#and then finger her wires friday. and signals saturday/sunday

[wuntrum]

celebrating ANOTHER sweaty wedneSday (only to be followed by sweaty thurSday)

[clarketomylexa]

Halley’s Comet and Other Extenuating Circumstances

“Halley’s comet,” Lexa finishes her train of thought with red cheeks. “I wish I didn’t have to wait,” she admits. “I want to go camping. Somewhere like Nevada. I want to see it properly.”

“Nevada?” Clarke whistles. “You’d miss calculus.”

“It’s chance I’m willing to take.”

“Skipping class?” Clarke says, appalled, “what would your perfect attendance record say about that?”

“It’s an extenuating circumstance,” Lexa maintains.

Clarke nods conspiratorially and leans over the table. “I believe you.”

read on ao3

The town stops for game day.

The post office closes early, which may or may not be a federal offence and the football players—rowdy and egging each other on with their letterman jackets slung around their shoulders—are excused from last period early. But perhaps the worst casualty of game day fever is the library which closes early on Friday afternoon because Mrs. Rodriguez's grandson plays wide-receiver on the team and she hasn’t missed a game of his since he was eight-years-old.

It leaves Lexa with precious few places where she can revise Spanish conjugations without being interrupted by people decked out in green, white and yellow and frankly, it’s stupid. For a phenomenon that occurs every week, it’s hardly worth the fuss it entails, especially when Lexa’s proposal to the city-council for a town-wide blackout in preparation for Halley’s Comet in forty years’ time was turned down as quickly as she submitted it.

“Did you know that it reflects 4% of the sunlight it receives,” she says, carefully writing out the present participles of the words listed in the assigned page of her textbook. Technically the pages aren’t due until Tuesday—her Spanish teacher is lenient with homework at best and in the habit of forgetting he set it at worst—but has AP History to study for on Sunday and Anya is dragging her out on Saturday for some ‘sister bonding’ under a guise of a house party Lexa doesn’t want to go to.

“What does?”

“The comet.”

Disgruntled, a heavy-set man emerges from beneath the counter of the diner, oil-stained rag tucked into the pocket of his jeans. Gus was swoon worthy in his day her mother would tell her over the dinner table while her father dropped his jaw, positively appalled. He was the quarterback for the championship winning team in 1986—the year Lexa could swear the town is stuck in—and was on a football scholarship to Ohio State until an injury put a kibosh on his NFL career and he was forced to return home with his tail between his legs and a bad disposition. The years of frowning have aged him and taken a toll on his hairline but his hatred for anything resembling football means he has become Lexa’s Friday night company and unlike her classmates, he has never once complained about her ‘fun facts’.

Anya says they deserve each other.

“‘S that right?” He grunts, wiping his hands on the rag and assessing his handiwork.

Lexa nods. “It only shines bright when it’s close enough to the sun for its dust and vapours to be burnt off.” She watches Jack frown at the still-leaking sink and leans on her elbows to peer over the counter. “Do you want me to take a look?”

“What ‘re you going to advanced Spanish the leak out of it?”

Lexa rolls her eyes but, point taken, she concedes.

Manual labour is not her strong point.

He resolves that he will have to call in the plumber on Monday and makes a note for himself to stick above the decrepit coffee machine that is still hanging onto life. Whenever she works the morning shift, she dreads the moment someone will ask for a cup of coffee because she is sure that today is the day it will give out on her completely and leave her with a mob of un-caffeinated townspeople on her hands.

“Can I get you another milkshake?”

She nods and slides a neat five-dollar bill over the counter.

More fool him for perpetuating her sugar addiction.

They both look to the door as the bell rings obnoxiously to signal the entrance of five girls clad in the green, white and yellow of the high schools cheerleading uniform and instinctively, Lexa goes to pull her belongings closer to her, resting her elbows on the counter and pulling herself inwards as they walk by and claim the booth by the window. If Gus sees the way her cheeks flush miserably, he has the good grace not to mention it.

He takes their order and sets Lexa’s second milkshake down next to her Spanish notebook before serving the girls their diet root-beer floats in five tall glasses and returning to the counter. Lexa stares at him as she listens to the mindless chatter—one of them has found a bar in town that doesn’t card, another got sent to the councillors office for a lecture on ‘appropriate behaviour on school grounds’ after she got busted making out with her boyfriend behind the gym. It makes Lexa want to pound her head in and by the look on Gus’s face, the diner owner feels the same.

She has always found it hard to connect with people.

It’s something that she seems come so naturally to her peers but whenever she went up to someone at recess in elementary school the ‘hi my name is’ and ‘can I play with you’ felt forced and awkward and ultimately would find her chickening out of a conversation she had initiated. Her father told her she was just ‘wired differently’ after she came to him in the third grade after a weekend researching into antisocial personality disorder. And although, admittedly, she was relieved to find out she wasn’t a psychopath, she couldn't help but think how unfair it was that out of a family of philanthropists, doctors and cheer captains, she had to be the one person who was average.

She tried her best not to be average—student government, debate team, six AP classes and two advanced ones—but so far, all it has done is entrench her further in a type of anonymity that she can’t seem to shake.

And she does want to shake it.

“Hi, Lexa.”

Wide eyed and calming the throbbing tattoo of her heart, Lexa slaps a hand over her notebook before turning to the voice. November is waning and Clarke is wearing the long-sleeved uniform top prescribed for cold weather—she knows it because of the number of times she has had to pick it up off of the floor of the laundry after Anya comes home from practice. But paired with the usual pleated mini skirt that Anya, as captain, petitioned to make shorter purely for ‘stunting reasons’ and not the glee of seeing her little sister spontaneously combust at the sight of her crush, it makes her sip of shake grow solid lodge itself in her throat like non-Newtonian fluid.

She swallows.

“Hi, Clarke.”

“You’re not coming to the game?”

Lexa knows she is being polite.

She hasn’t gone to a game since she was twelve-years-old.

“Spanish homework,” she shakes her head. “You?”

Clarke piques a brow and it takes Lexa moment before she realises her mistake. She tugs at the neck of her sweater, suddenly feeling hot beneath the knit of her turtleneck. “Sorry,” she blanches.

Clarke waves her hand as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’ and on the contrary, Lexa knows it will be weighing on her mind for the next week—for all the time she spends sitting in the bleachers staring at Clarke in uniform as she waits for Anya during practice, you’d think she’d remember what it stands for.

She drums her nails delicately on the counter even after Gus has given her change for the fifty she used to cover her table and Lexa tries not to think she is stuck on something—stuck on her maybe.  She blew her chance with Clarke when she chewed Anya out in front of the entire squad for bringing twenty-four girls home floor a sleepover without telling her in Pikachu pyjama pants and her middle school track and field t-shirt.

“If you ever did want to go to a game I’d be happy to give you a ride,” Clarke posits when Lexa has all but given up on her saying anything at all. “I know Anya can take you, but if you’re ever at a loose end.”

“Football isn’t really my scene,” Lexa smiles apologetically.

Clarke laughs. “I gathered.”

She hovers for a moment longer.

“The offer stands,” she says.

Her friends call her from the door and she disappears down the steps, car-keys swinging from her fingers before Lexa can reply and she sits on her barstool feeling shell shocked. Her cheeks are ruddy and she digs her chin into the lip of her sweater as if she can retreat behind the protection it provides and Gus has the good grace to allow her a moment of quiet contemplation before wiping the counter down with a dish towel.

“You don’t have to stay on my account,” he says as nonchalantly as he knows how. “If you want to go, then go.”

“I don’t,” she mumbles miserably.

He presses his lips in the silence and she juts her chin to fix him with an intent stare, unblinking from behind round glasses.

“I don’t.”

He sighs a long-suffering sigh and slings the dish-towel over his shoulder.

“Have it your way.”

The next Friday Lexa is working a shift and she is grateful because waiting tables and keeping Gus from throwing the panini press out of the window, cord and all, takes her mind away from the fact that Clarke hasn’t come in for a pre-game diet root beer float. The last week wasn’t the first time she had come in on a Friday—Lexa has spent more than she can count watching the gaggle of cheerleaders in the window booth push missing the time Anya insists they be at the stadium to warm up by—but it was the first time Clarke made a point to talk to her and the change in routine is unsettling. Especially since, in the space of the week, she had talked herself into saying yes should Clarke as if she wanted a ride again.

The four o’clock crown wanes to a lone man in a tartan scarf, furiously avoiding the football stats in the Tribune like the plague—a kindred spirit Lexa thinks—and Lexa busies herself with the calculus revision she sets up behind the counter. Gus comes past to wipe down the counter and she moves to let him through. He follows her and she moves back.

“You stare at that book any longer you’ll become a differential equation,” he grumbles.

“I’m surprised you know what that is.”

“Don’t take your anger out on me just because your girlfriend missed your date,” he holds his hands up in surrender and

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” Lexa says too quickly.

Gus mutters something that sounds like ‘damn teenagers’ under his breath as he takes a basket of French fries to the table in the corner and Lexa pretends not to hear.

When the diner is empty Gus lets her buy a burger and fries with a twenty from the till.

It comes with a lukewarm Cherry Coke that was miss-poured earlier and she sips it as she moves from calculus to AP English and her essay on the characters and themes of Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’. An hour later, she is on the second paragraph. She is in the middle of writing about how ‘Hamlet, in essence, is a detailed dialogue on appearance versus reality’ when the bell rings and she tempers her annoyance at being interrupted to paste a customer service smile on but when she looks up, Clarke is standing in the doorway and the sight of her makes Lexa do a double take.

Her hair is scraped up into a high ponytail—the prescribed three-inches from her hairline as set by Anya in the team handbook— but strays fall listlessly about her forehead as casualties of their half-time routine and her cheeks are pink. She has a thrift-store windbreaker over her uniform and bare legs, her fingers wound in the strap of the bag she has slung over her shoulder.

“What can I get you?” Lexa schools herself.

“A root beer float, please,” Clarke smiles, sliding a five dollar bill over the counter.

“Just you?”

“We won,” she nods, as if it’s an explanation, “everyone went out.”

“Not you?”

Clarke shakes her head and Lexa watches her lip sneak up between her teeth. It leaves her hot and reeling for a reason she doesn’t want to get into in the middle of her work place.

“I have Spanish homework.”

It takes Gus to intervene and pry Clarke’s change out of the the till before Lexa comes back to herself. Clarke is staring at her in a way that Lexa can’t decipher and it’s making her anxious—more than anxious, dizzy and clammy and horribly underdressed in her school clothes and cloth apron. She pulls the ballpoint pen from behind her ear.

“Lexa can sit with you if you want,” Gus says.

“I’m working,” she replies immediately, voice edging up an octave in panic.

It’s one thing imaging these circumstances from afar. The act of doing is always the part Lexa has trouble with.

“She’s off the clock,” Gus pats her on the back with a hulking hand.

He steers them to a booth and Clarke’s drink comes a minute later.

Lexa sits opposite Clarke, picking at the hem of her jeans with fingers that won’t seem to cooperate.

“I can get another straw,” Clarke offers.

Lexa shakes her head. “I’m sorry about Gus,” she inclines her head to the man, “he takes his duties as pseudo-father too seriously.”

“I heard that.”

Chagrined, Lexa ducks her head.

“I don’t mind,” Clarke says brightly. “It’s nice.”

“Really?”

She nods, grin widening.

“I don’t get to see you like this. You’re always so serious.”

“I don’t like Fridays,” Lexa says plainly.

Clarke looks at her in open-mouthed reproach as she liked a stripe up her vanilla ice-cream covered straw. “Who doesn’t like Fridays?”

“I find town wide shut downs troubling.”

“But they’re okay if they’re for a ‘once-in-a-lifetime astrological event’,” Clarke recites gleefully, “right?”

“You remember that?” Lexa winces.

“Do I remember the thirteen-year-old who got up in front of the city council to demand they make allowances for a comet that will only be visible in forty year’s time?” she piques a brow.

Lexa’s cheeks grow hot and she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her whole, looking everywhere but at Clarke who is laughing a soft, airy laugh that is so different in cadence to what Lexa hears when she listens to Clarke giggle about the football players at college boys.

“If it’s any consolation, I think it’s nice,” her voice softens when she sees Lexa’s reaction and she slides a hand across the table, fingers stopping just short of where Lexa’s rest—Lexa has it in her to feel disappointed. “I like that you’re so passionate about things. The world would be a pretty boring place without it.”

She says it so succinctly, it could be a fact in a textbook and for that fact, Lexa feels herself compelled to believe it.

“I wish it was sooner,” she says softly.

Clarke lifts her focus from the melting ice-cream and carbonated soda of her float, lips pursed around her straw. “What?”

“Halley’s comet,” Lexa finishes her train of thought with red cheeks. “I wish I didn’t have to wait,” she admits. “I want to go camping. Somewhere like Nevada. I want to see it properly.”

“Nevada?” Clarke whistles. “You’d miss calculus.”

“It’s chance I’m willing to take.”

“Skipping class?” Clarke says, appalled, “what would your perfect attendance record say about that?”

“It’s an extenuating circumstance,” Lexa maintains.

Clarke nods conspiratorially and leans over the table. “I believe you.”

“Gus, please,” Lexa whines, all but desperate.

She has her usual textbooks tucked beneath her arm and backpack over her shoulders but a newly affixed pout on her lips that has been put there through no fault of her own. Or perhaps it was a fault of her own. But in truth she hasn't spoken to Clarke since Gus shoved them unceremoniously together in a booth last Friday night and as far as she was concerned she wasn’t going to again. She had had her five minutes. It was enough to last her a lifetime.

Clarke, apparently, had other intentions and when she approached Lexa in calculus third period, pulling her book over to Lexa’s desk under the guise of ‘asking for help’ in the otherwise silent classroom to ask her to come to the game Lexa had practically leapt out of her skin.

“This is me asking you to come,” Clarke had said, it wasn’t cocky but it had an air about it that she was used to getting what she wanted. “So now you have to. You’re contractually obliged.”

She slipped her a note later that said she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to of course but by that time Lexa’s brain was buzzing too hard for it to sink in.

She panicked.

No one ever said she’s a functioning excuse for a human being.

“You work anymore shifts and I’m going to run out of money to give you,” Gus grumbles, hand on her back as he guides her towards the door.

“I’ll work for free,” she wagers.

He walks her outside and stands in the door, hand on the door jamb and looks at her sagely.

“It’s not a trap,” he tells her after a moment. Lexa’s heart loosens in her chest at the words and she thinks that he might be smarter that he gives himself credit for.

“How do you know?”

“I have eyes,” he scoffs, rubbing a hand over his face like she is giving him a headache. By the frequency of the movement, she thinks she does it a lot. “You do too,” she says when she doesn’t seem to understand. “And you’ve been using them to moon over that Griffin girl since you were fifteen-years-old. Today, she invited you to the game and if I have to sit there,” he jabs a finger towards the counter, “ and watch you look miserable for another week because you let yourself get in the way, I may just sell up and force you out.”

Lexa swallows and adjusts the weight of her books in her arms and he softens his presence.

“Go see your girlfriend, Lexa.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

She goes to the game.

She doesn’t know what else to do.

It’s loud and bright, and the absolute opposite of what she thought she would be doing with her evening but she makes the most of it. She sits halfway up the bleachers with her clear-file of physics revision in her lap and pretends that she isn’t bothered every time the family next to her launches themselves to their feet at the sight of their son with the ball.

After half-time, Clarke pulls Anya aside and points up the bleachers to where Lexa is sitting. She can see the frown on her sisters face slowly melt into something devilish and wants to throw herself to the ground and hide but before she can, Clarke is bounding up the metal stairs and shimmying her way down the row to the empty seat next to Lexa. Her hair is neat but her cheeks are red and there is sweat clinging to her hairline. She grabs Lexa’s forearm with a dazzling smile.

“You came,” she beams.

“You invited me,” Lexa replies dumbly.

Clarke smiles a small, secret smile and Lexa finds herself wondering if it is for her.  

“I thought football wasn’t your scene,” she levers herself into the spare seat, so close that Lexa can feel the heat of her through her coat.

Anya looks up with a wacky thumbs-up to which of them, Lexa doesn’t know.

All she does know is that she isn’t on speaking terms with her anymore and her cheerleading top is going to get an unfortunate soak in bleach the next time she leaves it on the floor of the laundry room.

She looks at Clarke and smiles.

“It was an extenuating circumstance.”

[miss-writes-a-lot]

Persona 6 Chapter 12: Into the Castle

March 7, 20XX Friday Early Morning Two days before the deadline

Jumin had stayed up all night after the girls left just to make sure there were no altercations. He was currently asleep, face down on his desk. He only woke up when he heard a loud knocking on his bedroom door. He woke up in a panic before calming down. "C-come in!" The door opened and entering was his mother. "Hey, time to get ready for school." She said.

"Uh...actually, I'm not going to school." Jumin said nervously, looking down and twiddling his fingers. "Wait, what do you mean you're not going to school?"

"I was gonna...ask you if I could skip? Please mom! I have to save Isas, and the only way I can is to go to the Toxic Isles and-" Grey put her hands up slightly as if she was surrendering. "Easy, easy! I'll let you go just...follow me."

Jumin tilted his head in confusion as he followed her out of his room and to the center of the hallway. She reached up to the ceiling and pulled down it down. "We have an attic?" Jumin asked.

"You've lived here for sixteen years and you didn't know we had an attic?"

"I spent a lot of those years in my room, mom."

"Just get your ass up there." Jumin shrugged as he and his mother made their way into the cramped attic filled with old boxes. Grey crawled over to a very long, wooden trunk. She pulled it towards her and opened it, pulling out a long and old katana, handing it to Jumin.

"W-what's this?" Jumin asked puzzled. "Your dad's old katana. Not really sure if it's still useable, but...he wanted to give it to you if you ever got your persona...and now that you have, I thought you could use it..." She said, looking down as she handed it to Jumin. Jumin sighed as he placed the katana down gently and went to hug his mother. Grey gripped hard onto Jumin's shirt. "Mom, please don't start crying....I don't wanna be the reason you cry..." Jumin whispered. "T-too late...I love you too damn much to watch you get hurt...b-because you're my son. M-my only son, really....I don't wanna lose my little JuJu...m-my...my.." Grey couldn't finish. Jumin sighed as he caressed his mother's back gently as he hugged her. "I-I know...I love you too, mom. A-and I promise to come back...I promise..."

Grey smiled as she kissed Jumin's cheek. "I know you will...you're a Narukami-Eko. We're brave and very stubborn." Jumin chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I promise I'll make it back...I promise. This is only a test run anyway. Just see what we're dealing with...I'll make it back...for you and dad...I-I promise..." Grey smiled and caressed his knuckles before she let go. "I love you, Jumin..."

"I-I love you too, mom..." Jumin broke away and took the katana, along with the chest itself but stopped. "Wait, won't it be a bit weird that I'm carrying around very dangerous objects?" Jumin asked.

"I told you, you're an Eko. That usually means you can get away with stuff like this." Grey replied. Jumin was about to say something, but he just shook his head and left. "Thanks for the weapons, mom!"

"That's what we're here for!"

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

The girls arrived just a few minutes after Jumin had began to set up camp just in case they were there longer than they had to. Jumin looked up from setting up the weapons once he heard the girls arrive, both were in a bit of shock. "Where did you get all of these?!" Suki asked, a bit fearful that it was the result of something illegal. "Mom gave 'em to me. She thought we could use 'em." Jumin explained.

"So she keeps weapons in your house?!" Kimi exclaimed. Jumin nodded casually. "Yeah, pretty much."

"You are too calm about this." Kimi sighed. "Look, just pick your poison. I already got mine." Jumin picked up his father's old katana and swung it over his shoulder.

"C-careful with that!" Kimi exclaimed. "Sorry..." Kimi grunted at Jumin's carelessness as Suki and her knelt down to find their own weapons. Suki found a pearl white long bow and steel arrows. "Perhaps this would make a good range weapon..." Suki said to herself quite loudly. "What about a melee?" Kimi asked.

Suki thought for a moment, scanning through the many possibilities. What would go good with a long bow in battle? Maybe a carving knife? No, that won't do...maybe a dagger? No...why I can't I find anything good?!

Tired of being unable to make a decision, Suki simply decided to just keep the long bow until she found a good melee weapon. Kimi easily picked up a large steel bat and began to swing it around recklessly. Jumin rolled his eyes a bit. "Such a hypocrite..." He muttered.

Kimi playfully punched him in the arm, snickering. "Everybody ready?" Suki asked. The other two nodded. "Alright, let's go." She then commanded. She signaled for them to follow her and they ran head first into the falls.

The trio fell into the Toxic Isles with their suspicions being correct. After their little attempt yesterday, the castle had become heavily guarded with wire and metal gates where the former accessible entrances would be. "Shit.." Jumin muttered.

Suki placed a hand on his shoulder with a look of determination on her face. "We'll find a way. This is simply just...a minor set back. We can get past it!" Jumin flashed a miniscule smile and nodded. He stepped forward to reexamine the castle and its layout. "I have to get inside. " Jumin stated.

"What?!" Kimi exclaimed.

I won't be able to get the complete layout and download on to my laptop."

"B-but remember what happened last time?! And plus, do you really need a layout for this place?" Jumin frowned. "No Kimi. I absolutely don't need a crucial piece of our plan." He replied sarcastically.

Kimi pouted. "Y-you don't have to be such a dick about it..." Jumin sighed. "I need to get some ideas of the layout just in case he decides to change something again."

"Mmm...fine! We'll go! B-but how are we gonna get in? All our options are basically shot." Suki smiled as she looked off at the castle. "Well, not quite...."

"What do you mean?" Suki said nothing. She went on a full sprint and jumped from the current isle and onto the other.

"W-what she doing?!" Jumin asked in a panic. Kimi grinned widely. "I have no idea. But I'm gonna do it too!"

"WHAT?!" Kimi didn't wait for Jumin to stop freaking out. She jumped onto the other isle and followed behind Suki. Jumin sighed. God these girls are gonna kill me...

Jumin jumped himself, flailing his arms a bit as he jump, considering he has never done anything like this before. He quickly and quietly ran to catch up with the girls. They stopped once they reached the right side of the castle wall. "Suki, give me a boost." Kimi requested. "Wait, you're actually gonna climb that wall?!" Jumin gasped. "Well, duh! Now help me up!"

Both Suki and Jumin knelt down and boost Kimi up the wall. She tightly grabbed the edges as she hoisted herself up and over the wall. She walked to the heavily locked gate, took out her bat, and smacked it against the locks, which broke apart bee quickly. "What flimsy locks..." Suki pointed out.

"Well they can't exactly withstand the womanly power that is Kimchi Kiyoshi." Jumin said. Kimi flashed a cocky smirk, but her glory was short lived when they felt the ground beneath them shake.

"He must know we're here..." Suki whispered.

"Let's just get in there. Better to know what might happen then wait for Saturday."

"Saturday?" Kimi pondered, tilting her head a bit, "isn't the deadline Sunday?" Jumin shrunk a bit. "Jumin? Is there something we don't know..?"

"M-maybe..." The girls crossed their arms, a "mom look" on their expressions. Jumin eventually caved in. "Okay, okay! Midnight! The deadline might actually be midnight on Saturday cause that's when the day starts! That's what we always abided by when we came up with this whole anniversary shit!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Jumin shook his head, scared.

Suki sighed. "So that means...we only have today to prepare..."

"S-sorry..." Kimi shook her head. "L-let's just get in there."

"Right. Let's go." The trio carefully enter the castle grounds. Everything seemed so much bigger than before. Isas must have been working very hard to make this place "perfect." There was just something about it...something important. Something they were missing. What was it?

"Mother and father never loved me..." A calming voice rang, singing through the courtyard of the kingdom. "Isas...?"

"They absolutely hated me. From the moment I was born...I was imperfect. I was never "good enough" for anyone. They hit me every day...for every little thing..." The group came to a halt to listen to the voice as he spoke. "I guess that's why I am so jealous of everything and everyone...even Jumin~kun..."

Jumin let out a small gasp, hands flying over his mouth. Jealous...? Of me?

"He had such a loving family...and such a loving heart...I never had that...I'll never have that...why can't I have that?" Oh Isas... Jumin clenched his fists tightly as he looked down. If only he had taken more notice, if only he had talked to him more, then maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe they would have been happier. Maybe...Isas would have been happier. "...I cannot let that happen again. Not again. That is why...you. Must. LEAVE!" Suddenly, out of nowhere, a trio of shadows ambushed them. "Alright! Our first real battle!" Kimi cheered as she got into position.

"Okay, let's do this!" Suki exclaimed. "PERSONA!" Jumin yelled, casting Magaru, "Take em down!"

"Alright! Now you're getting it! Go! Atalanta!" Kimi shouted, inflicting Mabufu on all of them. "Yeah, that's more like it!"

"Arise! Hegemony!" Suki cried, casting Teradyne. "Your time is up!" With that last hit, the shadows disappeared and left behind some money. "Holy shit! Cash!" Kimi exclaimed, bending down to pick up all the loot.

"Again?! Ugh! Will you ever learn not to mess with my things?!" The voice boomed. "We're not leaving here without you, Isas! That's a promise!" Jumin yelled. "Ugh. So stubborn. So annoying. Very well then...why don't we all make a deal?"

"...What kind of deal?" "If tomorrow night, when the moon is full, you and your little party succeed in defeating me...I will return your Isas...but if you fail..well, let me just say it was nice knowing you all..." Jumin's eyes widened at the realization of what could happen and was most likely to happen if they failed. "I-it's a deal..." Jumin breathed. The voice chuckled. "Very well then...it is a pleasure doing business with you." With that, the voice disappeared. Jumin was left standing there, eyes still wide and body shaking. What did I just agree to...?

"Jumin? Are you okay?" Kimi asked. "...I have do something...I'll see you guys tomorrow..." The girls looked at each other with great concern, but let him be. "O-okay...see you tomorrow, Jumin."

"Stay safe.."

"...I will." I will...

(I'll be opening a q and a for anyone who's interested after the boss chapter ia over.)

[derpyflowergarden]

Comfort In Weird Ways

Crossposted on AO3 This was self indulgent nonsense I wrote a long time ago. I mean, I wrote Mondo in a skirt, so why not a bra?

((CUT FOR LENGTH))

It was supposed to be a secret. No one was ever supposed to find out, but of course lady luck had never been on Mondo’s side. He should've known he was going to get caught sooner or later, he'd just been hoping it could've been later than now.

If anyone asked, he could lie and say it was mostly the fault of his classmates or even Fujisaki alone, but he knows deep down he only has himself to blame. He just wishes it hadn't been Ishimaru who found out.

It had started a few weeks prior when some of the class had been hanging out in the cafeteria. Classes were finished and it was the weekend, and the few who were still at the school instead of heading home all hung out together playing games and just enjoying each other’s company. That night it was Mondo, Chihiro, Leon, Asahina, Oogami, Hifumi, Enoshima and Ikusaba. At the moment, a game of truth or dare had been going. So far, Leon had to drink a mixture of coffee and Sprite, Hifumi had admitted that he enjoyed watching My Little Pony (of course he did) and Enoshima had to attempt eating a huge chili pepper that had gotten from the kitchen.

“Now let's see, who shall my victim be?” Enoshima said in a cutesy voice, eyeing her classmates before finally setting her sights on the biker. “Alright Oowada, truth or dare?” Mondo cursed internally. As fun as truth or dare was, Enoshima was known for her crazy dares and pinpointing truth questions. But he'd could totally handle whatever the fashionista threw at him.

“Gimme whatever dare ya got.” And this is what started everything. Enoshima sat back and through for a moment, bringing her finger up to her lips as she pondered what she could make Mondo do, before a sadistic grin spread across her pretty features.

“I know exactly what I'm going to dare you to do! I'll be right back!” With that, the Ultimate Fashionista stood up and ran towards the dormitories. Mondo tried to hold back the shiver that his body was threatening to release.

“Aw man, this should be good.” Leon laughed, and Mondo went to swat at him.

“Should we continue...or do we wait for Junko to come back?” Asahina asked, and the class agreed to continue their game. It had been two more rounds before Junko returned, and she was actually skipping, a bag held in her hands.

“Alright Oowada, here's my dare for you!” Junko said, and she thrust the bag into a confused Mondo’s lap. “I just knew this would come in handy! The company I ordered that from sent me the wrong size, and let me keep it after I sent them a glowing complaint as compensation!” Junko chirped. Mondo opened the bag and looked inside, and immediately after he shut it and his face went scarlet.

“What's in it?”

“Is it a frilly maid outfit?”

“Was it something dirty?”

“Enoshima what the fuck?!” Mondo growled over the chorus of exclamations.

“Your dare is that you have to wear that all day on Monday, and you can't cop out and just stay in your room! Also make sure your shirt is white, I wanna make sure you're wearing it!” Junko grinned, and Mondo cringed as he looked down at the bag in his lap. Suddenly it was gone and Mondo looked up in time to see Leon pull out the articles of clothing (or lack of) from the bag. Some of girls giggled and some gasps were heard, while Leon wolf whistled.

“Damn, this is sexy! Too bad it's getting wasted on Mondo!” Leon laughed and held up the lace lined black bra. It was much too large for Junko’s body, but it looked large enough for Mondo to wear somewhat comfortably. Mondo snatched the bra out of Leon’s hands and flung it back in the bag. “Fuck you Leon! I'll fucking rock this damn bra!” Mondo growled at the red head, glaring daggers until Junko declared that she couldn't wait to see the look on the rest of the classes faces.

Fast forward to that Monday, the day where it actually began. Mondo had woken up extra early in order to prepare himself, hell it had taken him all of Sunday to get ready, but now he stood in front of his mirror, holding the...article...at arms length in front of him. He wasn’t going to lie, but he had originally thought if he were ever going to hold a bra this close to him, it would be taking it of a girl, not putting it on his body. But that idea had also flew out the window when he realized he wasn’t really into girls, but no one needed to know that.

But that was besides the point. Right now, Mondo looked down at the bra once more, thinking maybe he if stared at it long enough maybe it’ll poof itself out of existence. When that hadn’t happened, the biker groaned before slipping the garment on. He had already wasted enough time as it was, and he knew if he didn’t show up for the first class, Enoshima would make him do something worse than this.

Get a grip! His mind screamed at him. It’s just a piece of clothing! What are ya getting so freaked out about?! Yeah, it was just a piece of clothing. No big deal. Mondo struggled a bit as he fumbled trying to reach the clasp on his back (thank God Chihiro was able to show him how to put it on one Saturday, as he almost ripped the garment in half in frustration), but eventually it was strapped on and

Holy shit.

This was weird! What the hell! Why the hell did this feel so...so…

Nice?

No seriously, this wasn’t supposed to feel comfy, it wasn’t supposed to feel cool against his skin and...supportive? It actually fit him, it was kinda snug on the sides but it fit. The only weird issue he had was the fact it cupped out in the front and made his pecs look like actual boobs, but only slightly since the bra stretched more sideways and Chi had taken out the wires. Why did this feel so nice?!

His phone buzzing signaled that he was going to be late(r than usual) and Mondo had threw the rest of his clothes on and headed to class. It was awkward having the feeling of pressure on his shoulders from the straps, but he didn’t mind it all too much. ‘This is gonna be easy!’ Mondo thought, as he strode towards the classroom

It was when he walked inside the room when his peers all locked their eyes onto him that Mondo realized that it was not, in fact, going to be easy.

“Hey, there’s the man of the hour!” Leon called out, and everyone turned to look towards the doorway. Mondo froze, and he felt his face flush slightly, not expecting to get so much attention.

“Kyoudai, you’re 8 minutes la…” Kiyotaka had started to scold him, but trailed off as he looked at him. Mondo saw his eyes zero in on his chest, and he had to keep himself from turning tail and taking the bra off.

“Aw, you actually showed up, and here I was ready to give you such a great punishment.” Enoshima pouted, but she smirked at Mondo’s growing discomfort, watching his face grow darker by the second.

Mondo ground his teeth and quickly stormed over to his desk, sitting down heavily, glaring at the dark spruce wood desk. He refused to acknowledge the giggles and whispers of his classmates. Nope. He was not going to give them the satisfaction. He can do this.

“Mondo...why...er...why are you…” Kiyotaka started, but trailed off, and Mondo fought the urge to bang his head on his desk.

“I dared him to do it on Friday! He has to wear that all day or else I give him a worse punishment!” Junko exclaimed, and a mixture of nods and understanding murmurs spread, and Mondo groaned. Thankfully, the teacher had shown up then, and began the lesson, but not before giving him a funny look. Mondo slipped down in his seat and pretended he was not in class.

It wasn’t until after the humiliation he had gotten during class was over did things look better, and Mondo pretty much was alright during the rest of the day, except for the awkward atmosphere he’d have while with Kiyotaka, although he couldn’t tell if it was because he was wearing a bra or not.

Mondo thought that after that day, that would be the end of it. He dealt with wearing a bra for a day, and he no longer had to think about the lacy black comfy bra he wore.

() () () () ()

“You want me to do what?” Chihiro had asked him in surprise, and Mondo fought the urge to flee.

“I want ya to help me buy another bra.” Mondo repeated. “I know this is fuckin’ weird Chi, but yer the only one I can ask. I mean, I figured you’d be able ta help me cause you’ve bought girly clothes before and I thought “bra’s are girl clothes” and yeah it’s not exactly the same thing but-” Mondo rambled, his voice growing louder and his body starting to shake.

“Mondo!” Chihiro cut him off. Once Mondo was quiet, Chihiro walked over to their computer and began typing something, before gesturing the nervous biker over. Chihiro had pulled up a frilly looking website.

“I use this to order my clothes. I don’t like the pressure I feel when I order clothes in the store, so I order my clothes here. They even have a section for lingerie for men.” Chihiro said, and Mondo felt his jaw drop. Chihiro giggled at his expression. “Don’t look like that. You’re the one who said you wanted another bra. Besides, it’ll be nice knowing there’s someone else who’s like me.” Mondo shook his head, before smiling and ruffling Chihiro’s hair.

So after a week, Mondo had not one, but three new bras. They had a special sale of three for 20$, and considering the normal prices were ridiculous, the pair had jumped on the chance. After the difficulty of getting the correct sizes for Mondo (“Wait there are numbers involved in bra sizes? I thought it was letters?”), they had ordered a white, nude, and gray bra for him.

“All I ask is you tell me how they feel after you wear one for the first time. I’m curious how it goes.” Chihiro had said. “Also, make sure when you wear them, don’t wear white like the first time.”

It had taken another few days until Mondo finally managed to put on one of the new bras. Again, he felt a surge of...something when he put it on, and it actually fit correctly without causing a weird lump in his shirt like the black bra. It wasn’t even noticeable in the mirror! Yet he had still felt some apprehension for when he walked into the classroom, but no one said anything, and he Mondo felt relief wash over him. After that, he was able to get away with wearing a bra about once or twice a week without getting any weird looks or comments from his classmates. Besides Chihiro, everyone was none the wiser.

Until now.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and it was one of the weekends that Kiyotaka was staying at the school grounds. So the two of them had decided to go out and get lunch together, have a bro day. It had been crowded around the area, so Mondo had to park farther down from their destination, but that had been no problem to the two, the weather was nice and it gave them a chance to walk off the food. The two had been enjoying their meal, laughing and joking as always, until Kiyotaka noticed that they sky was growing darker.

“Perhaps we should get back, it looks like it will rain soon.” Kiyotaka said, and Mondo agreed. Neither of them had brought an umbrella, and they had taken Mondo’s bike to get here. Kiyotaka was nervous on Mondo’s motorcycle as it was, in the rain it’d be impossible.

They had gotten about a third of the way to where they had parked when it the rain started. It was a total downpour, and the two of them rushed under a bus stop.

“Damn, it really coming down.” Mondo commented once they were safe from the rain. They were on a small side street, and besides an occasional car or rushing passerby getting out of the rain, it was pretty much quiet. “Ya think it’ll let up soon?”

“I hope so, I wouldn’t want to stay here all day.” Kiyotaka had replied, looking up at the sky. Mondo tried not to stare at his friend, but it was kind of hard not to. Kiyotaka’s hair had slicked back from the rain, the lighting from the sky making his face look sharper, more angular, and his shirt was clinging to him, showing off the muscles that were normally hidden. In short, Kiyotaka look extremely attractive, more so than usual. Suddenly, Kiyotaka was looking over at him, and Mondo gave him a sheepish smile. When Kiyotaka didn’t return it, Mondo began to panic.

Shit! He probably noticed him staring. Had he been making a weird face? Did he look creepy? Mondo saw Kiyotaka’s face grow red, and he was sure that Kiyotaka was going to call him out on being a creepy asshole when:

“Mondo...are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?” Kiyotaka asked, and Mondo paused in confusion.

“Huh? What are ya talking about, I’m not wearing anythin-” Mondo looked down at his clothes and

Oh

Oh.

AHHH HE FORGOT HE HAD PUT A BRA ON TODAY! Fuck! He had totally forgotten he put the skin toned one on when he grabbed it while looking for his socks. Now because of the storm, just like his Kyoudai, his clothes had also started clinging to his body, and it had made the bra stand out.

Shit Shit Shit!

“I...it’s uh…” Mondo tried to form an excuse, but he couldn’t think of any. It’s not like he could say it was on a dare, the only believable culprits were at home, and it’s not like he could say it was a lump on his body.

“Mondo, I-” Kiyotaka began, and that was all it took before Mondo began his nervous babble. “Alright look it’s just a bra I didn’t get dared or anything it’s mine I bought it it feels nice and I like how they look and I swear Kiyotaka if you say anything I’ll-”

“Can I see it?”

The pounding rain sounded so distant, and the two boys stared at each other. What?

“...What?” Mondo asked, and Kiyotaka slapped his hand over his mouth. Kiyotaka’s face looked as red as Mondo’s felt.

“I-I didn’t say that! Forget I said that!” Kiyotaka exclaimed, his hands rushing to this motions of his ‘Forget Beam’ before he quickly turned away.

“Hell no, did you just ask if you can see my bra?!” Mondo asked, grabbing Kiyotaka’s shoulder and forcing him back around.

“Ngh! It was a slip, I didn’t mean to ask that.” Kiyotaka said, guilt written across his wet face. “I just...thought it looked good on you the first time you wore one, or what I could see from it. I had been wondering what it looked like without...err…” Mondo was floored. He thought Kiyotaka had felt embarrassed by him that day, not flustered!

“Wait, you ain’t grossed out by this?” Mondo asked, and Kiyotaka shook his head.

“No, of course not! If you wish to wear this, then I will support you! If I were disguisted by this, then how could I face Fujisaki? I have no problem with you wearing a b-bra at all.” Kiyotaka said, and Mondo felt relief wash over him, however it didn’t last long.

“So...you like seeing me in this?”

“Yes!...er...yes, it's very...appealing?” Kiyotaka glanced away again, and Mondo had an idea. There was a chance he’d say no, but he had to risk it...

“Taka, if ya really want, I’ll let ya see it when we get back…” Mondo began, and Kiyotaka perked up and looked over at Mondo once more. “...only if ya answer me one thing.” Kiyotaka nodded, and Mondo took a deep breath before asking:

“Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”

“...Aren’t we already out together?”

“...I meant more like a date…”

“Oh!”

More rain, and a siren was heard in the distance.

“Yes.” Mondo felt his eyes widen.

“Y-ya mean it?” Kiyotaka laughed lightly, going to take the hand on his shoulder and lacing their fingers together.

“Yes, Mondo, I would be more than happy to go on a date with you!” Kiyotaka said, and Mondo smiled before pulling Kiyotaka into a hug.

“Besides, I think it’d be better if only your boyfriend got to see your undergarments, yes?” Kiyotaka asked confidently, and Mondo stiffened, before burying his face into Kiyotaka’s shoulder. Leave it to Taka to make things extra embarrassing, but it was worth it.