and they said we could take it another day" Gracie scrambles for another excuse only for her mother to shut it down.

"Gracie, stop with the excuses. I know what you were doing. A few girls saw you in the bathroom and they went straight to your teacher. Now both of you listen to me. I know you're at that age where you both.. want to be with each other but there is a time and a place for those things. The high school bathroom during a test is not the time nor the place. You live right next door to each other, you don't need to sneak to the bathroom to make out"

"Yes mom, we get it. Are we dismissed?" Gracie mumbles in annoyance as Y/n continues to blush.

"Um, I should probably go home, actually. My moms gonna get mad if I keep spending the night here"

"Sure, I'll walk you" Gracie smiles at her girlfriend as Y/n says goodbye to the older woman before leaving the house with Gracie, hand in hand.

"I'm never making out with you at school again. That was so embarrassing!" Y/n exclaims as they walk down the street to her house.

"It wasn't that bad. My mom knows we do all that stuff. She's just pissed off that we missed the test"

Gracie replies, stopping when they get to her girlfriend's house.

"I don't care. It's either in one of our rooms or you don't get any" Y/n glares at her girlfriend before walking towards her front door.

"Babe, wait" she feels someone grab her arm, turning her around. She's about to speak when her girlfriend softly presses their lips together. Y/n wraps her arms around Gracie's neck as Gracie pulls her closer by her waist.

"Alright, that's enough Abrams" the two pull apart when they hear a voice coming from Y/n's front door.

"Mr. L/n! I was just leaving" Gracie stutters out nervously as she makes eye contact with her girlfriend's dad.

"Say goodbye Y/n" he says to his daughter as he continues to stare at the brunette.

"Bye Gracie. I love you" Y/n says to her girlfriend as she pulls her in for a hug.

"Bye N/n. I'll see you tomorrow, I love you" Gracie gives her girlfriend one last peck on the lips before walking away, saying bye to her girlfriend's dad before hand.

Gracie sighs when she walks back through her front door before walking to her room, only to be stopped by her older brother.

"Damn Gracie. Getting it on at school? How'd you get Y/n to agree to that?" Henry teases causing Gracie to glare at him.

"Ugh, shut up" she grumbles in reply before walking into her room and closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, go call Y/n! Finish it off!" He yells to her teasingly.

"Dude! You're disgusting!" She replies as August stands behind them with a clueless look on his face.

[lowkeyerror]

A New Victim

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.

Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist

You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.

Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.

Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.

You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.

“You’re friends with my sister, right?”

You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.

Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.

Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."

Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.

“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”

“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”

Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”

You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”

“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”

Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”

“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.

“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”

Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.

“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”

Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”

“What are you worried about?”

Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”

Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”

“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”

Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.

It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”

You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”

Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”

“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”

Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.

You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”

Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.

“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”

You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”

That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”

You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.

The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.

They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.

Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.

It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.

You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.

Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.

The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.

When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.

You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.

The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.

She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”

You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.

“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”

The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.

Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.

Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.

The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.

The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.

When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.

Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.

“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.

“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”

“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.

“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.

Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”

Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”

Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.

“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.

You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."

It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.

“Who?”

You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.

“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.

Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”

“Ghostface.”

[sheliaeddy]

(December 7, 2023) Bryansk School Shooting - Alina Afanaskina

-- I already posted this a little ago here. If you want to see the footage and the crime scene photos uncensored then they're there.

The Shooter's Profile

Alina Afanaskina was a 14 year old student from 8-”A” class at Bryansk's 5th Gymnasium (formerly School #70). Alina was a type of a person who didn't communicate closely with anyone. Everyone who asked about her was basically repeating the same things: calm, loner, unremarkable, not active on social networks. Even the class teacher preferred talking to Alina's twin-sister, Daria, because Alina always was very silent and never came up with any questions/initiative. Teachers periodically were bringing up the subject of Alina's socialization to her mother and sister, although at the same time they didn't have any complaints about her grades or general behavior.

Alina had two siblings, including twin-sister Daria (Dasha). Her mom is a courtroom cleaner and dad worked in a private security company. Neighbors were perceiving them as good people, a nice and normal family, with a friendly father, though more reserved mother and daughters (who, allegedly, weren't hanging out with other kids at the yard). They didn't suspect any sort of violence in that household, as well as e.g. alcohol abuse; father doesn't drink. The third sibling is known to be a 28-year-old sister who lives in Moscow with her husband for a long time.

The Shooting

On December 7, 2023, Alina refused to eat breakfast. The last two words that she said to her mother were "Don't howl,” (Не вой), which the woman didn't understand. Next, Alina and her sister left the house. They both decided to skip the first lesson - geography and go to a second one - biology. Daria arrived there on time, like everyone else. Around 10 minutes later, when students started repeating their homework with teacher, Alina entered the classroom - with her father's shotgun and dressed all in black (shirt, trousers, combat boots with a knife in one of them, tactical glove), differently from her usual white clothes. Alina opened fire, killing one student, injuring five others, and then turning the gun on herself.

Injuries and Deaths

Alina Afanaskina - shot herself and died.

Maria "Masha" Nesmachnaya - the victim who was killed.

(Masha was going to turn 15 on the 27 December. She is survived by her mother, stepfather and two brothers (one older and one younger who is also attending the same gymnasium), grew up in a religious family. Was mainly interested in cooking, sewing, knitting; also played the guitar and attended music school. According to her mom, she dreamed about becoming a doctor and saving people's lives in the future. Masha's mom described her as a type of person who preferred to avoid conflicts and was on good terms with everyone. In fact, she talked about Alina in a positive manner - saying that she's quiet, but nice and kind.)

Timofey B - shot in the left forearm, thigh, knee and chest

Petr E. - in the lung; his spleen, back, lower back and shoulder were damaged as well.

Timur D. - shot in the shoulder by six bullets: four of them wounded him and flew out, passed through his body, the other two got stuck in it.

Evelina K. - was injured on the chest.

Vitalina D. - wasn't shot, but broke her leg, while trying to escape.

Ofelya Mkrtchyan - a teacher who covered students with her own body when Afanaskina opened fire on them (and also needed medical treatment after it, though not seriously; no injuries among adults were officially reported) - recalled that Alina said absolutely nothing during the whole thing. Despite teacher's attempts to attract her attention, calling her name, she didn't even look at the woman, instead being focused on shooting classmates. Ofelya didn't notice any warning signs before tragic events. In her eyes Alina was a „capable, tactful and diligent” student, „calm, polite and responsible” on daily basis.

The Aftermath

The firearm Alina used during the massacre belongs to her father, Dmitry Afanasyev/Afanaskin, who is currently under police custody of investigation on how she procured the firearm. Dmitry denied all accusations of domestic abuse, claiming that he loves his children, worked as much as he could to provide them everything they needed and "was very happy about becoming a father again after so many years”. He didn't favor any of the twins; they were close with each other, shared the room, studied well.

As a former athlete, Dmitry was often encouraging his children to physical activities and healthy lifestyle since they were little - Alina and Daria were even attending dance school (in a group centered around hip-hop) for at least two years.

However, around a year prior to the shooting, Dmitry started spending less time at home due to work. People from the neighborhood were seeing sisters mostly alongside their mother.

Alina didn't leave any journal, suicide note or explanation behind her actions. All Telegram channels, claiming to be created by her, are fake.

Investigators suspected that Dasha might know about her sister's plans, but during interrogation she denied everything. When her parents appeared at the school right after the attack, girl started crying and kissing her mother's hands in panic. She also couldn't sleep for three days because of the trauma caused by events.

The media started pointing at bullying as the most possible motive. In the general opinion of teachers, students, parents - no such thing happened, Alina wasn't harassed; isolating herself from school peers was her own choice. She didn't have any enemies and treated everyone equally, just didn't want to talk with them due to her introverted attitude. "There was no bullying. We don't know why she did it. We can't say anything else” - stated girl's classmate. Although, another student interviewed right on the day of events, said the exact opposite: "Yes, they bullied her, but not always! She was normal until they told her: you can't do anything to us, you're helpless.”

A note found in Alina's backpack with a text about how she „needs to meet with a friend”, that attracted a bit of attention, was most likely some kind of a grammar assignment, as the matching diagrams about parsing sentences were written nearby.

The motive is unknown so you can come up with your own conclusion as to why.

All of the injured victims have already left hospitals. Gymnasium is open again, but class 8A was transferred to distance learning. Masha was buried in Bryansk's central cemetery, while Alina - in the small village between Bryansk and Seltso.

[leviscolwill]

i want you to miss me — jules kounde

jules has always had the terrible habit of being late to everything.

he would always get fined or even benched for running late to team talks. his friends started lying to him about the time they’re meeting up about seven years ago. and he had spent an incredible number of hours in detention for this when he was still in school.

but there was a time when he was never late whenever it came to you. he would skip class just to be on time when you got out of school, even when the only words you spat at him were insults. they sounded so beautiful out of your mouth, and the mere fact you acknowledged his existence was enough to satisfy him.

jules absolutely loved the chase. riling you up, watching the embarrassment creep up on you whenever he’d showed up with flowers you had the courtesy to take home. but the one thing he loved more than the chase was being loved by you.

if heaven was real, surely feel like your love. he looked forward to every moment with you. he was the perfect boyfriend anyone could dream of. everyone either wanted to be you, to be him, or was confused about who they wanted to be.

after a few months, he started being late to the dates you arranged to fit his schedule. when you moved together after a couple years, he’d come home later because he was catching up with his mates, dismissing the effort you’d put into the food and the candle that lit up the living room. but you would always find him excuses, compromised with him and that was easily forgotten.

there was no doubt in jules’ mind and heart that you were the woman of his dreams and that he would eventually grow old with you. he’d always make you feel understood and heard whenever you voiced your worries to him, asking him to be a little more present for you. it always got better, but only for a few weeks before he started missing dinners with your family. leaving it up to you to find new excuses to your nieces as to why he wasn’t here.

your last straw was the day of your graduation. he had promised on every precious thing he had he would be there on time, especially knowing your family wouldn’t be able to attend. jules was the only one that could be here for you that day. hell, he was the only one you needed that day. but he couldn’t even make that effort.

you were already seating in front of your university with big mascara stained tears when the car you knew too well pulled up. when your eyes met his, you only found the strength to tell him to get you home. he probably talked to you for the whole ride, with new excuses but your brain tuned it off, your decision was already made.

of course, it hurt that you broke up with him. but he was even more hurt by your helplessness, to see that it deeply pained you even if you were the one calling it quits. you told him to never contact you, it would be too hard not to give in. and so he did.

after the breakup, he didn’t even try to find the time to cry, or grieve the end of his first real love. instead, he drowned himself in work. and soon enough those efforts paid off. he was getting calls from multiple clubs, from his national team coach and the engine had started.

it’s not like he had forgotten about you, whenever he was celebrating his achievements with his friends, he’d always think about how he would have loved to celebrate with you. you had always been always happier than him about his successes and that made him thrive to get better.

he had allowed himself to love again. got himself a new girlfriend; loving and caring like you, but not like you. they broke up, and he was okay, even relieved in a way. thankfully, the scar you had left was slowly healing.

but he was so, so wrong about that. it only took one eye contact at a mutual friend engagement party to set him 4 years back. he remembered your tears, but mostly your laugh and that was enough to give him the confidence to walk up to you.

you look stunning, your sparkly dress looked like it was made for you, and he couldn’t help but take a little pride into thinking he’s the one who helped you navigate and find your real style. your smile was radiant and you made everybody around you laugh, like you always did.

“oh jules! it’s so nice seeing you, i didn’t think you would be there.” the tone you used had no hidden venom, only genuine surprise and happiness. others that had been glued to you since you stepped in walked away, well aware of you two’s history.

“yeah it’s been a while. you’re doing well, yeah ?” your radiant a mile made his own appear as questions were asked and answered back and forth naturally. and it didn’t feel like 4 years passed since he last spoke to you, he still felt like he knew you from the inside out, and he really did.

the feeling was mutual, you never felt such ease speaking to nobody but jules. he was looking gorgeous and well spoken as he’d always been. his eyes looked deep into yours whenever you were speaking, sometimes feeling a little bit more adventurous and trailing to your lips.

after what seemed like half an hour to the both you but was really two hours, jules felt the express the heavy feeling on his heart as his fingers traced your hand and played with your rings.

“you know… i don’t like how things ended between us. i know i have my wrongs, but i’m a better man now, thanks to you. i was thinking maybe we could you know grab coffee. i really wanna get to know the new you, like what you became since – well you know…”

“oh, i mean…” seeing the puzzled look on your face, he immediately cut you off.

“don’t get me wrong, yeah? it doesn’t have to be a date, or too anything too formal. just for the sake of old time and see where this takes us, you know.”

“jules…” his eyes finally dared to met yours. you had never seen him this nervous about anything before.

you took a deep breath before saying what needed to be said.

“i’m sorry… but i’m getting married in a month.” you really were sorry. sorry for him obviously. but mostly to yourself, because you’d always envision yourself walking down the aisle to him, not anyone else.

he stayed silent for a little while, taking a few seconds to admire the moles on your face that he had the habit to count when he was close enough to you.

“he makes you happy?”

“very…”

selfishly, he hoped you had said otherwise, but he also believed he probably deserved to feel that sharp pain in his heart. he had no one to blame but himself really, if he had the guts to contact you, to tell you how he felt before you’d met whoever the lucky guy was, maybe things would have been different.

but he was always too late, and that would never change.