#it's also a higher level than me. i SHOULD just leave it until later but i want the spirit resistance before cotj

[danielnelsen]

well. this arcane horror was giving me a LOT of trouble until i remembered that enemies dont fight back if you're far enough away

[aritany]

what's the origin story for dgdss? if you don't mind 🥺

oho! well. as it happens, i love telling this story.

if you want to know how my childhood best friend writing a short story about me ended up leading to me getting a big 5 book deal, read on.

tw for reference to self harm and some...... unpleasant commentary (not mine) about it later on, folks.

so.

i was homeschooled until my very last year of high school (yes, like mean girls, except my mean girl dominated the first 15 years of my life and that last year was just blissfully chill) and like many homeschooled children, i was a part of a co-op.

cool, right? it's like School Lite™ where you put a group of feral children in a classroom, except you're all varying ages and grade levels, and also, nobody in the room is an accredited teacher, and nobody seems to have an issue with this.

my mom and her mom were best friends, and we were born around the same time, so naturally, we were best friends too from birth, and we were part of the same co-op all through my elementary and junior high school years.

anyway. i won't air all of the dirty laundry regarding our early friendship, because the whole book deal thing doesn't touch it, and i also think there's no need to be pointing out the behaviour of an Actual Child in retrospect. all you need to know is that we were best friends, our relationship was fraught, and by the time we hit 12-13 it was to the degree that people started telling me, hey man, this is Very Strange Behaviour and You Might Be A Victim, and i had to go do some introspection.

the introspection led to the general conclusion oh shit, but we stayed friends, because obviously. when you're 13, breaking up with a best friend is literally The End of the world, and anyway, there was a lot of good in there too, right?

right?

anyway, things took a turn when we were about 14. i struggled heavily with mental illness and self harm as a closeted religious teenager (who'da thunk?) and i confided in her about a small fraction of what was going on, because she was my best friend. i didn't tell her details, because even then i knew what i was experiencing was heavier than was probably appropriate to burden another kid with (and i stand by it!), but she knew the gist.

several Tense moments resulted, one of which was the day she pointed out self harm scarring in front of other people and asked me what happened, ran away, and refused to talk further about it, so i had to talk to her mom, who told me i should apologize to her, considering my mental health struggle had been so difficult... for her.

yeah, you know the type of people we're dealing with, here.

she was determined to undermine me in front of our mutual friends. anything to make me look worse, in one way or another. anything to step just a little higher. if i was interested in something, here's a public dissertation on why it's a dumb thing to be interested in. if i had a crush, forget keeping it a secret, and forget the notion that it's normal, because it's not, it's stupid, and shallow to have a crush in the first place. if we had a similar interest, here's a dressing down about how all i ever do is steal the things she likes (even if i liked them first).

needless to say, by the time the whole deal with the short story is going down a few short years later, we're on the rocks.

let me set the scene. we hadn't seen each other in several months, due to the On The Rocks of it all, and were meeting up for coffee while our moms were also getting coffee. hashtag classic homeschooled behavior, etc.

we're catching up, and she tells me she needs to apologize for something. i am, as you might imagine, agog, considering the rarity of apologies from this girl. she tells me she wrote a short story and submitted it to her university journal to be published, and that in hindsight she thinks she should have asked for my permission first.

i am, obviously, suspicious. to her credit, she gives it to me to read through and then leaves to go do christmas shopping. it's a muddy-ish faux-deep piece about a narrator who has a best friend struggling with mental illness and self harm.

(oh, you might say. to which i say, yeeeeah.)

in the story, the narrator depicts the struggle of trying to care about somebody who is in pain, referring to the best friend as 'cariad' the whole way through, which is just so weird i'm not even going to touch on it. google it if you'd like. the line that i still remember (and will probably remember until the day i die) is the one where she describes her cariad as feeling the need to use a razor as a microphone.

i honestly don't recall what i said when she eventually came back, but i contained all of the aggression of a piece of pocket lint at the time, so i imagine it was along the lines of oh. yeah, okay. [insert image of the saddest wettest cat you've ever seen]

i never saw her again. we went our separate ways, and that was that. we never talked about it.

(the one upside of it was that my mom, with whom i have a Notoriously Contentious relationship, was outraged on my behalf. that was the first (in many years) and last (ever) time we were on the same side of a battle, so, you know. silver linings.)

but the real indignity of it to me was that my friend never really knew. i never really told her about what was happening in my head. she never knew why i was hurting myself, or how bad it got, because i did everything i could to keep that to myself, and at the end of the day, she thought it was all for attention to the degree she wrote a transparently biographical account of it and chose razor as a microphone as a phrase on purpose.

dead girls started as a way to process the complicated feelings i had about that friendship and then obviously ultimately became a whole different creature in the process. i wanted to write about how it felt to go through that never having had another close friendship to compare it to, and how confusing and nauseating it was to have other people point out shitty behaviour.

it became about healing when you can't get closure. how do you move on when you'll never know why somebody hurt you?

nothing that happens in the book is based on real life events between us, partly because i'm not a hypocrite, and partly because if your work can be traced back to your personal experiences, perhaps you should do what you can to be kind.

'my julia,' as i like to call her (she is not named julia, because, oh my god) is nothing like julia hoskins in appearance or general personality. but the way she made me feel? oh, that's all there. nora feels it the way i felt it.

i wrote dead girls back in 2020, and got agented with it in 3 weeks of sending my first query. we got a book deal for it with a penguin random house imprint 1 year later to the day, and next week it's going to be out in the world, and i'm not going to lie, it feels really damn good.

also, her short story got rejected by her university, because it was bad. so you might lose some, but you win some, too.

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 2 - Against Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 1 - Shadow of Doubt - Part 2

Agenor

Later, we were gathered for lunch. I sat in the large room of the first level of the hull, on one of the benches that surrounded the room. Others sat around on the benches, the floor or any solid object they could place their asses on. Nyx was occupied, filling the wooden plates, while Yeagar was assigned to help him serve. Baril finished bringing the food he prepared.

So he stood there, surveying the distributed portions and glaring at everyone like he wished they'd hurry and die to spare him the effort of feeding them. It goes without saying that the first one who was served was me. And, of course, the second was Ajax, Yeagar's younger brother. The bulky man thanked his big bro with one sharp nod and started eating immediately.

"Hey," Nash yelled at them. "How come he gets to be served first?"

Yeagar raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"Any suggestions, Nash?"

"Aye, plenty. First, after the Captain, you will serve ME. Know your place pirate."

Yeagar glanced at his brother, both of them trying to hide a devious smile. Then he answered as he went back to grab the plates from Nyx and hand them to others, none for Nash though.

"I thought after the Captain, Ace would be next. Don't you think?"

Nash stiffened at that and Ajax went to push the knife further into the wound.

"Aye. If you want to be second one day, you should work harder, Nash."

"Huh. That day might come faster than you could imagine," Nash spoke while eyeing Ace who, like always, ate silently.

It's no secret that Nash wanted to be second on the Martina. It's probably the most known fact about this crew. But Nash was not Ace. Hell, he wasn't even close to taking his place. He might be in competition with Lou. Aye, Lou would make a fine second in command, he'd even make a good Captain one day if he decides to leave the Martina.

But here, I preferred Ace much better than anyone else. He was more than just a crewmember. We go way back and he's best at understanding me and following my orders, there's no doubt about that. IF friendship existed in our world, he'd definitely a very good one. Although pirates can never be real friends, the concept is distorted and relationships are always built based on benefits.

'Then again, if there could be love for a pirate, why not friendship? I recently came to the meaning of love.'

I eyed Nyx who was working silently.

'Aye, I came to know what love is. But I can't put it into words, maybe it was the feeling for someone you own, someone you can control and do whatever you want with but also you'd get the urge to please him and see him smile, you want him to be under your care, nicely protected and in arm's reach every second, he'd challenge you sometimes making life much more interesting but he would never disrespect you.'

I thought about that for another second....

'Aye, That's what's called love. But it seems that once there's love, you don't just own, you are also owned. A fact that I've learned the hard way.'

My thoughts trailed to a certain night when Nyx got drunk and my ass remembered the hurtful feeling. I shook my head mentally, when Maren interfered.

"Even if we follow that order here, after the Captain, I should be the next served. I'm the Captain's trustee. And, take all possible offense from my words by the way, I am higher than all of you. I'm in control of the mast, therefore I am more important..."

"Huh? Whatever you say windy, the only thing you're better at is your imagination," Nash interrupted Maren and before he could answer, we heard a protest.

"Meat. Where's the meat?"

I look at Armpits who spoke the second he was served.

"Everyone's got the same amount. Just stuff your face and shut it," Baril barked at him and Armpits finally found a tiny piece of dried salted meat, he immediately grimaced and whined...

"Me Gods, this thing is thinner than a needle."

"And it will be this way until we reach land. You pit-holes keep eating and asking for more and you forget about tomorrow. Be glad we still have some beans."

Baril stopped talking when Nyx handed him a plate, served with a smile. He glared at Armpits then started gulping the food in. Tren hurried to snatch a plate from Yeagar's hand ignoring his snarl. Well, Tren always made sure to eat a random plate, otherwise, if the plate was intended for him he'd accuse Baril of wanting to poison him. And Baril never even tried to deny that. Armpits peaked on Jay's plate above his shoulder.

"Hey, I'll take those herbs if you don't like them."

"I don't like them but I'm eating them. I'm not giving you my food."

Armpits kneeled closer and Jay shoved him back.

"Fuck. THAT'S IT. Don't get close when I'm fucking chewing. Go away."

"The Fuck, Jay?"

"That's all you're getting since you went back to smelling like a foul corpse."

Baril, who finished his food, threw in a comment before exiting...

"Aye, if we throw you into the sea it might spit you back on the deck. That's how much you fuckin smell."

Armpits looked unaffected and went back to licking his plate. But Jay wasn't finished.

"Maybe you should learn from Nyx a bit. See? He's always clean and he smells nice."

'Smells nice?'

I almost choked at that.

'When the fuck did he smell him?'

Nyx completely ignored them, he was used to their ranting by now.

"Sounds good. Hey Nyx, will you clean me?"

Everyone exploded laughing at that, especially when Nyx frowned then tried to cover it. Yeah, worse idea ever. The closest Nyx is getting to Armpits is when he'll throw up on him. But like always, Nyx had to be 'courteous' with his answer.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I think it's a wonderful idea. That's it, after lunch, you're cleaning me."

Nyx looked like he wanted to cry it made me laugh. And that's when Baril joined us again, bringing Nyx's plate with him, the one that Nyx always hid somewhere in the storage room. And Baril went to serve him his lunch.

"Here, go eat. I'll finish feeding the last assholes."

Nyx sat at the end of the bench and Whale, who already finished his lunch, came to sit on the floor beside him with his empty plate in his hand.

"You watch and see fuckers. I'm gonna become the cleanest of you all," Armpits kept dreaming about a new 'clean' life.

Even if Nyx tried, I don't think he could do much though. Unless he skinned him. That's the only way you'd get a smell-free Armpits.

"I could give you some pointers. But you should do it yourself. How else will you learn, Mern?"

Nice escape. Armpits looked like he was considering that, before his colorful teeth drew in a wide smile.

"Aye, we do that."

Jay scoffed and shook his head in surrender.

"Me Gods, the only thing that smells stronger than your filth is your stupidity."

Everyone laughed but Armpits ignored them and went to sneak around the cauldrons pretending he was helping when we all knew he wanted to lick them.

"Hey. Why are you feeding that thing?" Maren pointed at whale and questioned Nyx who shrugged and went to place another spoon of beans on the whale's plate.

"Hey. Stop doing that."

"It's fine Maren."

"No it's not. You're being unfair."

"Really, Maren? Now you're saying pirates are fair?"

I chuckled at that. Nyx was polite and weak but not stupid.

"Well.... At least you should consider friends first, like ME. If you want to give your food away, I can definitely help you with that."

"I just think it's unfair for Britt to get the same amount as the rest of us. I don't know but bigger people need more food, don't you think?" Nyx said and then he tilted his head to look at whale.

"No offense Britt."

The big thing just nodded. Of course he wouldn't take offense, the animal was leaching off Nyx. Armpits laughed at whale.

"Huh, thank the Goddess Baril doesn't think the way you do. Or else I'd be left with nothing but one bean."

We laughed at that but Maren wasn't finished...

"You shouldn't get him used to that though. If one day you decide to eat your whole meal, then he'll eat YOU."

Nyx rolled his eyes and went back to eating. And without being seen by him, Whale grinned and gave both Maren and Armpits the finger. Armpits put the cauldron that he was carrying away, almost dropping it.

"Oh yeah. Well FUCK YOU WHALE."

Then he went to fondle with his pants. See, normal people, even pirates, flip each other off all the time. It's like a nod or a handshake, nothing to worry about. Armpits, on the other hand, he'd pull out the real thing. He used to drop his pants and send back foul names at whoever tells him to fuck off. It was like that until one day, his prick accidentally touched Yeagar. The pirate went berserk and even his brother Ajax couldn't stop him.

I actually had to interfere personally to stop him from chopping Armpit's pecker off. Don't get me wrong, I actually thought the cockroach deserved it. But I didn't want that thing dropped on my deck, it would bring herds of bad spirits to the Martina. Luckily, for Nyx mostly, this time Jay managed to stop Armpits and we all got to keep the shit we ate in our stomachs. My sweet lover went back to the galley after that and I haven't seen him for about three hours.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

It’s been an interesting week, it’s just felt off for some reason. I think part of it is having our new pup — Cocoa — in the house and part of it is work.

Ever since our layoff things haven’t felt the same, because frankly, they’re not. Our company structure has changed and we’re still adapting and moving thing around. It feels way more corporate than ever but I suppose that happens when you get beyond a couple hundred people. We’re near one thousand, even after the layoff.

After the project I’m working on comes to a close at the end of July I’m hoping to get a little bench time to work on my SwiftUI (worst technology name ever) skills and shake the cobwebs out of the old programmer brain. 🧠

Ashur Cabrera

We’re giving ourselves the weekend to rest, then Phase 2 kicks off Monday when we start working on paperwork and logistics to pack a few bags, our pup, and try our luck at spending the next few years abroad. (More on this later in the summer ☺️)

Ashur is a friend, all around great fella, and very talented web developer. He’s even contributed his amazing web talent to Stream and I’m forever grateful for it.

Anywho, I’m so excited for him and this new adventure. Doing it while you’re young is the right call. Do it while your body can take it. Get out, explore!

I still hope to convince Kim we need to go all in on the RV lifestyle. Still not there yet. Maybe someday.

Enjoy this new adventure Ashur! 🧳

Joel Clay �� blog.meldstudio.co

It is also what backs a number of the Swift concurrency primitives – with a cross platform, open source implementation of CoreFoundation released as the backing implementation. That source code is invaluable in gaining a better understanding of how CFRunLoop works. At just under 5k lines of quite readable C code, one could grok it at a high level in a few hours.

If you know me you know I love browsing C and C++ code. The thing I find extremely interesting about this code is how many OS’es it is targeted to run on; macOS, Windows, and Linux.

Makes me wonder who’s writing code against those platforms and how the new all Swift based frameworks work on those platforms.

This article takes a deep dive into CFRunLoop and it’s a good read if you’re into C code. 😃

NBC News

The Supreme Court issued a divided ruling on a pair of challenges to affirmative action policies at Harvard and the University of North Carolina, with potential implications across higher education and beyond.

The Republican built court is doing its job dismantling years and years of progress. They’ve already set Women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and now affirmative action back. What’s next?

Here’s hoping most institutions of higher education don’t change their policies. Just leave that to the rich white racist institutions that take in dumbass rich white kids whose parents buy their way in.

Speaking of dumbass rich white kids…

Daniel Golden • ProPublica

My book exposed a grubby secret of American higher education: that the rich buy their under-achieving children’s way into elite universities with massive, tax-deductible donations.

Screw Harvard and the entire Ivy League. As a nation we need to get our belief that going to one of those schools magically makes you smarter or better than everyone else. They cater to the rich and powerful who can afford to buy their way in, like Jared Kishner’s dad did for him. It’s all about keeping the rich and powerful in power.

Sure, turn away the dark skinned people with great grades and SAT scores and let the idiots in.

I’m sure there are many other schools doing the same thing and they should all be shamed.

The question is how to stop it?

Doc Searles

For almost the whole time I wrote at the old blog, the URL doc.searls.com took you there as a redirect. Now that URL goes here, directly. Put another way, this was a Harvard blog until yesterday (and again, everything until that day remains so: that’s its legacy). From now on, it’s mine alone. It has crossed from one state to another. I’m not sure yet how it will change, if at all. But I feel energized about what new things I might do with it.

Speaking of Harvard, it sounds like they’ve shut down and archived a bunch of blogs and their associated blogging tools. I’d venture to guess the tools they were using were long in the tooth, not well maintained, and a security risk, but I could be completely wrong about that! 😆

It’s nice to see Doc in his new home. I just need to remember to subscribe to the new site.

Keaton Brandt

Instead, I think it’s safe to say it’s largely Apple’s fault. Or, maybe “fault” is the wrong word. We’ve moved on from the era of beautiful Mac software to the era of web-based apps, for better and for worse. There’s no one simple reason for this evolution, but it’s interesting to think through some of the factors.

This piece goes to all kinds of interesting places. I think the bottom line is Apple is running Microsoft’s playbook from the late 90’s when the web was taking off and they were desperately trying to keep folks tied into their OS and tools.

Eventually Microsoft got their act together and found their way into web technologies. Heck, they even went as far as scrapping their own home built browser for Chromium, but that’s another story I’m very opinionated about.

Jay Barmann • sfist.com

This is very sad. HRD Coffee Shop (521A Third Street), which has seen two generations of owners in SoMa/South Beach and became so well known for its fusion-style burritos and Mongolian beef cheesesteak a decade ago that they were paid a visit by Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives in 2010, closed for good on Friday, June 23. The restaurant had just celebrated its 70th birthday this year.

This was one of the places on my “need to eat there someday” list and it’s a real shame to see it close down. I really wanted to try their spicy pork and kimchi burrito. Guess that ain’t gonna happen now. 😔

Pieter Hintjens

It’s one of my interview questions: “what is Good Code?” Surprisingly, almost no-one gets it right. It’s not about speed, elegance, language, or style. Good Code is code that solves real problems for real people, in an effective way. Let me list the top 10 rules for writing good code.

I enjoy reading how others approach coding. I’m constantly hearing the term “best practices” and makes me cringe a little.

I don’t agree with Pieter’s number zero rule: Use Git and Github. I know git is super popular and I use it and GitHub every day, but it’s not the only version control system on the planet and there are others that work just fine. The advice I’ve always given folks is pick a version control system and use it.

GitHub is, of course, a very good choice. 😃

[David Pierce • The Verge](<https://www.theverge.com/23778253/google-reader-death-2013-rss-social)

To executives, Google Reader may have seemed like a humble feed aggregator built on boring technology. But for users, it was a way of organizing the internet, for making sense of the web, for collecting all the things you care about no matter its location or type, and helping you make the most of it.

I remember how down my brother was when Google shut down Reader. He had a really nice workflow and could navigate Reader with his keyboard. It also had some very unique to Reader features he made good use of. I don’t remember what they were but I should ask him. If they’re unique perhaps Stream could benefit from implementing some? 🤔

Jason Kottke

When you write some code and put it on a spacecraft headed into the far reaches of space, you need to it work, no matter what. Mistakes can mean loss of mission or even loss of life. In 2006, Gerard Holzmann of the NASA/JPL Laboratory for Reliable Software wrote a paper called The Power of 10: Rules for Developing Safety-Critical Code. The rules focus on testability, readability, and predictability:

I’ve heard about these rules before and they’re no bad at all, especially for smaller, self contained programs. Anything mission critical should be extra safe in its implementation.

Remember when the Mars Lander crashed because the teams used different measurement systems? It only cost $125 million to build. Good times. 💥

Jack Gutzler • beyondtheflag.com

As NASCAR descends upon the streets of Chicago for the inaugural race at the new Chicago Street Course, a new chapter in the sport’s 75-year history will be written.

Since getting into NASCAR I’ve had this one marked on my calendar and wish I could’ve attended it. I’ve never been to Chicago or a NASCAR race, why not get a twofer?

I’ll be watching it from the safety of my own living room this time around. 🛋️

Manton Reece

Meta adopting ActivityPub has the potential to fast-forward the progress of the social web by years. Ever since I grew disillusioned with Twitter a decade ago and started pushing for indie microblogs, then writing a book about social networks and founding Micro.blog, I could only dream of a moment where a massive tech company embraced such a fundamental open API.

I’ve been trying to keep my nose out of the discussions around this on Mastodon. Opinions vary, of course, and some folks are very angry about the whole thing. It mostly boils down to folks in marginalized and discriminated against groups who made their homes on Mastodon being afraid. They don’t want to have to deal with the hate that will come along with an extremely popular, large, instance. I can’t say that I blame them.

I’m hopeful this will all work out and won’t divide the community.🕊️

[chemicalpink]

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub​ monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

[heyiwrotesomethings]

How Not to Form a Thruple

Sayaka Igarashi x She/Her Reader x Kirari Momobami

A/N: Oh my god this took forever to do. There are just so many factors to consider when trying to make this work and I did not want this to turn into a novel and yet it's still sooo much. Anyway, much love to Sayaka and Kirari but they don’t know how their own relationship works without trying to date another person at the same time. Ririka is suffering, but at least she has Mary. Sorry if there are more errors than usual I had to deal with a cat menace. Also beware of Midari in this fic, you know how she is. And the OC I made isn’t very helpful either. Word Count: 18,395 (Why did I do this to myself?)

~

(Y/n) sighed and slouched in her seat at the back of the classroom, her eyes followed the form of Igarashi Sayaka taking her seat in the front of the room with her arms full of papers and folders. Her bag, looking just as heavy as the load in her arms, had the shoulder strap strained over the desk hook.

“Ugh, you really are hopeless, you know that?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head, meeting her friend’s eyes just in time to see them roll to the side.

“You’re looking at Igarashi with those dumb puppy eyes again. We’re well into our second year of high school now, shouldn’t you be over her by now? Or, here’s an idea, ask her out.” Tsubasa advised, pretending to be scandalized by their own suggestion.

“Don’t talk so loud!” (Y/n) hissed, quickly looking to see if anyone, especially Sayaka, had heard.

“The whole classroom is practically screaming about gambling and homework (Y/n), no one’s listening to us. Especially not Miss Workaholic over there. So, what’s the deal? When are you gonna finally make a move?”

“Are you crazy? There will be no move making from now until the end of time!” (Y/n) gestured wildly, emphasizing the word ‘now’ and the phrase, ‘the end of time’. “She obviously likes the president... and like is putting it mildly, there is no way I’m going to embarrass myself like that. I mean, when it comes to the president I can’t possibly compete. She’s too beautiful and suave, no wonder Igarashi wants to spend so much time with her.” (Y/n) sighed wistfully and slid further down her chair, openly sulking.

“Sounds to me like you’re simping double time these days, (Y/n).” Tsubasa snickered and kicked at (Y/n)’s foot with their own, producing a muffled groan from the girl who had since buried her head in her arms over her desk.

“You look at the girls in this school and tell me you can’t find easily like, ten of them that you’d immediately give your kidney to if they asked.” (Y/n) grumbled.

“Nah I’m good thanks, I’d like to keep my kidneys as a matched set if I can help it.” They leaned back in their chair and stretched. “Class is starting soon, better get your act together before you get called on and embarrass yourself in front of Igarashi.”

“God that would happen to me wouldn’t it?” (Y/n) sat up and opened her notebook for her first class, scanning the most recent notes with a critical eye.

“Hey, before you get too lost in that boring stuff I wanted to ask you if you heard about the gamble that’s taking over Yumemite’s stage during lunch.”

“I haven’t heard anything. What does Yumemite-san have to say about this? Didn’t she have a concert scheduled at that time?”

“You would know that wouldn’t you, simp.” Tsubasa laughed, poking (Y/n). “She’s sick or something so someone snatched up the stage for the day and they even got permission to broadcast to the whole school. Anyone can come by to gamble and the last person standing gets ten million yen!”

“What’s the catch? There always is one with these no admittance fee gambles.”

“Loser has to do one thing the winner asks each round. Something that can be done right then and there on camera to be broadcasted to the school. What do you think? Will you do it with me?” They grinned.

“Be humiliated in front of the whole school? No thanks, think I’ll pass.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. We could split the money fifty-fifty if one of us wins. What’s the worst request someone could demand of you if you lose?”

“Uh, have you been paying attention in this school?” (Y/n) looked up from her notebook, “A person having the power over you to make you do something for them is almost always worse then owing money. They could tell you to strip or rip your nails off— all sorts of crazy things!”

“I guess I could have been more clear. The winner just asks a question to the loser and they have to answer it honestly.”

“Wait, you’re telling me this is just going to be truth or dare without the dare?” (Y/n) looked at them incredulously. “I know I was complaining before but how is something so boring being broadcasted to the whole school?”

“Beats me, but really, the deal is a lot sweeter now, don’t you think, partner?” Tsubasa batted their eyelashes and (Y/n) lightly punched their shoulder.

“Alright, I’m in.”

***

“Never mind I’m not in!” (Y/n) trembled at the sight before her. The stage was filled with all sorts of creepy crawlies and dangerous looking animals in various enclosures. She made to leave but her friend grasped her arm and pulled her back.

“Too late to pull out (Y/n), I already signed us up!” They smiled brightly as if completely unaffected by the scene before them.

“Did you know about this?” (Y/n) asked, her throat tightening with equal parts anger and anxiety. “This isn’t truth or dare without the dare, it’s like, dare with a light suggestion of truth!”

“I know right? This is gonna be awesome!” Tsubasa grinned.

“Did Ikishima take over your body or something? What the hell is wrong with you!?” (Y/n) chastised through clenched teeth.

“Shhhh, I think the organizer is about to get things started. Don’t think about the risk, think about how awesome it’s gonna be when we win ten million yen! Five mil each!”

“If the more affluent students heard you getting excited over five million yen they would laugh you out of the school.” (Y/n) mumbled, rubbing at her temples to try to fight the oncoming headache she was starting to feel.

“Wow, a lot more of you showed up than I thought you would!” A voice called from the stage, crazy familiar laughter rolled over the auditorium.

“Ikishima actually organized this? Why am I not surprised?” (Y/n) sighed.

“Okay so a handful of you...” Ikishima scratched her head with her gun as she looked around the room. To (Y/n) surprise, the crazy girl suddenly fell to her knees with a cry of anguish. “Yumeko didn’t come? But I invited her directly! How could she stay away from such a gamble when I worked so hard to procure all this shit!” She moaned mournfully and motioned towards all the animal enclosures.

“Uh, so are we doing this thing or...?” Another student called out after watching Midari spread out on the stage floor and sulk for a hot minute.

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second...” Midari sighed despondently. “Yumeko,” she began, looking to the ceiling, “I made this all for you, enjoy the show... I know you’re watching!”

(Yumeko was in fact, not watching.)

“Alright, listen up everybody!” Midari jumped back onto her feet, her gun tracing over every face in the front couple rows of the auditorium. “Ya ever hear of Fear Factor? Well that’s what we’re doing except not really. Basically, I’ll have you face off one v one. You each get to pick an animal you’d like your opponent to get all close and personal with, the first person to bail loses and if neither bails after five minutes, then the person with the highest heart rate loses. We’ll be monitoring your heart rates with these little wrist monitors to keep you honest. If your heart rate continually spikes higher than the other person, we’ll know and you’ll be out of the competition, not before you let out a truth of the victor’s choosing of course.” Midari smiled wickedly and gestured to the giant screen behind her. “Here is our bracket, let the games begin!”

(Y/n) scanned over the names and was jostled by Tsubasa slinging an arm over her shoulders.

“Look at that, (Y/n). We’re on opposite side of the bracket, I’m liking our odds!”

“Yeah, great.” (Y/n) whined and slowly made her way to the stage. Her name was right at the top of the bracket signaling she would be in the first match.

“Go (Y/n)!” Tsubasa cheered.

(Y/n) grimaced as Midari fixed the cold heart monitoring device to her wrist and another beautification officer hooked up her opponent who smirked once (Y/n) met his gaze.

“Coin flip decides who picks first. (L/n), heads or tails?” Ikishima asked, her breath sticking to (Y/n)’s cheek because of how close she was.

“Heads.” (Y/n) chose. Midari flipped the coin and revealed heads.

“Lucky you!” Midari cackled, “Choose carefully because once an animal is chosen, it will be retired for the remainder of the gamble!”

“I’ll pick the tarantula.” (Y/n) declared, suppressing a shudder. At least now she knew it wouldn’t be able to be used against her later.

“Ahh tarantula-san eyy?” Midari giggled. “I love it, nice choice! And you?” Midari turned to address the other student.

He appeared to be sweating ever so slightly but his smirk didn’t leave his face. “I’ll pick that huge ass snake.”

“Boa-san? Hell yeah!” Midari cackled, looking all too pleased with how this was going. “Handlers, bring out the chosen animals!”

“Hold your arms out, kind of like a cradle please.” The handler asked (Y/n). She had just nearly put her arms in position before the handler looped the middle of the large constrictor around her neck. The upper half of the large snake began coiling around her arm as (Y/n) struggled to hold the heavy reptile.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at her competition who appeared to be holding his breath as the tarantula crawled across his pant leg. He was sitting on the stage, something about lessening the risk to the spider should the boy freak out. (Y/n) gulped as her attention was brought back to the snake. It had raised its head to be level with her own and scented the air between their faces before slithering up and over her head and it began its descent down her back.

“Hey!” (Y/n)’s eyes darted back to the boy who looked noticeably more panicked. “It’s crawling toward my junk!” He screamed as the spider slowly made its way over his thigh.

“So?” Midari shrugged, “What, you gonna bail already? It hasn’t even been two minutes.”

“Get it off me now!” His voice pitched higher, the spider had momentarily lost its grip and slid closer to the boy’s crotch. “Take it, take it!”

“Alright, you big baby.” Midari waved him off signaling the handler to take the spider. “Round one goes to you, (L/n). Sazanka class, represent!”

(Y/n) released a relieved sigh as the weight of the boa was lifted from her shoulders. She massaged her shoulder and almost left the stage before Midari called her back.

“Hey, don’t forget your question!”

“Ah, right, sorry. Umm, what’s your favorite color?” (Y/n) could heard the faint echo of Tsubasa smacking their forehead with their hand in the darkened auditorium and Midari groaned.

“That’s what you’re asking? That’s so god damn boring!” Midari sprawled out on the floor again. “Well shit, answer (L/n)’s boring ass question I guess.”

“It’s green.” The guy breathed, thankful for the low stakes question after his embarrassing screeching over the tarantula.

“Alright, who’s next?”

***

The final round was finally here. (Y/n) had survived a hand full of banana slugs and holding up a adolescent fox bat by its feet before finally making it to the last round with Tsubasa bouncing excitedly as her final opponent. They had made it, no matter what happens now the ten million was as good as theirs.

“Alright! Here we are with the last match! Only a handful of creatures left, what will be used I wonder...” Midari pondered. “Heads or tails, (L/n)?”

“I’ll go heads again.”

The coin flipped in her favor once more and she smiled at her friend. “I know you’ve been eyeing that iguana over there, go make a new friend.”

“I really appreciate that, (Y/n).” Tsubasa simpered. “However,” the sweet smile turned sinister, “Just because we made it to the end, doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes darkened at the betrayal, her mouth twitched into a frown aimed at her unbothered so called friend. Sweat gathered at her brow. Were they going to pick the literal grizzly bear over there? Or maybe even worse, the—

“I pick the octopus.”

“No way!” (Y/n) gasped.

“Uehehehe, I see you recognize the coloration of octopus-san, don’t you (L/n)?” Midari leered over the other girl.

“Yeah, that’s a blue ringed octopus isn’t it? Those things can kill you and you expect me to hold it?” (Y/n) threw her arms out wide in disbelief.

“I had it brought here for Yumeko, but I’m glad someone is going to play with octopus-san.” Ikishima practically moaned. “Well, (L/n) are you gonna hold it or bail?”

“Of course I-“

“(Y/n), before you answer that question,” Tsubasa whispered, “You should know I’m planning on asking a really good question should I win. You know, related to who we were talking about this morning.”

“You wouldn’t-“ (Y/n) gasped.

“Try me.”

“I give you the iguana and this is how you repay me! I could literally die!” (Y/n)’s heart was absolutely pounding. Hurt and betrayal plain on her features.

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell you guys are going on about, but we are broadcasting live to the school and you have a decision to make. (L/n), whatcha gonna do?” Midari pushed.

“I...” (Y/n) took a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze drifted to the deadly cephalopod. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to quiet the wild thrumming of her heart in her ears. This was dangerous and stupid, but she’d sooner die than lose and answer that query truthfully. “I’ll do it.”

“For real (Y/n)? Are you crazy-“

“I love what you’re doing here (L/n)!” Ikishima interrupted (Y/n)’s gambling partner with a wheezy laugh. “If I didn’t already have the hots for Yumeko, I’d jump your bones right now!”

(Y/n) grimaced at the vulgar girl and made her way to the octopus’ enclosure, the vivid blue rings hypnotic in the shallow waters of the tank.

The octopus itself was small, no bigger than the palm of her hand, yet she knew that size would hardly matter, it could still easily kill a grown man twice her size.

(y/n) breathed in deeply and pulled up her sleeve, her hand just barely skimmed the water when her supposed friend spoke up.

“(Y/n) you don’t have to do this. You seriously would rather die than talk about your feelings?”

(Y/n)’s steely gaze met her partner who was nervously stroking the iguana in their arms and her frown deepened.

“Use my half of the ten million to pay for my medical bills and or my funeral.” She spoke coldly, carefully sliding her hand all the way into the tank. She would have just plunged her hand right in, but she really didn’t feel like dying today if she could help it. Please god, give me the luck of that one idiot I saw holding one of these things on social media.

Slowly, she nudged the creature into her hand and raised it up a bit so Ikishima could clearly see her dangerous skinship with the octopus. The one-eyed girl let out a delighted squeal but (Y/n) could not hear it over the pounding of her own heart. The tentacles of the venomous creature curled over her hand as if searching, maybe for the best place to bite (Y/n) thought wryly. It began crawling up her wrist and settled on her forearm. (Y/n) felt faint and she could feel the sweat roll off her in buckets, having the octopus sit still was almost worse than it moving.

“How’s it feel, (Y/n)? I can call you (Y/n) now, right? We’re kindred spirits you and I after all. How does it feel knowing you’re one little bite away from almost certain death? It’s great isn’t it?” Ikishima moaned grossly in (Y/n)’s ear and (Y/n) grit her teeth, her jaw tightened painfully. She did not dare pay attention to Ikishima, her eyes belonged only to the small mass now writhing in the crook of her elbow.

A loud buzz shot (Y/n) out of her concentrated state, causing her to move suddenly and offset the balance of the octopus. (Y/n) yelped  in response to the octopus’ renewed hold over her that was much tighter than before. Did it just bite me?

“Five minutes is up! Guess we have to refer to heart monitors for the winner. Though judging by (Y/n)’s face, her heart rate will probably be nonexistent soon!” Midari laughed and motioned to the big screen. The computer scanned over the last two competitors heart rates over the last five minutes and compared the data. It was quickly determined that (Y/n)‘s heart rate was much higher than her opponent’s, making her the loser of this gamble.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and hung her head in shame, if the octopus did bite her, she didn’t have it in her to care. Her life would be over soon anyway once she answered the victor’s question.

“Wait a minute... what the hell is wrong with octopus-san?” Midari screeched, bringing (Y/n) back into the moment.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open to look at the octopus and she was surprised to see it had changed color to match that of her skin tone.

“But, blue ringed octopuses don’t change color so dramatically as this? What... this isn’t...” (Y/n) could hardly believe it. The small octopus on her arm wasn’t the deadly Australian native, but a mimic, and a talented one at that.

“Hey you! What the fuck is this!” Ikishima berated the nearest handler, gesturing to the tank with her gun.

“A mimic octopus, ma’am. This little baby has a tank adjacent to a real blue ringed octopus and the clever boy just loves to copy the colors. Intelligent little guy, isn’t he?”

“Well, yeah,” Midari huffed, “but I asked for blue ringed octopus-san!”

“We didn’t want anyone to be hurt. We figured you wouldn’t mind as long as you got an octopus.” The handler smiled tightly. God these rich kids are crazy.

(Y/n) managed to free herself from the mimic and withdraw from the tank. She rubbed her arm and watched the small octopus change color again to match the the sand in its tank. She felt so foolish, all her fear had been misplaced and now- she turned to Tsubasa, now iguanaless, and stepped forward.

“Well that was hella disappointing. What’s-your-face gets to ask their question now.” Midari sighed, clearly disinterested. “If I wasn’t so impulsive and hadn’t put this thing together last minute, I would’ve made much better punishments for the losers.”

“(Y/n), please don’t let this ruin our friendship. I only want what is best for you.” Tsubasa rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.

“If you didn’t want to do that, you’d pick another damn question. Just ask already.” (Y/n) snapped.

“Who have you had a crush on since middle school who you still like to this day?” They asked almost sympathetically. (Y/n) wanted to slap that awkward smile right off their face.

“Igarashi Sayaka.” (Y/n) answered clearly so as to not have to repeat herself before bolting off the stage, Midari cackling behind her.

“You like that stick in the mud? That’s hilarious!” Midari wheezed from the stage as (Y/n) pushed through auditorium doors with a boom and kept running.

***

(Y/n) should have just skipped school. She was basically doing it anyway since she couldn’t go to class. Not when she was actively avoiding three people in said class. Tsubasa she didn’t want to see for obvious backstabbing reasons, Ikishima because she was being... extra herself towards (Y/n) since the gamble and she didn’t appreciate it, and then of course Sayaka... who knew if she was aware of the gamble or what she’d do if she saw (Y/n). She’d probably tase me, (Y/n) thought glumly.

The last few days (Y/n) had exiled herself to the deepest, darkest depths of the library and didn’t leave until most of the students had gone home for the day. She didn’t need to worry about gambling. Despite not talking to Tsubasa, she saw that her five million that was agreed upon was transferred to her account with an, ‘I’m sorry :( <3‘ attached to it so she was set for awhile in the class rankings.

This day should have been no different as she made her way to the back of the library, but she gasped audibly once she took in the figure perched atop her table seemingly awaiting her arrival. She would have backed away if not for the fact that those icy blue eyes commanded her to stay.

“President!” (Y/n) squeaked. This was it, she was so dead. How foolish of her to think she would be able to get away with admitting her feelings for the secretary of the most powerful person in the school without any repercussions.

The president did not yet speak, but motioned (Y/n) to come closer, the way her glacial eyes bore into (Y/n)’s left no room for argument. (Y/n)’s legs moved slowly, they shook noticeably and she feared she might collapse right in front of the president. Finally she stopped and stood a foot away from the president’s regal pose over the table. (Y/n)’s hands wrung together and she scanned the titles of the nearby bookshelves so she would not have to look her intruder in the eye.

“You’re a surprisingly difficult person to find, (L/n) (Y/n).” Kirari finally spoke, examining her pristine, blue fingernails.

“I,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “I’m sorry?” Her voice trembled, sounding oh so weak in the presence of the apex predator.

“That was quite the show you put on a couple days ago at Ikishima’s event.” Kirari continued, seemingly oblivious of (Y/n) speaking at all. “You turned that drab, mind numbing dullness into something I could tolerate watching with my afternoon tea. Sayaka seemed quite invested as well.” She said, her eyes casually looking up to catch (Y/n)’s again, gauging for a reaction.

(Y/n) didn’t speak for fear of her heart escaping out of the orifice due to how violently it was beating in her chest, in her throat. It was beating so fast it put the whole octopus incident to shame.

“Of course, the novelty of the octopus was shattered as soon as its true nature was revealed, but it was interesting to watch in the moment, sort of like a magic trick, wouldn’t you agree?”

(Y/n) stayed silent, only managing to tear her eyes away from the analyzing blue ones to study her own shoes.

“Sayaka couldn’t believe you would do something so, how did she put it? Irrational? Insane maybe? It escapes me now, but she was muttering to herself in that endearing way she always does when she’s thinking too hard and she just can’t contain her internal monologue.” Kirari’s smile grew a small fraction wider at the memory. “I didn’t see what the problem was. If anything I’d dare say she was being quite hypocritical, given the fact that she had jumped out of a five story building with me not too long ago.”

(Y/n) allowed a look of astonishment to take over her face and Kirari chuckled quietly.

The student council president slid off of the table and approached (Y/n) with confident, purposeful steps, causing (Y/n) to back away until her back hit the bookshelf behind her. Kirari rested an arm on the shelf beside (Y/n)’s head and leaned so far into her personal space that (Y/n) dared not breathe.

“Maybe you would like to give it a try?”

(Y/n)’s lips trembled, still unable to so much as make a sound. Her eyes were trapped by the icy, oceanic gaze mere inches away from her.

“No need to be so tense, it was just a suggestion. I know you are capable of speaking. What must I do to make this a two way conversation?”

“I-“ (Y/n) attempted to clear her throat, taking in a shaky breath, “I- what do you want me to say, president? Why are you here?”

“You’ve caught my interest.” She stated plainly, “To risk your life all to avoid answering a simple question of little consequence. Tell me, are you embarrassed to like my secretary so much? Do you find such feelings disgraceful, or is it because it’s Sayaka?”

“No! No. That’s not it at all, I just- I’m not embarrassed about how I feel. Igarashi-san is amazing. So incredibly dedicated and hardworking, intelligent, pr- pretty,” (Y/n) blushed, “I could never find anything disgraceful about liking someone like her.”

“Why hide it to such a degree, then? Why risk your life to keep it hidden?” Kirari came closer still, drinking in every micro-expression that (Y/n)’s face would betray for clues about the peculiar behavior she was so fascinated by.

“There was just no point in revealing my feelings. They obviously aren’t reciprocated, I didn’t want to make class awkward or ruin the good terms we were on as classmates. If I was to be embarrassed about anything, it would be the idea of receiving a rejection that I was well aware would occur and was trying to avoid.”

“I’d like to propose a gamble.” Kirari said suddenly, (Y/n) could feel the declaration disturb the air around her face, causing a slight tingling sensation that made her lips purse subtly.

“What do you propose, president?” (Y/n) whispered weakly, her back digging almost painfully I to the bookcase, trying fruitlessly to create a semblance of personal space between them. She surprisingly took  in the sudden declaration without question, probably due to how small she felt in Kirari’s presence. She dared not question the president’s seemingly sudden whim.

“A simple game, really. I don’t have time to plan some grand operation unfortunately. Such things are better planned out over the course of several weeks, months or even years. Something Ikishima will likely never learn even after her hastily put together show,” Kirari spoke, digging at the disorganization of the beautification officer while still looming over (Y/n) like it was perfectly acceptable to be so close, “but that’s neither here nor there, the game will be lightning round old maid.”

“What are the stakes?” (Y/n) asked, a hot cold rush ran down her spine as Kirari absently inspected a lock of (Y/n)‘s hair, twining a finger though it before letting the hair slip from her touch. She backed away, finally giving (Y/n) room to breathe.

“If I win, you’ll immediately start going back to your classes and you’ll become a page of sorts to the student council. You’ll be at Sayaka’s beck and call.”

“I don’t think Igarashi-san would care for that. I’m sure she has a very specific way in which she likes things done. I don’t want to be on her bad side more than I probably already am!”

“Sayaka would never say it, but with the added work the election has brought, I’m sure she could find a use for an extra pair of hands.” Kirari smirked, “Now, what would you like if you win?”

“...I guess it would be nice to have some assistance transferring schools?” (Y/n) mumbled after a moment’s thought.

“How practical. You’re about as imaginative as Sayaka I’ll give you that,” Kirari commented, striding to the other side of the table to sit with practiced poise, “well,” she gestured to the chair opposite her, “please take a seat. This won’t take long.”

(Y/n) bit the inside of her lip and sat stiffly in the presented chair. She couldn’t believe she was about to gamble with the president. Such an ‘honor’ was usually reserved for people like Jabami or Ikishima... What did this say about herself, (Y/n) wondered.

Kirari slipped three cards out of her blazer. The queen of diamonds, the queen of hearts, and a joker card. She presented the cards to (Y/n), allowing her to check for any possible tampering. When (Y/n) was satisfied, she gave the cards back with a sight tremor. Kirari reached past the cards, encompassing (Y/n)’s wrist with her hand and drawing out a surprised gasp from the girl. Kirari skimmed her fingers over the exposed skin up to (Y/n)’s own finger tips before finally taking the cards back and shuffling them under the table. All the while (Y/n)’s hand tingled, still suspended mid air until she remembered herself and quickly pulled her hand back to join her other tightly fisted in her lap.

Kirari eyed the cards, newly shuffled, and slid the queen of hearts to (Y/n)’s side of the table. With a reserved smile, she held out the remaining two cards. “Now, which one will you choose I wonder?”

(Y/n) scrutinized the backs of the cards in Kirari’s hand, silently cursing herself for not thinking of marking the cards in some way as she inspected them. Her eyebrows knit and her eyes narrowed in concentration as if that would help give her some sudden clarity, to open up the right choice.

“As much as I’m enjoying this intense look of concentration you are wearing, I do have other obligations that require my attention this afternoon.” Kirari spoke, jolting (Y/n) from her thoughts.

“Sorry!” (Y/n) swallowed and eyed the cards, darting her attention from one to the other at least a dozen times. Finally she sucked in a huge breath and reached for the the one on the right. Then, changing her trajectory at the very last second, she took the card on the left, missing the excited gleam in Kirari’s eyes.

With trembling fingers she flipped the card in her fingers and felt dread as the laughing face of the joker stared back at her.

“Wrong choice I’m afraid, looks like I’ll get a turn after all.” Kirari said.

(Y/n) took her queen and the joker, mixing them under the table until she was satisfied then held them out to Kirari, trying to will her face into impenetrable stone.

Kirari chuckled quietly as she reached out. She teasingly danced her fingers over the cards, gauging for a reaction. (Y/n) looked away from the scene, trying to invoke some kind of ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ strategy. However, (Y/n) felt that she could have no face at all and Kirari would still be able to read her.

Her eyes shot open when she felt the card in her right hand being tugged free, she turned back to the remaining card with an audible gasp. The queen was still in her hand.

“Oh well,” Kirari smiled, “Another chance for you then, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) nodded resolutely, looking between the two cards once more. She took less time to deliberate this go around and took the left card. Incorrect again.

The joker traded hands at least three dozen more times and traded hands quickly. Staying in one hand only long enough to be shuffled and presented to be taken half a second later. (Y/n) found it exhilarating. There was no strategy, no second guessing, just the gamble itself. Taking whatever card they touched first without a care.

The joker had found (Y/n)’s hand again and (Y/n) couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that escaped her lips. Her nervous frown had left rounds ago, replaced by a content smile. If Tsubasa could she her now, smiling and playing a children’s game with arguably the most frightening person in the school, they would lose their mind.

“I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell and are enjoying yourself,” Kirari spoke up, her eyes looking unusually warm. “However the time is quickly approaching for one of my aforementioned engagements so,” (Y/n) blinked owlishly, her mouth falling open ever so slightly. Kirari took the queen out of (Y/n)’s hand as if she knew she could have done so at will at any time and smirked. “I’ll be seeing you bright and early Monday morning to discuss your new duties.”

As Kirari stood and moved around the table to exit (Y/n) kept blinking at the joker in her hands. “Oh, and (Y/n),” Kirari stopped at the bookshelf momentarily and looked back at (Y/n), seeing the surprised girl turning slowly in her seat to look at her. “Do not be late.”

With that, the president took her leave. (Y/n) looked back at the joker and smiled brightly despite herself. She knew once the novelty wore off she was going to be an anxious mess before Monday arrived, but for now, she was ride out the high gambling with the president gave her. She gathered her belongings and left the library and the school, humming pleasantly with a skip in her step all the way home.

***

(Y/n) hadn’t slept more than a combined total of eight hours all weekend. She had worried her weekend away to the point of feeling physically ill. What had she been thinking to entertain such a gamble? Not only did she need to start going back to class, but now she had to report in to the student council as if she were a member herself.

(Y/n) glanced at her phone again, squinting her eyes at the harsh light,  a panicked groan leaving her as she read the time. It was five-thirty in the morning. She had more than enough time to get ready and be at school before the student council meeting began at seven, but the anticipation was killing her.

She was not ready to see Sayaka. She wasn’t ready to sit next to Tsubasa in class again or get hounded by Ikishima. Today was going to be an all out assault on her emotional state.

(Y/n) stood outside the imposing doors of the student council room, the time on her phone displaying that she was fifteen minutes early. (Y/n) worked to control her breathing, willing herself to take deep, even breaths. Before she worked up the courage to enter, the door swung open with air displacing force strong enough to whip some of (Y/n)’s hair askew.

“I’ll retrieve the file president! You needn’t concern yourself with such menial tasks!” Sayaka strode a purposeful half step out of the room and rammed straight into (Y/n)’s chest, causing (Y/n) to stumble back, but not fall.

“What are you- oh,” Sayaka’s angry retort died on her lips as she registered who stood before her. “(L/n)-san, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, good- good morning, Igarashi-san. I’m, um, I’m here to-“ (Y/n) stumbled over her words looking over Sayaka’s head, unable to even look her in the eye as she felt her cheeks grow increasingly warm.

“Ah, (Y/n), right on time. Early even.” Kirari appeared in the doorway behind Sayaka who looked back at her with a bewildered expression. “Ready for your first day on the job?”

“President! What are you saying? What is the meaning of this?” Sayaka asked, looking between Kirari and (Y/n) as if to try to draw her own conclusion.

“Sayaka, (Y/n) is going to be your errand girl from now on. Sort of a secretary of a secretary situation.” Kirari explained with an amused grin. “I feel like your work efficiency would be maximized if you didn’t have to run all over the school.”

“But president, I can’t just-“

“(Y/n) has graciously gambled away her services, so use her as you see fit.”

The wording Kirari used, left the two second years gaping and thoroughly embarrassed. The awkward silence that followed seemed to be lost on the president and she continued to speak.

“I’ll provide the first task as an example. (Y/n), Ikishima has neglected to return a rather important file that is needed for the composition of a life plan, retrieve it.”

“Yeah, okay.” (Y/n) quickly turned tail and jogged away from the president and her secretary, thankful for every step that parted her from the awkward confrontation and headed to the bowels of the school.

Sayaka and Kirari watched her leave. The latter looking very pleased with herself.

“President, what did you do?” Sayaka asked, studying Kirari’s mirthful face.

“I was merely following up on my promise. I said I’d find out if she was okay, didn’t I? Now you can see for yourself anytime you wish.”

“I didn’t intend for you to gamble her into servitude!” Sayaka’s voice cracked with exasperation. “What was going to happen if you lost?”

“She was going to transfer schools.” Kirari revealed, drinking in Sayaka’s shocked expression with amused satisfaction, “I don’t know what you did to her Sayaka, but she is positively terrified of you.”

“I- I didn’t do anything! At least, I think...” Sayaka poised a contemplative fist over her lips, thinking back from middle school to present, sifting through memories to find anything to the contrary.

“No matter, you’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to proceed,” Kirari waved dismissively, “I never discussed a date of release before the gamble, but I’m sure keeping her in this position after your graduation would be a tad excessive. Now,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, eliciting a shudder from the underclassman, “I’d love another cup of tea before the meeting.”

***

(Y/n) descended the stairs to the basement floor of the school. She could hear the distinctive hum of old fluorescent lights and boiler room generators, by looking at the rest of Hyakkaou, you’d never think that such a rich school would have such an ancient, decrepit, looking basement.

As she continued clicking down the darkened hall she could hear a muffled, albeit echoing, cackle that would have sent her sprinting in the opposite direction if not for the fact that it was a familiar laugh she had heard disrupt class on countless occasions.

(Y/n) turned down the next hallway, jumping and covering her ears as a shot rang out, painfully reverberating off of the walls.

“It’s like a goddamn haunted murder house down here.” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.

She turned down one more hallway and met a couple beautification committee members loitering around.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed them awkwardly, wincing when the small group quieted and eyed her suspiciously, “I’m, uh, looking for Ikishima?”

“Get lost, she’s... busy” one of the grunts replied, a faint look of discomfort, hidden as she pretended to examine her nails.

“It’s student council business,” (Y/n) persisted. As much as she would have loved to peace out right then, there was no way she was going to return from her first errand empty handed. “It can’t wait.”

“No one gives a damn. Trust me when I say you don’t want to go in there.”

“I’ll take the chance.”

“Hey!”

(Y/n) walked passed the disgruntled committee members and banged on the door, the thudding carried down the hall.

“Ikishima! I’m here to collect a file for a life plan!” (Y/n) called through the heavy metal door.

“Damn it! What the hell?” Midari yanked the door open and (Y/n) had to take several steps back at witnessing the severe sweaty, disheveled state the girl on the other side was in. “I was so fucking close and you just cut me off like that? What the hell, that just turns me on more!”

“The file? Now, please?” (Y/n) stuttered out, desperately wishing for a line of brain and eye bleaching products that would make her forget ever seeing her classmate like this. For now she would simply have to settle with getting the hell out of there as soon as possible.

“Wait a minute, why did you get sent here, (Y/n)? The way you pounded on the door, I thought you were Sayaka again.” The girl laughed and (Y/n) mentally gave Sayaka her condolences. “Whatever, there’s a meeting in ten minutes. Why can’t I just bring it then?”

“They probably thought you would forget.” (Y/n) shrugged uncomfortably.

“Hey, you know what, that’s fair.” Midari nodded, “Hang on a second,” she slipped back into the room and came out a few seconds later with a stained and soggy looking piece of trash. “Here, now get lost. Unless you plan on joining me in here.”

“Wh... why is it wet? And what’s this stain?” (Y/n) made a disgusted face as she held the paper away from her, pinching one corner with her thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, (L/n).” Midari cackled, the sound continuing on even well after the door had been shut in (Y/n)’s face once more.

On the way back to the student council room, (Y/n) made a pit stop for a ziplock baggie and went to the restroom to wash her hands in the most scalding water she could handle.

***

“That was surprisingly quick,” Kirari smirked from her chair at the head of the table as (Y/n) knocked politely before letting herself in. Sayaka’s head swiveled in (Y/n)’s direction as well, looking more concerned than her amused counterpart. “Were you able to retrieve the file?”

(Y/n) nodded stiffly and presented the file, confined in the plastic of the ziplock baggie like evidence in a murder case, to the president.

“Oh my, it’s hardly legible,” Kirari spoke, her tone suggesting that she may have been mildly impressed by the paper. Or perhaps it was a morbid fascination. “And what’s this stain here?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ll ever want to know.” (Y/n) replied, placing the plastic wrapped atrocity on the table. Sayaka pursed her lips and nodded as if (Y/n) had spoken some old, wise philosophical scripture.

“Oh well, I’m sure Sayaka can write up a fresh copy later. Congratulations on completing your first assignment, (Y/n). The meeting will be starting soon so please take your position to Sayaka’s right,” Kirari motioned to the girl standing behind her.

“That’s wholly unnecessary, president,” Sayaka shook her head, “We will look silly.”

“Not at all. Surely you can see the logic of wanting my right hand by my side. The right hand of my right hand is by extension, mine as well and needs to be close as such. (Y/n), take Sayaka’s right.”

“Uh, yes, president. Whatever you say,” (Y/n) moved around the table and stood a respectable distance away from Sayaka, directing her attention to the exotic fish swimming in the large aquarium nearby.

“Closer.” Kirari commanded, gently.

Without moving her eyes from the aquarium (Y/n) took a half step in Sayaka’s direction.

“Closer, (Y/n),” Kirari said again, “we must look like a cohesive unit.”

“It’s okay, (L/n)-san, I won’t bite.” Sayaka said, ushering the girl closer with a worried half smile.

“Unless you’re into that kind of thing.” Kirari amended with an amused grin, watching the second years sputter and gasp at her like fish out of water.

When the rest of the council members finally began filtering in, (Y/n) and Sayaka were stood almost shoulder to shoulder while Kirari sat sipping her tea with a satisfied expression.

Although the council had technically been disbanded because of the election, there was still work to be done that could not be held off without threatening the school structure.

“Wow, (Y/n), you really working here now?” Midari asked, doing a double take as she plopped in her seat. “I thought you were just looking for an excuse to see yours truly again.” Midari laughed, pointing at herself with her gun.

“Not really, no.” (Y/n) spoke dryly, arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“Oh that’s right, because you like-“

“Ikishima!”

As the door was violently pushed open to reveal the teen idol Yumemi,(Y/n) exhaled harshly, feeling heat crawling all the way up to the tips of her ears as she continued to watch the fish, not daring to even spare a hint of a glance through her periphery in the direction of Sayaka and Kirari.

“Ikishima, my whole stage still smells like a barn!” The idol gritted through a menacing smile.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Midari said, swinging her legs onto the table.

“I’m ordering a deep cleanse and you’re paying for it!” Yumemi huffed, taking her seat as well.

“Bahhh, whatever.” Midari waved her off, earning a laugh from Runa as she flopped onto a nearby couch.

The vice president silently made her way to stand at the president’s left, taking a moment to stare between the three people at the head of the table. Or at least, (Y/n) guessed she was. It was hard to tell with the mask.

Yuriko came in last, looking a bit frazzled as she took her own seat. Once it was clear that everyone was situated, Sayaka began to recite the major talking points and the meeting began.

***

(Y/n) swears she almost fell asleep standing up. Only jolting out of her meditative state as chairs scraped against the floor signaling that the meeting must have ended. Her eyes darting to the clock on the wall, revealing that classes would start soon. Taking the time into account, she moved to the wall where she had left her school bag and hooked it over her shoulder before turning back to the president and her secretary.

“I can go to class now, right?”

“Of course,” Kirari gave a slight nod, “just give Sayaka a moment to gather her things and you can go together. Won’t that be nice?”

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Sayaka as she packed her bag full of folders, quickly averting her eyes when Sayaka looked up expectantly from her bag. (Y/n) discreetly cleared her throat, “Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Sayaka asked, shouldering the heavy bag with little effort as she stepped forward. Wow, she’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“Yes,” (Y/n) responded, walking over to the door to hold it open for the secretary.

“Do be back for lunch.” Kirari called.

“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded, provoking a hint of warmth in Kirari’s charming smile before she turned her back to the door to face the vice president who seemed to eye her intently as (Y/n) closed the door behind her.

They didn’t make it very far down the hall before Sayaka produced a fancy, black, hardcover notebook and held it out to (Y/n).

“I took the liberty of taking notes for you in your absence,” she explained, a small, sweet smile upon her lips.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have, thank you very much!” (Y/n) stared at the notebook with a pleasant warmth building in her chest. She accepted the notebook, accidentally brushing fingers with Sayaka in the process. Her breath caught in her throat as Sayaka’s hand caught her own instead of falling away once the notebook had left it. Her other hand reached up to cup the notebook from underneath when it became clear that (Y/n) was about to drop it.

“It was no trouble but, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Haha, well, one of the president’s conditions of the gamble was for me to go back to class. I guess I couldn’t really hide in the library forever though.” (Y/n) shrugged, trying to be nonchalant while fighting off the emotions bubbling just below the surface.

“You were in the library?” Sayaka looked perplexed as students walked around them, a few giving inquisitive looks as they passed but otherwise hurried to class. “I must have checked there at least three times.”

“You were looking for me?”

“Yes,” Sayaka lightly squeezed (Y/n)’s hand and the notebook between her own, “I even spoke to that degenerate you sit next to, to see if they knew where you were. A useless conversation.”

“Why?” (Y/n) asked with a tremor in her voice, partially afraid of what Sayaka would say.

“I’ll be more than happy to explain at lunch, but we’re going to be late if we don’t start moving.” Sayaka pulled her hands away and motioned (Y/n) forward. (Y/n) fell into step beside Sayaka, heading to their classroom while her heart beat violently against her rib cage.

Upon entering the room mere moments before their teacher, Sayaka smiled kindly at (Y/n) before taking her seat. (Y/n) had her own dreamy look on her face that melted into a steady frown as she made her way to the back of the room and made eye contact with her sheepishly smiling friend.

(Y/n) plopped down in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Hey.”

(Y/n) ignored them, focusing her gaze on the front of the room.

“Come on, (Y/n). I told you I was sorry!” Tsubasa whispered, scooting closer, “You can have my notes if you want, you kinda missed a lot.”

“I don’t need them. Besides, you take shit notes.” (Y/n) grumbled.

“How about I let you punch me in the face? Trip me into the fountain outside? What if I buy my favorite ice cream and right before I get to taste it, you knock the cone out of my hand?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but snort at the suggestion, covering her mouth with her hand and shying away from the look the teacher sent her way before resuming his lecture.

“I really am sorry you know. I’ve missed by best friend.”

“I’m still mad at you, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t miss you too.” (Y/n) simpered.

“Wanna join the crew at lunch? I’ll buy.”

“I can’t actually,” (Y/n)’s smile became a little regretful, “I kind of belong to the student council now so-“

“You what!?” Tsubasa yelled, their voice commanding the attention of the whole classroom, even Sayaka looked back with a raised brow.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” The teacher spoke coldly.

“No, sorry!” They squeaked, sliding further down their chair.

“Great, try to pay attention, please,” the teacher turned back to his presentation, “Now where were we...”

“Shit.” They sighed under their breath.

“Nice one.” (Y/n) whispered back with a grin.

“Well what do you expect when you drop a bomb like that? What happened?”

“Shouldn’t you be quiet? You’re already on thin ice.”

“What’s the worst he can do, this school is fucked academically anyway. Tell me what you’re doing with the stuco.”

“Okay, just don’t scream... I gambled with the president,” (Y/n) paused, watching Tsubasa cover their mouth and bend over their desk with shock. It was clear they were trying very hard to keep it all together as the lecture continued. “I lost and as per our agreement I have to go to class and assist Igarashi-san with student council duties.”

“Oh my god!” They gasped,

looking between (Y/n) and the back of Sayaka’s head. “Don’t you see what this means?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me what you think it means,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, taking notes on the new slide of the presentation.

“What it means is you’ve earned yourself not one, but two potential girlfriends!” They grinned, flashing a  discrete peace sign.

“That’s not what it means at all.” (Y/n) deadpanned.

“Come on, (Y/n)! Since when does the president find interest in plebeians like us? And don’t you think Igarashi would have been absolutely livid to have the president’s attention on you and not herself? I mean, remember how snippy she was when Jabami first rose in prevalence?”

(Y/n) shook her head, “You’re being ridiculous. I’m probably only in Igarashi-san’s good graces because she knows about my feelings for her and it would stand to reason that she doesn’t have to worry about me taking her place or making moves on the president. And then the president! As if anyone knows why the president does any of the things she does. She was probably bored and thought it be funny to watch me make a fool of myself in front of Igarashi everyday.”

“Just you wait. You’ll be a part of their weird little role play before the month is out, I guarantee it.”

“Don’t say it like that! Also, it’s not gonna happen so drop it.” (Y/n) kicked at the exposed ankle across the lane.

“Do I smell a wager to be made?” Tsubasa smirked through the pain, rubbing their ankle.

“I only thing I smell is someone who needs to mind their own business and start taking notes, you degenerate.”

“Igarashi is rubbing off on you already I see.”

***

After four more hours of hushed interrogation, lunch period began. Sayaka waited for (Y/n) in the hallway and (Y/n) gave her troublesome friend a warning glance, daring them to say anything stupid.

“Hey, Igarashi. Take good care of (Y/n) now, okay?” Tsubasa dodged (Y/n)’s fist and waggled their eyebrows before dashing off to the cafeteria.

“Ignore them.” (Y/n) said, almost pleadingly.

“Right, shall we?” Sayaka motioned in the direction of the student council.

“Oh, is it alright if I grab something from the cafeteria first? I didn’t pack a lunch.” (Y/n) asked.

“No need, I’ve arranged for lunch to be catered to the student council room.” Sayaka explained, leading (Y/n) to the grand, wooden double doors.

Sayaka knocked before entering, holding the door open for (Y/n) to slip in before closing it once more.

“Excellent timing, a house pet arrived with lunch just a few minutes ago.” Kirari informed, moving to the parlor area of the large room.

“Shall I fix your tea, president?” Sayaka asked, already walking across the room to start the kettle.

“Yes, please do.” Kirari nodded before then focused in on (Y/n), standing awkwardly near the fish tank. “Come take a seat, (Y/n). Sayaka will join us soon.” Kirari smiled, gesturing to the lush armchair seated to the left of the loveseat where Kirari regally sat.

“Of course, thank you, president.” (Y/n) sat back in the cushioned chair and although it was the epitome of luxury, she kept her back rigid and both feet firmly planted on the ground, staring at her hands as she nervously picked at the edge of her skirt.

“Still so tense,” Kirari sighed, “What happened to my old maid partner over the weekend? I thought we had hit it off rather splendidly.”

“Oh! That reminds me...” (Y/n) dug her hand into her blazer pocket and fished out the joker card from last Friday, presenting it to Kirari, “I figured you would want this back.”

Kirari pulled one eyebrow up in amusement and reached forward. Much like she had done in the library, her fingers grasped passed the card and took hold of (Y/n)’s wrist. Her icy lips curled into an almost sinful smile as she tugged (Y/n) forward. Not enough to pull her from her seat, but enough to bend her closer with (Y/n)’s arm fully extended, held near Kirari’s knees. (Y/n)’s ears burned as Kirari leaned closer and blew directly into her ear, raising the heat tenfold.  (Y/n) had no escape from the close proximity as Kirari kept her wrist hostage.

“Thank you,” Kirari hummed, “Is this perhaps your way of suggesting we play again? I would happily indulge you for the right wager.”

“I, uh, um-“

“The tea is ready president.” Sayaka informed, placing the tea set in the middle of the table with a barely audible click.

(Y/n) noted the loosening of Kirari’s grip and used it as an opportunity to straighten back up and put as much space between her and the president as possible, but she feared it was already too late.

Sayaka’s shadow loomed over (Y/n) and she clenched her eyes shut. Sucking in a breath, she tried to prepare herself for the volts of electricity that were sure to come.

“(L/n)? Tea?”

(Y/n) slowly looked up at Sayaka, meeting her mildly concerned features before glancing down to Sayaka’s hands, noting the tea cup and dish that were held out to her.

(Y/n) blinked, thanking Sayaka and accepting the tea with shaky hands. She wasn’t going to get tazed? Sure, Kirari had been the instigator of the close contact, but (Y/n) had expected a murderous look at the very least regardless of who started it. Yet, here Sayaka stood before her, offering her tea looking as calm as can be.

“Sayaka, come sit with me.” Kirari implored, patting the spot beside her on the loveseat.

Sayaka moved with barely contained excitement and with her cheeks blushing faintly, she took her place right of the president.

(Y/n) smiled from behind her tea cup though her heart ached. They looked cute together, happy. Everyone in the academy had some inkling that the president and her secretary had some kind of relationship beyond their work on the council, but many assumed that Sayaka was being used. Simply a means to an end that would be discarded once the president grew tired of her. Based on how tenderly Kirari wiped a stray crumb from Sayaka’s beet red cheek, (Y/n) would have to disagree with her peers.

With the attentions of Kirari and Sayaka focused away from her, (Y/n) took the opportunity to eat her own lunch. Wherever Sayaka had catered from was really great. (Y/n) happily ate the food on her plate and enjoyed the fish swimming around the large aquarium, lost in her own world.

“Are we too dull to keep your interest, (Y/n)?” Kirari asked, piercing through the girl’s all too temporary peace. Sayaka peered over at her as well, whatever the intelligent eyes were searching for (Y/n) couldn’t guess.

“Not at all! I was just in my own little world, sorry! Did you need something?” (Y/n) sat stiffly in her chair once more, waiting anxiously for the president’s reply.

“Now that you mention it, there is something I need.” Kirari smirked lazily, a hand resting just below her lips. “Unfortunately now is not the time however. Not until I further discuss the details with Sayaka.”

Sayaka looked just as in the dark as (Y/n) was as to knowing what that meant, but she didn’t ask for any clarification on the matter. Trusting that her president would tell her what she saw fit when the time came.

“Just be more present with us. I want us to all be well acquainted and we can’t have that if you keep floating off.” Kirari added. (Y/n) nearly spat out her latest sip of tea when Kirari’s foot slowly dragged up her leg from her ankle to her calf before sliding back down and returning to its original position.

“Okay!” (Y/n) coughed. Some of her tea seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe.

(Y/n) was tense throughout the rest of the lunch period. Especially when the president seemed intent on making (Y/n) watch her feel up Sayaka. Okay, so it wasn’t like, explicit or anything but, still! By the end of the lunch period Kirari had pulled Sayaka close enough that she was practically sitting in her lap. Sayaka at least had the decency to look embarrassed but Kirari just kept talking to (Y/n) as if this was all normal behavior. And who knows, maybe for the president it was.

(Y/n) had never been more relieved to hear the warning bell in her life. She stood quickly, hitting her knees on the table as she did so. Luckily nothing had broken or spilled.

“I’ll just help clean this up quick then head off to class, is that okay?” (Y/n) winced, trying to discreetly rub her knees.

“Mm, that’s alright. A house pet will get it. You may head off to class. Sayaka and I have something to discuss,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, “be sure to come straight back here after classes let out.”

“Yes, president.” (Y/n) turned towards the door, counting down the seconds until she could breathe again.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, (Y/n)...-san.” Sayaka called after her, still looking red. Perhaps even more so from addressing (Y/n) by her first name out of the blue.

“See you!” (Y/n) squeaked, feeling heat rise in her own cheeks. The president calling her by her first name hadn’t even affected her as strongly as it had when Sayaka just said it. Perhaps because Kirari didn’t seem the type to hold much stake in traditional formalities, but Sayaka certainly seemed the type. To call (Y/n) by her first name without asking her first, even with a formal honorific, it almost made (Y/n) swoon, as foolish as that may sound.

(Y/n) fumbled with the door handle and nearly knocked into the vice president by accident. With an apology quirk on her tongue she continued to walk briskly to her classroom.

“She sure left in a hurry.” Kirari hummed, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder. Ignoring her sister flopping down on the couch. She may have been wearing a mask, but Ririka radiated exhaustion.

“I can’t say I blame her, president- Kirari, you were too... physical with your advances.” Sayaka replied, her hands reached up to cup her own cheeks in an attempt to cool them.

“I was just trying to be friendly, perhaps a little enticing, but how else would we let her know where we stand?”

“You’re moving too fast!” Sayaka exclaimed, “It hasn’t even been a full day since she has started interacting with both of us. You need to gradually work up to it, like with the Tower of Doors, like you did with me.”

“I seem to recall touching you just as much before the completion of the Tower, but perhaps you have a point. Should I be making (Y/n) a tower as well? I suppose it only seems fair.” Kirari looked as if she was already planning the schematics before Sayaka interjected, slightly panicked.

“No! No more towers. (Y/n) is smart, but as you have seen, she is not logical to the same degree as I, and you would most certainly kill her. I would not be able to bare it!”

“Oh, but how interesting it would be to test her mind to the limits.” Kirari spoke wistfully. “To have such an unconventional thought process for dealing with her problems. An irrational rationalism, rather oxymoronic, a paradox. Wouldn’t you say, Say-a-ka?”

“I don’t know why (Y/n) felt the need to touch a seemingly deadly cephalopod in an attempt to get out of answering a sensitive question, but you shouldn’t base a rule off of one experience. Stress has a way of making people do things they wouldn’t normally do. That being said, please don’t make her do anything dangerous.” Sayaka pleaded.

“My, so protective. I thought you said you only had a small crush on her before you met me.” Kirari teased, causing Sayaka to flounder about trying to find her words. “It’s alright, I can see the appeal.”

“The next class period is starting soon. What had you wanted to discuss with me?” Sayaka asked, hoping to derail the current topic of conversation.

“A gamble.” Kirari smiled.

“Ah, a gamble?” Sayaka sighed.

“Yes. I need something a little more stimulating than the election to keep me occupied,” Kirari turned to Ririka for the first time since she entered the room, “Perhaps my dear sister could play dealer for this little wager?”

“No.” Ririka deadpanned, the voice modulator giving the single word a bit more bite. “I love you Kirari, and you’re great Sayaka, but I’ve suffered enough watching you two dance around each other the better part of three years. I don’t want a front row seat to find out how you plan to add a third person into your dynamic.”

“No need to be so pretentious. All you needed to say was that you’re too busy trying to woo Saotome to help your poor, little sister.” Kirari shot back with light theatrics.

“I’m too busy trying to woo Mary to help you, yet again, with your own love life.” Ririka said, fishing her phone out of her skirt pocket to check a text before standing up. “Speaking of, Mary needs me.”

“That girl has changed you. Sometimes I worry it’s for the worse.” Kirari’s words poked at her sister’s retreating figure, hoping to get a rise out of her. She found that she quite liked trying to get under Ririka’s skin now that she had grown a bit of a backbone. Ririka did not give her the satisfaction though, opting to just flat out ignore her sister as she exited the student council room.

“So cold.” Kirari giggled.

“President, Kirari, the gamble?” Sayaka asked trying to get her back on track. She had less than two minutes to get to class now.

“Yes, here is what I have in mind...”

***

“What, you can’t go home now either? (Y/n), that is just tragic.” Tsubasa sympathized, patting (Y/n) on the back until (Y/n) slapped their hand away.

“Knock it off. All I need to do is follow the president and Igarashi-san around for an hour or two while the president gambles. Maybe fetch some things along the way. How hard can it be?”

“(Y/n)-san, are you ready?”

(Y/n) jumped when Sayaka came up behind her and turned swiftly in her direction, “Sure thing, Igarashi-san!”

“Bye (Y/n),” Tsubasa crooned with a mischievous grin, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“What are you even talking about? You know what, I don’t want to know.” (Y/n) waved them off and moved to fall in step beside Sayaka, following her to the student council room.

The halls had vacated rather quickly after school hours. Students usual were in a rush to get to the gambling dens or go home. Of course there was a small population that participated in extracurriculars as well, but in this school such things were of little importance.

After Sayaka and (Y/n) turned the first corner, the lingering voices from their classroom faded further into the background until all they could hear was their shoes clipping in near synchronization against the floor.

“Just Sayaka is fine.”

“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head to face Sayaka, noting the flush of her cheeks as they continued walking.

“I have referred to you by your first name so you may call me Sayaka, I don’t mind.” She elaborated, still looking straight ahead.

“Oh! Sure, thank you, um, Sayaka-san.” (Y/n) stuttered out. Before long, her expression looked just as bashful as Sayaka’s. Never would she have dreamed that she and Sayaka would be on a first name basis! (Y/n) was already on a high from that objectively small step towards familiarity when Sayaka did something that nearly sent (Y/n) into cardiac arrest. She held her hand.

(Y/n)’s neck jerked from Sayaka’s pink face to their conjoined hands several times within the first few seconds of the unsuspected contact, her voice was strangled by her vocal chords allowing only the most pitiful confused squeaks to surface until she quickly clamped her own mouth shut with her free hand.

“I’m sorry, I have poor circulation. Y-you don’t mind warming my hand for a minute, do you?” Sayaka’s delivery was almost smooth, but even if she hadn’t fumbled with the line, the look on her face was anything but calm and confident.

“You’re fine!” (Y/n) winced internally. She sounded much too enthusiastic and spoke much too quick. Sayaka was going to think she was a creep for sure now. But no, Sayaka did not seem overly bothered by the quick reply. She actually seemed, relieved?

“We never did get to talk about why I was looking for you over lunch.” Sayaka stated, seemingly content to carry on a conversation while their hands swayed between them with each step.

“No, I suppose we didn’t.” (Y/n) replied. Her heart twinged, thinking back on how close Sayaka and the president had been. She needed to remind herself not to get her hopes up about Sayaka, even if she was currently threading her fingers between (Y/n)’s own.

“You must know by now that I saw the broadcast, Midari’s gamble.”

(Y/n) swallowed audibly, hoping desperately that her hand wouldn’t start sweating. “I figured as much. But the president did tell me that.”

“I see. Well, I wanted to talk to you about what you said. About your truth. I needed to talk with the president about it first of course. Then by the time we had it sorted out, it had been a few days and I had already noticed you hadn’t been in class at all so I had started looking for you. I wanted to tell you—“

“Don’t worry about it!” (Y/n) cut in with a forced smile, “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?” Sayaka asked, (Y/n) almost believed that the secretary had gripped her hand harder just then, but quickly pushed the thought away. Chalking it up to more wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I knew I never had a chance. I was actually kind of hoping you just wouldn’t bring it up, but knowing you, I should've guessed you would want to follow the rules of etiquette and reject me formally.” (Y/n) had said, struggling to keep the melancholy out of her tone.

“(Y/n),” Sayaka actually looked rather pained, but the expression was lost on (Y/n) as the other girl tried to distract herself by looking out the windows they passed. “That’s not what I-“

“There you two are. Having fun without me I see.” Sayaka and (Y/n) whipped their heads forward, watching Kirari walking towards them as the student council room doors closed behind her with a dull thud. “Need I remind you that there are gambles that require my attention?” Kirari smirked lightly.

Sayaka looked momentarily torn before finally addressing her president. “I apologize president. I hadn’t realized we were running late.”

“Oh, you weren’t. I’m just feeling antsy today I suppose.” Kirari shrugged her shoulders lackadaisically before making a show of noticing Sayaka and (Y/n)’s connected hands. “My, I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything just now. Look how close you two are already. I think I might even be jealous.” Kirari said, her soft smirk never once faltered as her glacial eyes pinned the underclassmen in place.

“She said her hand was cold is all!” (Y/n) quickly explained, and although her hold on Sayaka’s hand slackened, the secretary did not take the invitation to remove her hand. “You’re more than welcome to take my place. I’m sure she’d prefer your company anyway.”

“I see,” Kirari’s eyes drifted over Sayaka for a moment, “Unfortunately, I suffer from the same ailment. In fact, I’d argue I’m worse off than Sayaka in that regard. I hadn’t realized you would be so valuable, (Y/n),” Kirari closed the distance between them, surprising (Y/n) by slipping her hand into (Y/n)’s free one. “Mm, yes, I could get used to this.”

If (Y/n) thought Sayaka’s hand was cool to the touch, Kirari’s was literal ice. Were the rumors of her being a vampire true? My god, her hand was down right freezing maybe the blue coloring of her nails wasn’t even polish.

“Well then, the gambling hall awaits. Not that I care to appease the masses, but Sayaka insists I entertain the delusions of the smaller fish.” Kirari sighed.

“I want to see you come out on top of this election, president. Every vote counts.” Sayaka stated matter-of-factly.

(Y/n) just stared blankly ahead as they strolled down the hall, occasionally looking down at her hands, each encompassed by the hands of the president and her secretary who continued to talk around her. She would have pinched herself if she had a free hand to do so.

Before they entered the den, Sayaka and Kirari disengaged, breaking (Y/n) from her trance just in time for (Y/n) to tune into the president’s words now directed at her.

“I do hope you have a vivid imagination, (Y/n). I can’t fathom that any of these matches will be particularly entertaining to watch.”

Sayaka looked the slightest bit irked by the president’s behavior, but it was very subtle. Especially when devotion and loyalty always seemed to shine most prominently when she looked at her. Sayaka motioned (Y/n) to open the left side of the double doors while Sayaka herself opened the right, allowing Kirari to saunter right in. Any ambient noise that they had heard before died instantly upon the president’s entry.

The trio made their way to the back, center table and Sayaka pulled out the vacant chair that would serve as Kirari’s throne for the evening. Kirari sat gracefully, hooking one knee over the other she smiled down at the students who had already gathered around the free seats before connecting eyes with the election committee member who would serve as their dealer.

“Let us not waste anymore time. What are we playing tonight?” Kirari asked. (Y/n) could only see her side profile from where she stood beside Sayaka, but she swore those endlessly blue eyes were glowing.

***

Despite Kirari’s warning, (Y/n) found she was not bored at all. Kirari was a gambling beast. Claiming vote after vote until none remained and the room was quiet for a whole other reason, everyone had left, dejected and voteless.

“Another clean sweep Momobami-san. I’ll be sure to process the votes before the updated rankings come out tomorrow.” Inaho informed.

“I see. Thank you for your diligence.” Kirari replied offhandedly as she rose from her seat. “Sayaka, is my car waiting out front?”

“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded.

“Let’s be on our way then.”

(Y/n) walked with them until they reached the school gate. Expecting to go their separate ways from there, but when she made to continue past the expensive black car, Kirari stopped her.

“I hope you weren’t planning on waking home. It’s already quite late you know.”

“I always walk home, actually. It’s really not that far. I’ll be fine.” (Y/n) assured.

“If you live so close then come with us. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” Kirari left no room for argument, cementing her position by waving (Y/n) into the doorway Sayaka had pulled open.

“If you insist...” (Y/n) crawled in and sat at the far end of the car. She was amazed at how spacious it was in there and how soft the seats were. The vehicle also still had that new car smell, (Y/n) vaguely wondered if the Momobamis just bought a new car every week.

Kirari crawled in soon after her, followed by Sayaka closing the door tightly behind her. The secretary signaled the driver before pushing a button that closed the privacy window, blocking the driver’s view of them in the back seat.

(Y/n) tilted her head to look out the window however, her jaw was quickly snapped up between icy fingers, pulling her vision back to the interior of the car.

“Not this again.” Kirari tutted, keeping her hold on (Y/n)’s jaw, “Sayaka and I are right here. Surely you could spare us a few minutes of your attention.”

“Sorry.” (Y/n) gulped, feeling the icy fingers slide down her cheeks to her neck before pulling away. Staring at the two of them, their eyes, it was like being caught between the deepest depths of the sea and the furthest reaches of outer space. It was intense, who could blame (Y/n) for trying to look away.

“Ah,” Kirari startled (Y/n) by leaning fully against her side, resting her cheek fully against (Y/n)’s shoulder, “what a dull evening this has turned out to be. It’s only Monday as well.”

(Y/n) felt more weight press her a tad further against the car door and saw Sayaka lean against Kirari in turn like the three of them were toppled dominos.

“Keep pushing on president. The weekend will come faster than you think.” Sayaka assured, reaching one arm over Kirari to cover (Y/n)’s hand that was picking at the hem of her skirt, stilling the movement and further confusing the poor girl.

“Mm, but do I have anything to look forward to this weekend dear Say-a-ka?” Kirari playfully tapped Sayaka’s nose for each syllable of her name, causing the secretary’s nose to scrunch cutely.

“Well, that’s the gamble, isn’t it?” Sayaka answered back, her eyes shifted to meet (Y/n)’s as of trying to convey something to her.

“Mm, I suppose you’re right.” Kirari agreed, joining Sayaka’s hand over (Y/n)’s.

“What gamble? Is it for the election?” (Y/n) asked, dipping a metaphorical toe into the conversation. Even if Kirari seemed to want her attention, that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted her commentary. She still didn’t know where she was supposed to fit in this new role. Kirari, however, seemed pleased with her query.

“No, it’s a separate affair. I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out. Sayaka rarely indulges me when it comes to such things. Tell me, (Y/n),” Kirari’s eyes glinted, “which of us do you think will come out on top?”

“Kirari!” Sayaka scolded halfheartedly.

(Y/n) felt her cheeks prickle with heat. Was that supposed to be an innuendo or did Sayaka simply want to keep the gamble to themselves? She wasn’t sure. Still, it would be unwise to drop the subject when the president was so clearly waiting for an answer.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure, president.” (Y/n) answered diplomatically. “What are you gambling for, if I may ask?”

“That, dear (Y/n),” Kirari drew in close, “is a secret for another time.”

(Y/n) gulped at the proximity then sighed when Kirari pulled back to play with Sayaka’s ponytail. She was somehow both relieved and disappointed to have her own space back.

“It appears we’ve reached your destination.” Kirari spoke as the car came to a smooth stop at the curb. “Be sure to get a good night’s sleep. Don’t think Sayaka and I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under your eyes.”

“Yes, please sleep well (Y/n).” Sayaka echoed, earning a chuckle from Kirari.

“You also sleep too little for my liking. Don’t think I forgot about that ‘accidental’ phone call at four in the morning last week.” Kirari taunted lightly.

“Kirari!” Sayaka covered her eyes, embarrassed.

“I’ll try to get some sleep.” (Y/n) smiled, stepping out of the car. She bent over to look back in, “Thank you for the ride. Good night, sleep well. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

(Y/n) stood straight up and closed the car door. She walked to the curb outside her house and waved at the car as it picked up speed and disappeared down the road.

No one else was home. They were either out working or out on business retreats or cocktail parties so the first thing (Y/n) did upon entering her home was yell about the fucking weird turn her life was taking.

***

It was Friday and (Y/n) felt like she had aged thirty years in the last four days. For some reason beyond her comprehension, Sayaka and Kirari had become even more... touchy, since Monday. Every touch, especially from Kirari, seemed methodical. Like they were trying to provoke a certain reaction from (Y/n). What kind, she wasn’t sure. But they would often say some sweet words and get way too close to (Y/n)’s face. Close enough that if (Y/n) didn’t keep her wits about her, she was worried she’d close the short distance and kiss one of them.

“I don’t know what they’re making you do over there in that council room, but I think you need to ask for a vacation or something because you look like shit.” Tsubasa had lovingly told (Y/n) during class.

“I don’t know what they’re trying to do to me.” (Y/n) groaned, rubbing her palms harshly against her eyes.

“What are they doing to you?”

“I don’t even know how to explain. ‘Don’t think I want to.” (Y/n) leaned further into her desk.

“They’re trying to seduce you already, huh?” Tsubasa grinned.

“No!” (Y/n) hissed back. “Stop saying stuff like that!”

“Well, whatever’s going on, you clearly need a break.”

“I would love a break, but in case you forgot, I pretty much sold my soul to the president for the rest of high school. It doesn’t seem like an option.”

“I have an idea. What if you just, broke your legs?” Tsubasa suggested, looking pleased with themself. (Y/n) frowned at them, unimpressed.

“How the hell would that help?”

“Bed rest. Can’t really follow them around all day with broken legs now can you?”

“They’d probably get me a wheelchair. It’s make more sense to fake having tuberculosis or something. Rather than actually break my own legs.”

“Oh now you’re all about self preservation. Where did octopus girl go?” Tsubasa mocked jokingly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s it!”

(Y/n) and Tsubasa jumped in their seats and all their classmates swiveled in their seats to look back at them. Their algebra teacher seemed to have finally had enough of their little conversation.

“(L/n)-san, can you tell me what I just said?”

“No sir, I apologize.” (Y/n) quickly replied, heat crawling up her neck and settling in her cheeks.

“That’s what I thought,” the teacher shook his head despondently before switching his gaze to Tsubasa who looked largely unaffected, “I’m not even going to ask you. I need both of you to stay after class.”

“But, but lunch!” Tsubasa cried, their expression turned on a dime.

“It won’t take long. Everyone else may leave a few minutes early so we can have the classroom to ourselves.”

(Y/n) watched everyone else get up to leave. Her eyes caught Sayaka’s and she felt even more embarrassed at the sympathetic wave she gave her before following the rest of the class out of the door.

***

“Man, that teacher had no chill today, huh?” Tsubasa grinned when they finally came out of the classroom.

“Yeah, now I’m late. Thanks for making me suffer through that talk.” (Y/n)’s frown deepened.

“It’s about time honestly. I was starting to think he had a bias against me.”

“My work shows I’m learning something. You never get above a ‘D’, so of course he’d be more pissed at you.” (Y/n) looked up at the clock on the wall and noted the time,  “I’ve got to get to the student council room. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, maybe we should get in trouble more often. I hardly get to see you these days.”

“I’d really rather not make a habit of getting chewed out by teachers. I got to go.” (Y/n) called over her shoulder, already making her way to the student council room. When she arrived, the door was already partly ajar and she heard Sayaka and Kirari talking to each other.

“Time is running out for our little gamble Sayaka. At our current standings it appears that we both may lose.”

(Y/n) paused just out of sight. She had forgotten about Sayaka and Kirari’s secret gamble. With a wave of curiosity flowing through her she stood quietly, waiting to see if she could hear anything else about the wager.

“You do like a challenge, Kirari. I can’t imagine she could hold out much longer though. I’m sure (Y/n) would have kissed me yesterday if you had not sent Midari to interfere.”

(Y/n) knew what Sayaka was referring to instantly. Yesterday, she and Sayaka had paused to sit at the fountain in the courtyard. Sayaka had told (Y/n) she had something in her hair and combed her fingers through it, smiling tenderly all the while. They had been so close, then Midari ran up and belly flopped into the shallow waters, dousing her fellow Sazanka classmates with it. (Y/n) never would have thought Sayaka had actually wanted to kiss her before that moment.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kirari giggled, “Besides, (Y/n) and I have had a few close encounters ourselves. It’s anyone’s game.”

(Y/n) was in shock. We’re they really trying to make her kiss on of them for a gamble? Her blood began to boil. Was this all just some funny game to them? They knew about her feelings for Sayaka, they had to be making fun of her.

(Y/n) roughly gripped the door handle and swung the door open, startling Sayaka, but Kirari simply looked back with a raised brow and an amused smile.

“I don’t care that I have to be a secretary to a secretary for the rest of my days at this academy, but I refuse to be played with like this!” (Y/n) shot angrily. “Oh, (Y/n)’s so pathetic and desperate! Let’s see if we can get her to kiss one of us so we can laugh about it later!” (Y/n) mocked. “Well, I refuse to be walked over like this.”

“Oh, (Y/n)! It’s not like that I swear!” Sayaka pleaded, stepping towards (Y/n) only for the other girl to step away from her.

“(Y/n),” Kirari singsonged, “you are talking about things you do not fully understand. Come sit so we can discuss this and shed some clarity on the situation.”

“No!” (Y/n) clenched her firsts tightly against her sides. “I need some time to myself.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Sayaka called after her, but (Y/n) was already darting out the door and jogging down the hall.

She kept going, slipping out a side exit and headed to one of the back trails of the school forest. As she continued on, she happened upon a small pond, filled with algae. There was a large flat bolder at the shore that looked about just as good a place as any to host a mental breakdown so she sat there, pulling her knees to her chest. (Y/n) sat there looking at a frog that rested half submerged in the duckweed and algae. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket but she ignored it.

“Fuck school.” She muttered to herself. She was sure it was a text from Kirari. Lunch period had ended ten minutes ago and she was supposed to be in class right now. “I’m taking a vacation day.”

Something startled the frog and it dipped under the water, leaving the duckweed to swirl above the disturbed surface. Then a body came into (Y/n)’s peripheral and sat beside her on the boulder and she jerked her head to fully take in the invader.

“Vice president.” (Y/n) stared at the upperclassman, startled by her ghostly presence “What are you doing here?”

“Kirari tasked me with retrieving you and returning you to your studies.” Ririka’s voice crackled beneath the mask.

“I see. I can’t say I’m surprised, it was part of the deal after all.” (Y/n) frowned pensively.

“It was too easy to find you. Now we will just have to stay here for awhile. I could use a nap.”

(Y/n) stared at the vice president, her mouth slightly agape while she watched the masked girl lay back against the rock. Ririka laced her fingers over her stomach and released a relaxed breath. Though through the modulator it sounded more like a ghostly moan.

“You aren’t going to make me go back?” (Y/n) asked.

“Not yet, making Kirari wait should be a more than fitting punishment for being such an idiot.”

“Hh... huh?” (Y/n) didn’t know what to think about any of this. Was she seriously hanging out with the vice president now? Listening to her call the most terrifying person in the school an idiot?

“She has a uniquely awful way of dealing with her feelings that is simply exhausting. I thought once she and Sayaka got together she’d smarten up a bit, but Sayaka continues to indulge in her nonsense.” Ririka looked up at (Y/n) through the black mesh that covered her eyes, “They really do like you, you know.”

“You must be mistaken, vice president.” (Y/n) shook her head, a humorless laugh bubbled past her lips. “It’s all just for some stupid gamble.”

“I never said they were good at conveying it in a way that makes sense.” Ririka shrugged. “Kirari’s idea of a love letter to Sayaka was a five story tower that came with a four out of five chance of death. You should feel relieved that they dialed it back for you.”

“I don’t understand. I heard them talking. It was all for a gamble to see who could make me kiss them.”

“Did you hear what the wager was?” Ririka asked.

“No, but does it really matter?” (Y/n) sighed, looking back out at the pond.

“The winner would get to go out on a date with you first and the loser would have to pay for it.”

(Y/n) stared down at Ririka incredulously.

“Believe me, I know it makes no sense. They both intend to date you, but they don’t seem to know how to go about asking.”

“But, aren’t they already dating each other? I don’t...” (Y/n) went quiet, trying to piece it all together. Her head was starting to hurt.

“It all started during the tournament. We noticed Sayaka was agitated watching the event, but we really didn’t understand why until the octopus round. Kirari wouldn’t let it go, of course. So she finally got Sayaka to admit that she had a crush on you before meeting her.” Ririka recalled.

“Then they spent the following couple days talking about that, and about the possibility of inviting you to join them on a date and then, yeah, you see where that all spiraled off to.”

“That’s... they really like me like that?” (Y/n) whispered.

“Yes, you have my condolences.” Ririka’s phone rumbled in her pocket and she took it out to check it. (Y/n)’s phone rumbled not too long after.

While Ririka read her sister’s text, (Y/n) read her own.

Five new messages

12:14pm

President Momobami: (Y/n), I hope you aren’t planning on backing out on our agreement. I will give you one class period of reprieve, then you must get back to class. We will talk after school.

12:15pm

Igarashi Sayaka: (Y/n), where are you? I’m so sorry, but I swear it’s not what you think.

12:18pm

Igarashi Sayaka: I’m worried about you. Please come back.

12:19pm

Igarashi Sayaka: Please talk to me. At least let me know that you’re okay.

1:02pm

TsuBAKA: where r u? Igarashi looks feral lmao but srsly what u up to?

(Y/n) sighed and turned off her phone without answering any of the messages.

“It’s time to head back, (L/n)-san.” Ririka stood and stretched, “Please don’t make me drag you back as the president suggests.”

“Okay,” (Y/n) scooted off the boulder and smoothed her skirt into place, “thank you for explaining everything to me, Veep. I’m still kind of worked up, but this really helped.”

“When you work as closely with the president as I do, damage control becomes second nature.” Ririka deadpanned.

When they made their way back into the building it was within the five minute break between class periods. (Y/n) waved goodbye to Ririka before walking into her classroom where students were quietly talking amongst themselves. Immediately she heard a desk chair screech harshly against the floor and she looked up just in time to see Sayaka push her right back out the door. She took her by the hand and pulled her down the hall and turned the corner to a more secluded hallway.

“Ah!” (Y/n) gasped when Sayaka pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Sayaka scolded. “We really need to talk.”

“And we will,” (Y/n) pulled back from the hug a bit, “but first we better finish the school day. I’m already on thin ice for violating my contract with the president for one class period.”

“Don’t worry. She understands, we both do,” Sayaka took (Y/n)’s hands in hers, “But before we have to sit through another three class periods, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I promise it’s not what you thought, we just went about it in an entirely inappropriate way and I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make it right!” Sayaka proclaimed, growing steadily louder with each word, making (Y/n) wince, but also smile a small, appreciative smile nonetheless.

“Thank you, Sayaka. You’re well on your way to fulfilling that promise already.” (Y/n) lightly squeezed Sayaka’s hands before letting them go, making the secretary blush. “The teacher will be in soon, better get back to class.”

“Right.” Sayaka followed (Y/n) back into the classroom. Taking her seat, she had finally taken notice of the drumming of her heart. At least (Y/n) didn’t seem as devastated as she had when she stormed out of the student council room, but now she was worried for a whole other reason. Would (Y/n) still be interested in her after all of this, or was it all too much for her?

“What was that all about? Trouble in your office role play?”

“Shut up, Tsubasa.”

***

The classes dragged on and on. When they were finally done, all (Y/n) really wanted to do was go home and sleep the weekend away, but life had other plans.

Sayaka watched (Y/n) gather her belongings intently. As if she was afraid (Y/n) would disappear if she withdrew her gaze. With one last annoying look from Tsubasa, (Y/n) approached Sayaka and they made their way to the student council room together. Sayaka’s mind was whirring with the proper sentiments to convey to her classmate, yet she held her tongue. Deciding it would be best to do so with the president by her side.

Upon entering the room, they saw Kirari gazing into her aquarium. She was seemingly too lost to hear them enter, but of course someone like Kirari Momobami was never one to be caught off guard. Kirari turned to face her underclassmen, offering a slight smile.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise. Are you done with your tantrum?” Kirari teased, much to Sayaka’s chagrin.

“President!” Sayaka warned, cheeks red.

“That depends,” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “are you going to explain yourselves?” (Y/n) doubted that the vice president would lie to her, but to hear it directly from the horse’s mouth would make her feel much more secure.

“Explanations,” Kirari sighed, moving to stand in front of (Y/n), “I don’t do explanations. Not in anyway that makes sense, at least, according to Sayaka,” smile never changing she turned her head to Sayaka, “perhaps you could explain the logistics of it, Sayaka?”

“I should have expected as much,” Sayaka grumbled lightly, earning a chuckle from Kirari. She took (Y/n) by the hand and sat her down on the large, plush couch nearby before taking a seat next to her, “(Y/n) in order to keep this as simple as possible, I’m going to be very brief. I’ll be happy to answer any questions once I present our case.” Sayaka spoke as if she was getting ready to do a presentation.

“Mm, so methodical.” Kirari hummed, taking the empty seat on (Y/n)’s other side, making their thighs touch despite the ample space left on the furniture. Sayaka ignored her and began her explanation.

“The president... Kirari and I, want to date you. Kirari came up with the idea that whichever one of us you kissed first would get to take you out somewhere first while the other had to pay and stay home. It wasn’t our intention to hurt you. We really should have just asked you like the vice president suggested. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m confused,” (Y/n) started, trying to ignore how Kirari kept dancing the fingers of one of her hands up and down (Y/n)’s thigh, presumably out of boredom, “If you both want to date me, why wouldn’t you just... why was the gamble a one or the other thing? Why wouldn’t you both get to go?”

Kirari’s fingers stopped tapping and Sayaka’s face drew a blank. (Y/n) took the silence as a sign to keep going.

“Like, okay, say this somehow worked and one of you took me out on a date. Then what? Did you think you could just... switch off? Were you actually planning to approach me about polygamy or was it supposed to be some kind of surprise? And doesn’t it sound backwards to kiss before we actually start dating anyway?”

“We hadn’t thought about that.” They answered in comical unison after a few moments of dead air silence.

“Wow, now I understand why the vice president is so tired.” (Y/n) released a laugh of disbelief, “You two are kind of hopeless, no offense.”

“I would advise you watch your tongue, (Y/n),” Kirari shifted her weight to loom over (Y/n) with their faces inches apart, “I had previously chosen to ignore your insubordination earlier, but if you’re going to tempt me, a punishment may be in order after all.”

“Here is the new gamble,” Kirari continued, eyes gleaming, “kiss Sayaka, and she wins, kiss me, and I win. Whoever loses still has to pay for the excursion, but gets to tag along. Of course, you could choose to walk out the door if you so desire. Just keep in mind that I technically own you.”

“Kirari! You can’t just coerce her like that! We already failed with the first gamble attempt. I’m all gambled out, can we not push (Y/n) further away please?” Sayaka pleaded.

“I’ll do it.” (Y/n) shrugged, standing up from her seat and turning to face the other two girls still on the couch.

“You... you will?” Sayaka asked. She really couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, can you two stand up, please.”

“My, (Y/n). I must say I didn’t expect you to take the bait after our misunderstanding earlier,” Kirari stood up, poised as ever, “I’m excited to witness your choice.”

(Y/n) stared between her two choices, eyeing their expressions, their body language, for any last second tells that this was all just a dream or a cruel prank and found nothing. She took in a deep breath and nodded to herself.

“President.”

“Yes?” Kirari smirked. She hardly moved forward before (Y/n) stopped her.

“Could you lean down a little? A little more... great.” (Y/n) cupped Kirari’s left cheek and startled Sayaka by cupping the secretary’s right cheek. She pushed the duo’s heads together until they were cheek to burning cheek and angled their surprisingly pliant faces until they were more or less kissing each other awkwardly with the corner of their lips. With one quick look at her handy work, (Y/n) hummed and leaned in. It was hard to do so with so many noses in the way, but she tilted her head back and managed to land a chaste kiss on both the icy blue and glossy pink lips before her.

“Ha, bet you weren’t expecting that now, were you?” (Y/n) pulled back with a grin. It hadn’t been a sexy first kiss, but it was going to be a memorable one, that was for sure.

After a beat of silence, Kirari began to laugh. Sayaka smiled beneath the hand she had brought up to her lips.

“So now what happens?” (Y/n) asked, feeling a bit smug for finding some kind of loophole in the gamble, until- “MMPH!”

Kirari’s lips met (Y/n)’s fervently and just as quickly as she descended, she pulled back just a hair to speak, her lips brushed against (Y/n)’s now quivering ones with each word. “That’s the best part, (Y/n),” Kirari paused for a kitten lick at the corner of (Y/n)’s lips, “You see, we had discussed what we would do if you had decided to play us both in our original gamble. Since Sayaka and I have both won, we choose what we will do together, the three of us, and you will pay.”

“What!?” (Y/n) felt sweat slide down her cheek, swearing she could hear it sizzle out once it came into contact with the heated flesh. Her tongue darted out of her mouth of its own volition to taste the tacky flavor of the blue lipstick residue Kirari had left on her lips. Kirari was going to kiss her like that and then try to pull a fast one on her like that? “You can’t do that! That was the previous gamble! The rules changed when you presented this new version of it to me!”

“Perhaps you should have asked me what would happen in the event of a tie then. I had decided your punishment would be for me to withhold the trivial information about ties.” Kirari smirked, running her fingers through (Y/n)’s hair. “If it makes you feel any better, your solution was still a bit of a surprise. We had only accounted for you kissing each of us behind the other’s back, not kissing us at the same time. Had you tried to be secretive in your advances, Sayaka and I would have had a lovely night to ourselves at your expense.”

“Oh that’s such—!” (Y/n)’s jaw was pulled to the side and her lips were captured by someone else. This kiss was much softer, and lasted a tad longer. When Sayaka pulled back

(Y/n) had forgotten how she was going to cuss out Kirari, which was probably a blessing.

“I know it was an absolute mess to get to this point, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m so glad Midari came up with that idiotic gambling event.” Sayaka smiled, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s arm.

“Yes, this has been quite the interesting development. I’m looking forward to seeing how this turns out,” Kirari added, speaking more as if this was a science experiment rather than a major change in a relationship dynamic with not just (Y/n), but Sayaka as well.

“You two are so fucking weird.” (Y/n) laughed breathlessly, swinging an arm around both of them to hug them close, “You’re both lucky I like you guys so much.”

“You’re lucky you piqued my interest or you would find yourself as a house pet before you could say mittens.” Kirari easily replied.

“Get along you two. Can we not just enjoy the moment?” Sayaka sighed.

“Are we not getting along? I thought we were doing just fine.” Kirari asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Sorry Sayaka.” (Y/n) apologized sheepishly, hesitantly resting her cheek on the top of Sayaka’s head.

The door to the council room clicked open and Sayaka and (Y/n) startled and moved away from their little group huddle.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Kirari smirked as she watched her sister come in and close the door behind her. “Look Ririka,” Kirari spoke, a hint of excitement audible in her tone as she pulled Sayaka and (Y/n) back to her body, “I’ve got two girlfriends. That’s 200% more girlfriends than you possess.”

Ririka rolled her eyes beneath her mask. “Godspeed, (L/n)-san.”

“You always tell me how unconventional-“

“The word I used was convoluted.” Ririka interjected, (Y/n) snorted.

“But it obviously works,” Kirari continued on, not at all discouraged, “if you need me to set you and Saotome up with something I’ll gladly offer you my expertise.”

“Entirely unnecessary. Besides, if Mary so much as smelled you anywhere near the vicinity of where we were, she wouldn’t be happy about it to say the least.”

“Have it your way, dear sister,” Kirari  shrugged, looping her arms with Sayaka and (Y/n)’s, “we three have much to discuss for our outing tomorrow so we’ll be on our way. I’ll see you when you decide to come home.” Ririka waved dismissively while Kirari guided Sayaka and (Y/n) out the large double doors.

“But, election gambles!” Sayaka’s reminder went ignored.

“Wait, sisters?” Ririka heard (Y/n) ask as the trio left the room and she shook her head. Ririka’s phone buzzed and she checked the text and smiled.

3:32pm

Mary: Hey dumb dumb, done talking to evil incarnate yet? I’d like to get to that movie before the previews start.

3:32pm

Ririka: omw <3️🏻

***

Saturday came and (Y/n) prayed for her bank account. She was far better off financially than a scholarship student, but she wasn’t Momobami level rich. She still couldn’t believe she had to pay after all of that nonsense. She waited outside of her house, casually dressed as per Sayaka’s instructions. When a familiar sleek, black car pulled up to her she got in and was warmly greeted by her dates.

“Alright,” (Y/n) smiled nervously, “what have you two decided on for today?”

“We’re going to drive to the ocean, have lunch at a lovely local bistro, and then walk along the beach. Isn’t that right Kirari?” Sayaka leveled a look at Kirari that screamed no funny business.

“Yes,” Kirari sighed, “I wanted to go to the moon again, but Sayaka wouldn’t agree to it.”

“T... to the moon, again.” (Y/n) slowly parroted. She turned to Sayaka and shared her gratitude to the secretary with a light kiss on the cheek and a whispered thanks for rescuing her trust fund.

Lunch was great, a lovely view of the ocean from the outdoor deck they were dining on. They shared bites of their meals together, talked and laughed. They had a wonderful time and (Y/n) was surprised by the normalcy she felt sitting there with Kirari and Sayaka.

Then they walked on the beach, feeling the sand squish and grind between their toes. (Y/n) carried both hers and Sayaka’s shoes with one hand while the other was entangled with Sayaka’s fingers. Sayaka’s other hand was held by Kirari as the lightly swung their hands with each step. Eventually they slowed down and found a nice place to sit for awhile and watch the waves with some ice cream from a nearby vendor. After their rest, they continued walking along the shore, looking for neat shells and rocks.

As the sky turned pink, they watched how the sun seemed to get swallowed by the sea and they took that as their sign to start heading back home. They made their way back up to the nearest sidewalk where their driver was already waiting for them and piled into the car, giggling and recapping their favorite moments of the day.

They were about halfway home when Sayaka fell asleep. The car being as spacious as it was, allowed for the secretary to be maneuvered so that her head rested in (Y/n)’s lap and Kirari could move to sit on (Y/n)’s other side to leave room for Sayaka’s legs. Kirari and (Y/n) continued to talk quietly together. (Y/n) yawned, prompting Kirari to pull (Y/n)’s head into her chest.

“Sleep,” Kirari soothed, cool fingers rested against (Y/n)’s hairline, “I’ll wake you upon our arrival.”

(Y/n) nodded against Kirari’s chest and dozed off. Allowing the smooth motions and gentle whirring sounds of the car, as well as the even beats of Kirari’s heart, to lull her to sleep.

Kirari watched the blurred city lights come into view from the far window of the car. Her left hand lightly massaged (Y/n)’s scalp while her right held Sayaka’s. The younger girl had a cute habit of sleeping with her hands near her face, sometimes going as far to completely cover her nose and mouth. Kirari often wondered how she could even breathe like that. Kirari chuckled quietly and raised Sayaka’s hand to her lips, giving a kiss before lowering it again gently, the movement stirred Sayaka, but ultimately she remained asleep, snuggling further into (Y/n)’s lap.

Next, she rested her face in (Y/n)’s hair, inhaling the newer scent that seemed to compliment her own and Sayaka’s so well. She could really get used to this. Kirari pressed a kiss in (Y/n)’s hair. Kirari didn’t receive a reaction, but she simply chalked that up to be due in part by the stress of the week wrecking (Y/n)’s sleep schedule.

Kirari would have felt regret for having to wake them both, if not for the fact that she was excited to see their sleepy, grumpy faces staring bleary eyed at her. It was far too cute.

“This isn’t my house?” (Y/n) mumbled tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

“You disclosed earlier that your household is empty most weekends. Sayaka’s and my own are much the same. It will be nice not to have to spend the rest of the night alone, will it not?”

“I guess, but I’ll probably pass out as soon as I touch a pillow.” (Y/n) shivered as the cool night air hit her body. Sayaka, who was also too tired to function, latched on to (Y/n) in an attempt to keep warm.

“That’s the plan, now please, come in.”

If (Y/n) wasn’t so exhausted she would freak out at the vastness of Kirari’s estate. They got into a freaking elevator at one point and then kept walking down the grand corridor passing door after door, until they finally stopped at one and Kirari ushered them inside. Large fish tanks framed the walls, painting the dark room in a soft blue, ambient light.

Kirari guided (Y/n) and Sayaka to the bathroom to brush their teeth and to just get ready to sleep comfortably in general. Sayaka already had her own toothbrush there and scrubbed at her teeth with her eyes drooping shut.

“Don’t forget to take out your contacts.” Kirari reminded her softly before opening a nearby cabinet to supply (Y/n) with a toothbrush of her own. (Y/n) never would have dreamed the girl who came up with the house pet system could be so gentle.

The three girls brushed their teeth and washed their faces. Then they changed into some pajamas that Kirari had provided and made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed lay. A bed that probably could sleep a family of five comfortably.

Kirari pulled back the covers and crawled in. Sayaka was quick to follow and was unusually demanding, curling into Kirari while also tugging (Y/n) in behind her. They snuggled into the silky sheets, holding each other close. (Y/n) had almost fallen back asleep before Sayaka sat up in bed with a cute, little frown on her face.

“Wait, goodnight kisses.”

(Y/n) almost laughed, simply believing Sayaka was too tired to filter her thoughts and desires, but the Kirari sat up as well

“I almost thought you had forgotten, Say-a-ka. Here,” Kirari pulled Sayaka in and gave her a short and sweet kiss that made the secretary hum happily.

“(Y/n),” Sayaka turned with an uncharacteristic pout, sleepy Sayaka was too cute, “come up, you too.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” (Y/n) sat up, allowing Sayaka to clumsily bump into her lips before the secretary fell back against the pillows, content.

“May I have one?” Kirari smirked, leaning over Sayaka’s body between them.

“You may.” (Y/n) had hardly gotten the words out before Kirari swooped in.

“Good night.” Kirari whispered, noting that Sayaka had already fallen back asleep.

“Good Night, Kirari.” (Y/n) smiled back as she wormed back under the covers to snuggle against Sayaka’s back. Kirari slipped back under the covers as well, draping an arm over Sayaka side and one of (Y/n)’s arms to rub them soothingly with her cool, soft skin.

Before long, Kirari and (Y/n) fell asleep along side Sayaka to the sound of bubbling water and the hum of the fish tanks surrounding them.

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 10 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok

length: 7.2k

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Egocentric to pray for a delay in sunrise, but you would do it for a fracture in time would serve well as a sanctuary for your dormant star; nonetheless, when night ends and day arrives, the sweet tears of midnight will vaporize into inexistence.

Night strings along irrationality in an overexposure of our deepest subconscious. At the deepest of troughs and under the darkest of skies, there, we lie more vulnerable and prone to false hope than ever, for last night is the ultimate testament to mankind’s greatest fear.

Emotions could have been running high, lethargy could have gotten the best of him, anything could have and would have shattered the boy of last night's scattered soul poorly taped into a fragile whole; ironically, however, it is exactly the spill of burdens and truths of the night to the attentive ears of a beholder, you, which had saved him from such atrocities.

So you prayed, prayed for dusk to drown dawn in an endless embrace with itself until the boy could finally relish in the long awaited night's rest, and yet, still, you feared the longer he slept in the comforts of superficial dreams, the stronger his demons would return; and so, with a heavy and anxious heart, you had found yourself trapped in your own double edged sword of a state—basking in his warm presence, shivering in your guilty conscience.

In the end, all is for naught when the peak of sun rays through the slit of the curtains showers upon your cheeks perched on the armrest of a couch.

Squinting, you groan in a groggy voice before regretfully slipping the first word which comes to mind.

“Hoseok?”

Your following silence meets its own reflection.

With stained efforts, your body slumps into the couch as your half awakened state scans through the room that remains perfectly untouched. The remnants of your memories recalls how you had somehow stumbled your way to the couch sitting beside the bed of your motel room, refusing to fall asleep just inches beside the boy in your bed; although, said boy remains nowhere to be seen as of now.

Heavy steps and rowdy mumbles muffled by the floor beneath convince your unwilling self to drag yourself off the couch, slipping the blanket you recall being gently draped over and tucked under you in your sleep last night to the floor. Matters of the previous night forgotten, your feet stumble its way to the bathroom, disregarding the perfectly folded and tucked sheets of where he should have been lying. A few splashes of cold water to your drowsy state are surprisingly enough to fully awaken you after a relatively nice albeit anxious night of rest; with alertness, however, floods the remembrance of him.

“Jimin!” you call out, weaving through the incoming crowd of camp attendees packing their bags. Catching sight of the rather petite boy chatting away with his usual friends, Taehyung and Jungkook, you take one final stride before urgently pulling off to the side.

“Hey, Y/N,” his eyes widen in confusion by the sudden greeting, “what’s up?”

“Do you know what’s going on with Hoseok? Did anything happen to him yesterday evening?” you blurt, pausing for a second until another thought comes to mind. “Oh, and what do you mean he wasn’t on patrol duty last night? Then what—” you stop abruptly when you realize Hoseok’s likely desire to keep things between you and him confidential “—who was on patrol?”

“...I was?” Jimin arches a brow. “Why? Did something happen? Is there something wrong with Hoseok?”

So he doesn’t know.

None of the boys know the real reason behind Hoseok’s reluctance to return��or at least the surface level of the seemingly endless depth to that facade of his.

“No,” you quickly deny, shaking your head and scanning the bustling entrance hall; as if innate, your line of sight naturally draws to the centripetal force of your Earth’s center.

“Then why—”

“—hey, I’ll catch up with you later, alright? I still have to pack my bags…” your voice trails along with your eyes which follow Hoseok as he glides from one side of the room across to the other. Hand drifting from Jimin’s shoulder, you gradually whirl around and follow the beckons of your heart akin to pearls under the sway of the ocean’s waves. “Hoseok!”

Body beneath your sway, Hoseok whirls around to face you with a quizzical look glancing down at the hand which grasps his arm.

“Yeah?” he asks gently, arching a brow at you when a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Is there something I can help you with, babe?”

Initially, you had approached him with the intent to confront him about last night. His behavior, his words, his burdens, you know he's hurt and there's nothing you want more than to help him, not to mention the unreasonable guilt stirring inside you for failing to tackle the situation efficiently then and there; but even despite the momentary shock of the return of that egotistical mien of his, it's impossible for you to see him the same way after witnessing his sheer vulnerability.

For once, you must be selfless. Push aside your wants for that of his own, because unbeknownst to you, his own needs became your wants somewhere along the irrevocable path of time.

“About last night…” you start and the crease above his brow only deepens. “I just… I'm sorry I didn't comfort you or ask you this earlier…” you prim and trace your hand along his arm to meet his hands. Peering up to meet his gaze, he flinches yet you refuse to turn a blind eye. “...”...but are you doing alright, Hoseok?”

“What…” he frowns and stiffens in place, “...do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” you clear your throat, shifting your weight, “are you okay? Is there anything you want or need to tell me? Or anyone? Because I just want you to know I'm always here to lend an—”

“—look, I don't know what you're rambling on about,” Hoseok chuckles, retracting his hands from yours to nonchalantly ruffle your hair before crossing his arms, “but all I recall from last night is a certain someone refusing to sleep on the same bed as me. I almost forgot I was dating the most pristine of the untainted.”

“...rambling on about?” you repeat in a mumble, frowning and shaking your head. “No, Hoseok, listen, when you mentioned dance and… and your passion for it, I didn’t know how to respond because you were actually opening up to me.”

Hoseok blinks blankly, deep breaths in and out as his chest rises higher and steadier with each puff before he equivocates, “Y/N, I don’t recall anything of such sorts, and even if they did happen, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Hoseok—” you pause when your voice fails you “—I’m not forcing you to talk about it, I just want you to know—”

“—Y/N,” he sternly articulates, gaze affixing to yours with impatience. “I have to help the others load their bags onto the charter, and from what I can tell,” his eyes scan you up and down as he chortles, “don’t you have to go pack your things? So if you don’t have anything else important to say, your boy has important matters to attend to.”

The crowd migrates in clutters from the lobby to the coach parked right outside, only adding to the urgency for you to get your point across; but when you recall the events of last night, how he had so defensively proclaimed to abide by the duties of his role as the dance captain, you come to the epiphany that you really are just another roadblock in his tracks at this very moment. So, naturally, you step aside with a short bob of your lowered head.

The boy chuckles softly at your surrender, taking one large stride to enclose the gap between him and you and stroking your cheeks just briefly until the warmth of his touch subsides to his sides. “And about last night… I’m sorry if my stay made you uncomfortable. I think I was just… a bit tipsy.

Clearly, he was sober, but you’re reluctant to further the discussion without the right time and place.

“Don’t look so sad or I can’t bring myself to leave you here,” he laughs bittersweet chords to the pluck of your heartstrings, especially when you notice the lack of effort in his disingenuous grin as he crosses his arms. “Come to think of it, I seem to neglect my duties as the captain whenever I’m around you, huh? Maybe we should be more cautious of our relationship around others, don’t you think?”

In one ear, out the other; more often than not, his incessant teasing would elicit a snide remark from your intolerant state, but after the events of last night, nothing seems to be the same. Rather, his own flirtations are now construed to be poor fruitions to mask the pleas crying yet buried beneath.  

“Sorry for bothering you,” you press your lips into a thin line, “let’s talk more later.”

An immediate downturn of his lips tugs at your heavy chest, but never-minding his equivocal language, you turn away and depart to your room in deep pondrance.

Just what could you do to help the real Hoseok?

But who really is Hoseok? And did you ever come to know him?

Rather, did he?

-

Life truly has its own quirky way of doing things. One second you’re debating between the absurd albeit enticing offer in the kitchen of your house and the next second you’re already packing up your clothes on a journey bound for home.

Piles upon piles upon piles, the abundance of snacks and clothes you had brought but failed to utilize drives you to your wit’s end before you finally toss the last pair of shorts into your luggage, let out a loud, cathartic sigh, and jump into the comforts of your bed.

In reality, this position with your face buried in the depths of your pillow and your arms and legs sprawled across the soft cotton sheets would spell for doom had the occasion of falling asleep and missing the departure of your only ride home, especially since Hoseok doesn’t appear to be in his right mind nor favorable towards you against his prioritized club members enough to catch the one insignificant, missing member; fortunately for you, a good night of rest stirs you awake and incapable of slumber… plus, it turns out someone other than the names of Hoseok seeks for your attention.

Ring, ring, your phone’s vibration tunnels across the pillow to your ears.

Was Jimin asking for your assistance? Or was he wondering about the origins of your odd question earlier this morning? Could it perhaps be a message from the boys you had met and exchanged number with during camp?

Regardless of the myriad predictions, there really is only one thing that’s set in stone: it can’t possibly be Hoseok, because as much as it pains you to admit, you’re the last thing he wants to contact at this moment…

...and to your dismay, you’re right, but what really debunks your seemingly accurate theories is the name glaring from your brightly lit phone screen.

Unknown [2:06 PM] Hey, Y/N. This is Keiko. I was wondering if you have time to chat with me over dinner tonight when you return?

Straight to the point, but still lacking in details.

You can’t quite believe your eyes when they incessantly glide across the word ‘Keiko.’

What could she possibly want from you? After her ambiguous request for you during the last and only time you had interacted with the ex dance captain, you had never expected to hear from her again; in fact, to be quite frank, you had nearly forgotten about her… you had nearly forgotten Hoseok’s relations with her.

A past unrequited love? A past relationship gone wrong?

The endless possibilities tug at your chest in the familiar weighty burden you had so carelessly forgotten in the past month. You’re not exactly sure why the blur of a mystery regarding Hoseok’s relationship with Keiko pains you so, but the panic rising in your beating chest at this very moment is surely elicited by the fear of what this “conversation” could entail.

Slamming your luggage shut, you do a quick scan around your room and grab your last leftovers, but before you could roll your suitcase completely out the doorway, the sway of an unknown force rooted deep in the room keeps you from doing so; and when you glance over your shoulder to assure yourself not to linger any longer, you arrive at the epiphany of reasons residing beneath your reluctance to depart.

Because lying there on the now nicely made up bed is a couple, one asleep and one vigilant, both too vulnerable, too wary to let down their walls against the dangers of the dimming lights and the emerging night.

The longer you stand there watching, the more vividly you recall the subtle glint of his eyes—begging or pleading, you’re unsure—and your sealed lips incapable of appropriate assurance akin to a stuck zipper deserving neither the label of new nor broken; and before you know it, the desire to set things right with Hoseok rises once again within the pits of your wrenching gut.

“Y/N!” you flinch when a voice hollers at you from down the hall, causing the door to slam shut with the absence of your jutting foot. Whirling around, you find Jimin jogging towards you. “I was looking everywhere for you! We’re basically almost all ready to go in ten minutes or so and Hoseok noticed you’ve been missing for a while now, so he told me to find you.”

“Oh—” so he did remember about you “—hey, how did Keiko get my number?”

“Huh?” your peripherals catch his eyes widening into circular orbs when the two of you begin heading down the flight of stairs and he gasps in remembrance. “Oh! She asked me for your number this morning. Why? Did you not want me to? Did she text you?”

“No, that’s...” you quickly answer until your words are interjected by the sight of Hoseok standing alone in the lobby and it’s like the force field of his prevents you from moving your gaze elsewhere, “...totally fine…”

“...do you need to talk to Hoseok?” Jimin asks but proceeds to grab your luggage and head down the stairs before you. He glances over his shoulder at you and nods his head at the figure your eyes struggle to keep off of. “Here, I’ll load your bags onto the bus and you take the next ten minutes to talk it out.”

“What?” you quickly frown and shake your head, attempting to grab the bags from him in vain, “no, it’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about anyways.”

“You won’t have a chance to talk to him again anytime soon after this,” Jimin utters under his breath, gaze firmly affixed to yours. “He looks dead tired. This camp took much more of a toll on him than usual. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling he won’t be hanging around with us much after this.”

Us? Does that include you?

The thought is all too daunting, you simply can’t fathom the thought of Hoseok dropping from your life without a single word or warning; because the scariest thing is… it’s much too real, too similar to something Hoseok would do.

Just. Like. That.

“Okay… I’m sorry,” you regretfully mumble, “I promise I’ll treat you and the boys to dinner someday.”

“Nah,” Jimin chuckles and heads off on his own, “bringing him back here is already enough of a favor for us.”

Gulp. Breathe. In. Out.

His words should be reassuring, yet you find them wrenching at your heart.

Is this really for the better?

Was bringing him here really the right choice, when at the end of the night, you just know Hoseok must be crawling back into the cold embrace of his mattress, shivering from what he can’t even call home, whimpering from the throbbing pain of every inch of his body and the nightmare of a camp’s threshold.

Maybe you had inflicted more pain than cure.

“...Hoseok?”

Your voice stutters amidst the thick silence of the air as you hesitantly take one step and other towards the one boy at the end of the hall, Hoseok.

Turning around, Hoseok spots you and simply arches a brow; the dark purple bags beneath the void in his eyes and the lack of vigor in comparison to his usual smug response to your calls plummet something deep within your stomach.

“Are you… done with everything?” you take one final step to enclose the distance between you two before uncomfortably hooking a hand over your right elbow and peering up at him, who gazes at you from above. “Can I help you in any way?”

Hoseok smiles gently and shakes his head, “no, everything is loaded and the camp ends here. I’m officially free of my duties as a captain and you’re officially free from that bet of ours.”

“What bet?” you let out without a thought, mind too preoccupied with the real question which loiters in your mind: why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye to me?

“The bet we made in your kitchen,” he cocks his head and flashes a crooked smile, “a euphoric kiss for your attendance at camp.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot I wasn’t an actual member of this club…”

He grins, “and I almost forgot I wasn’t the captain of this club anymore.”

Please don’t say that.

“Hoseok…” your voice nearly cracks, eyes averting to the side in fear of impending waterworks, “I know you don’t want to talk about last night—”

“—then why are you bringing it up,” he deadpans, jaw tightening with the grinding of his teeth.

“I just…” you shake when you take a breath, “I just want to lend an ear. I think it would be helpful for you to let it all out.”

“Or do you just want to fulfill your own curiosities at the expense of my own requests?”

“What?” you immediately peer up at the sharp edges of his eyes with your own wide ones. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry… I just wanted to help…”

Silence floods the stagnating air and you’re nearly drowned with it—but not nearly as close as the effect his next words has on you.

“...can you stop prying?” he finally utters. “Can you stop mentioning it? I’m a player, don’t you remember? I only started all of… all of this because I was curious. I was intrigued by you only for a second because for once a girl wasn’t fawning over me like the rest.”

His confession plucks at your heartstrings, but your most pressing concerns lies elsewhere beyond your own state; when will he finally confide in you?

Hoseok grabs your shoulders and lightly shakes you, whether as a plea or an attempt to garner your divided attention, you’re unsure of. “I started all of this because of a dare, remember, Y/N?” his voice sounds all too desperate for you to bear. “So don’t fall too hard. Stop burying yourself into my mess and just play along without worrying, okay?”

“I don’t,” you mutter before clearing your voice and swatting his hands off you, “I don’t care, Hoseok! I don’t care how invested I am, because it’s already too late for me to back out and I don’t want to back out! I care about you, can’t you just accept that?”

Can’t you just accept me?

“Don’t you get it?” he groans, pacing in frustration. “I don’t want any help! I don’t need help. Don’t pry into my own business and stop asking Jimin and Taehyung or any of the boys about me. Get it over your head and stop investing so much time in me before you realize just how you right you were that night on our first date when you called me out on being an ass!”

The words echo along with your stunned silence. You had never seen Hoseok so infuriated before, and for the first time in a long while, you’re scared.

You’re scared he’ll drown in his own demons without your help.

You’re scared your own help will turn out to be a manifestation of your own wants over his own needs.

You’re scared the boy you love and care for isn’t the passionate captain you knew nor the renowned heartthrob around school but a enmity completely unknown.

Mostly, you’re scared because fear is the last thing you thought you would ever experience in the wake of Hoseok.

And maybe you’re too transparent or perhaps his words truly did hurt you to the point where even he could decipher, but your entire body language reclines—your eye glued to the floor, your head ducked in shame, and your body facing slightly askew—and Hoseok quickly reaches his hand out in aid.

From the top of your head down to the nape of your neck and to the stroke of your cheek, the cup of his hand brings you a step closer to him until he places a chaste kiss to your temple and retracts himself from you once again.

“Just stop worrying about me, okay? That’s the only way we can keep this…” he struggles to find the right words as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your right ear. The boy takes a deep breath and neither a sigh nor a chuckle descends from his barely parted lips, for all you hear is a weighty pant crafted of obligations. “...this thing we have going on between us. We’ll both be better of that way, alright? Even if it’s ignorant to do so. I just don’t want us to end.”

Physically, his voice drifts into the foreign wind which sweeps your grasp of time shortly afterwards; but you hear him loud and clear within the resonance of your heart, for his actions speak louder than words.

You don’t expect him to greet you, not to mention even sitting within your vicinity on the ride back… but he does. In moments when you avoid all eye contact the second his foot sets weight onto the bus, shifting towards the windows by your seat and wishing with every ounce of your will for your rather isolated choice of seating and lack of friends to go unnoticed; but he reads you like an open book. With footsteps skimming across the floor, soft yet firm enough to mark his ambitions, the boy beelines to the seat by your side. The lethargic timbre of his murmured “hey” elicits a prim response from you as he plops into the empty seat and fills the painfully heavy air of his absence.

The forecast predicts a dayful of sun, but you don’t quite realize until now, just how reliant you’ve become; for at some point in time, the sun has somehow become your everything.

You don’t expect him to spark any conversations—no, not after that discussion gone astray—and he doesn’t; but the watchful gaze of his, wandering from his chattering friends straight up ahead to eye occasional roll of your sore ankles, inquires more than you could ask for. In fact, it doesn’t take very long for his desires to bloom into fruition when, the next thing you know, he gently lifts your right leg to prop into the lap of his own and begins kneading the knots from your muscles.

“It’s fine,” you mutter through barely parted lips, attempting in vain to retract your leg when his hands firmly hold them in place.

“It’s your first bootcamp, isn’t it?” he continues to knead. “I remember how exhausted I was for my first camp. Just let me help you.”

His words sweep your own right off of your lips.

Glancing him up and down, the courage to speak doesn’t come to you until the charter enters a tunnel, blackening your sights from his soft brown hair, beautifully tan skin, and mustard tee.

“Can you stop playing around with me? Things like this mean so much more to me than what you’re asking for from us.”

The boy doesn’t answer, instead, he pauses; and after a few seconds of silence, he persists to knead for a minute longer before letting down your leg once the tunnel ends and you’re blinded by the incoming flood of sun rays.

Incapable of sight in the bright sun after a long nap, the thought of Keiko’s text remains imprinted throughout your conscious. Weighing heavily in your hands, you grab your phone and swiftly jog off the bus on a mission to inquire advice from the rest of the boys.

While Hoseok lends a hand in unloading the endless stream of camp attendees hastily lining up to grab their bags and head on home, you find the rest of the boys standing in a semicircle, conversing away and responsibly keeping watch on the slowly dwindling crowd as members of the official performance unit.

“What’s crackin’, Y/N?” Jin questions, the group following suit as they peer at you with curious eyes.

“I just,” you glance around, particularly assuring yourself of Hoseok’s distant position before whirling around and proceeding in a hush, “I just wanted to ask you guys for some advice.”

Taehyung wiggles his brows, “you need some dating advice?”

“Ooh, for Hoseok?” Jungkook adds in.

“No, it has nothing to do with him, okay? Well, sort of,” you reach out your phone to show the text to a intrigued group of boys leaning in. “Keiko wants to meet up with me.”

“...okay?” Yoongi frowns at your lack of context.

“No, I mean, she wants to meet up with me and I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Hoseok. It’s literally the only reason she would know me or even talk to me.”

“But what’s so wrong with that?”

Jimin purses his lips at Yoongi’s remark, “you think Hobi would be okay with that? With us talking behind his back, especially to his former teacher? He doesn’t even tell us anything anymore, and we used to be his closest friends.”

“Yeah, so I don’t know what to do,” you shake your head. “I want to know what Keiko needs to tell me. I feel like it’s something important that might help Hoseok…”

“...but…”

“...but I’m scared I’m just taking advantage of Hoseok’s situation for the sake of my own curiosity. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him.”

The boys exchange glances at each other, because they, too, are as abandoned in the shadows as Hoseok had kept you, yourself.

Finally, Namjoon shifts his weight, a stance demanding attention and respect, before asking, “well, do you think Hoseok is going to get any better at this point?”

To be painfully honest, the truthful answer to his question would simply and brutally be a “no.” Just as Jimin had pointed out, Hoseok carries an even more lethargic, poignant mien in him than he had prior to camp. Maybe bringing him here really is a mistake, after all, because now he seems worse than ever before.

Without dance, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

“No, I doubt he’ll be hanging around us anytime soon,” Jimin quickly answers when he notices your downcast eyes. “I don’t think it’s just me when I say: right now, Hoseok despises dance.”

Hoseok. Despises. Dance.

You never thought those three words could ever coexist.

“Then I don’t think there’s any harm in meeting with Keiko,” Namjoon elaborates. “Yes, you might be butting into someone else’s business, but from what I can tell, Hoseok isn’t just ‘someone’ to you and you aren’t just ‘someone’ to him. If you’re doing it out of good intentions, I doubt he would hold it against you for—”

—his words are cut short when everyone in the group removes their eyes off of you and darts to someone from behind you. Suddenly, a heavy arm slings over your shoulders and the rough edge of his masked voice echoes in your right ear.

“Hey, what’s with all the long face?” Hoseok feigns a laugh after glancing at you. “What’re we going on about this time?”

Rather than his untimely presence, it’s his nonchalant performance of swinging his arms over your shoulders which catches your infuriated attention. Not only is he lying to himself, yourself, and his closest friends, but now he’s acting as if he owns you, as if you two were an actual couple, as if he didn’t just tell you to your face that your relationship meant nothing more than leisure to him.

“Why do you care so much about my mood? Actually, why do you pretend to care so much?” you rebuke in spite, pushing off his hands and relishing in the sudden downturn of his lips and furrowed brows. “I thought we weren’t a thing. You told me not to be attached, so why don’t you follow your own advice?”

Your curtly remarks evoke worried albeit curious glances from the boys, but all you care about is the fury boiling under Hoseok’s poor attempt at suppressing with a smirk.

“That’s more like it,” he smugly grins, cocking his head and raising his hands defensively, “the more you push me away, the more I’ll fall. Isn’t that what you want?”

As if.

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you shake your head and return your attention to boys before bidding them goodbye and walking off without another word to Hoseok.

There isn’t any reason nor thing for you to stay around Hoseok for, and neither does he for you; he doesn’t run after you and he doesn’t even attempt to explain himself nor demand an explanation, because to him, you simply aren’t worth the effort.

To him, you’re just a simple text away.

Hoseok, my beloved [6:56 P.M.] Well played. Let’s keep things that way.

-

Clink, clink, the glasses of wine tipping against its own fills the rather lavish room you hadn’t expected nor asked to be seated in; and while others hold their own in formal gowns and suits, you sit uncomfortably across Keiko decked out in sweatpants and a messy bun from lack of time between departure and arrival.

Dressed in a sleek black blouse and dangling earrings, Keiko remains the classy woman you had met the first time around; to others, you must seem like a child next to her.

The only perk you could scavenge from your ostracized self is having your expensive dinner, sure to empty your wallet along with college tuitions, paid by a responsible, full-time employed adult.

“So,” she takes a sip from her glass of wine, “how’re you doing?”

“He’s doing…” you quickly respond before stuttering, “a-alright.”

To your surprise, Keiko chuckles a sultry laugh as ripened as red wine. “I was asking about you, not Hoseok; but I guess you have some sort of a guess as to why I called you here, and to be completely honest with you, you’re right.”

“Oh… sorry...” you mumble, eyes wide and enraptured by her poise. “I, um, hope it’s not inappropriate of me to ask this, but why are you asking me and not the boys?”

Keiko cocks her head as if the answer was obvious enough, “because you're the closest one to him right now, are you not?”

“Emotionally? No… physically? Not really,” you frown, especially when she just chortles at you.

“Well, that's what I've deduced from what the boys have told me.”

“They told you about me?” your eyes immediately widen in panic, because for some odd reason, you want to at least appear somewhat decent from someone as respectable as Keiko; and it isn't a competition between you and her in vie for Hoseok’s attention, it's the elegant way she holds herself which has earned your utmost respect. “What… did they say?”

“Oh, nothing too much,” she chuckles with a shrug. “Don't worry, I have other reasons for my deduction.”

The vague answer intimidates you from inquiring further as your gaze becomes affixed to the empty plate splattered with leftover sauce from the now ingested steak. Instead of probing at you to answer her question, she allows you to recollect yourself and your state of mind in silence; and eventually, you do, for your train of thoughts stumble over the real reason you had agreed to this meeting tonight.

“About Hoseok…” you start, eyes lifting to meet Keiko’s, her brows raising to encourage you further. “He's still… reluctant to dance. I don't think he had the best time at camp.”

“Really? Spring boot camp was always his favorite time of the year,” she prims, but all you can do is sigh in a mix of awe and regret, wondering just how much more she knows about Hoseok than you do him. “Well, do you plan on helping him still?”

Helping him? Does she not know about his injury? Hoseok’s voice reverberates in your mind—stop prying—for a remark both raw and real is all too painful to hear and to forget.

It isn't your business neither is it your secret to reveal, especially not to someone he must hold so dearly—in both respect… and love.

“I don't get it…” you stealthily tiptoe around the subject. “Why aren't you helping him? You're much closer to him than I am. I can't do much… we're just acquaintances. It's not like we're dating.”

Your question elicits a loud intake of breath followed by a sigh as she reclines into her seat and crosses her legs, “because I can't.”

'What do you mean…?”

Her fingers begin to play with the glass of wine, swirling the drink round and round and creating whirlpools in the tips of her sleek red nails.

“Are you aware of Hoseok’s main reason for his hiatus?”

Sneakers squeaking and machine buzzing, collapse.

“Well, I can't because…”

Your line of sight subconsciously travels to your leg where you can practically see Hoseok's own, swelling and throbbing as you clutch it in plain just like he had on the blackest of nights.

Keiko looks you straight in the eye.

“...because I'm the one who caused his injury.”

Injury. His injury. Keiko. She caused it.

How did any of this make sense?

“Wait, what? Are you sure?” your brows cinch in confusion. “Maybe he… he…”

Your voice trails to nothing. What else could have evoked someone to blame themselves over something so horrid other than the truth itself?

“I pushed him too far,” she says after a long sigh, staring at the swirl of wine in her delicate fingers. “I was training him into a captain capable of handling anything that would come at him, be it pressure or stress, he has the potential to be the best we've ever had… I don't know if it was me or him and his own expectations which pushed him too far, too fast, but he crumbled.”

If you knew the old and new Hoseok correctly, the latter would be the valid reason. Hoseok pushed himself too far in the face of pressure.

And as much as you know the blame can't be held entirely by Keiko but Hoseok, himself, a part of you errs in the sudden impatience arising within you.

Crumble, she said.

The sun doesn't crumble, it sets.

“...weren't you watching over him…?” you frown at her.

“I did,” she simply nods. “He practiced day and night. There never was a single day when I entered or left the studio and Hoseok wasn't there. Sometimes I think the poor boy even slept in that sweaty old musty room.”

You let out a scoff under your breath, appalled. “And you didn't tell him to stop—”

“—you’re not a dancer, are you, Y/N? You think I can tell someone to stop doing what they love, what they’re so passionate in? You think we have it easy? That talent and a few hours a week are enough to make up for what we lack? You think he would listen to me if I told him to stop? I thought you knew him well,” Keiko rebukes, calm but reprimanding enough for you to wince. “Being a captain requires you to put in time and stress and pressure just comes with it. And even despite that, yeah, sometimes I do wonder if I was asking for too much. If he or I had said something, if he had quit a bit earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

“Quit?” you articulate, narrowing your eyes at her. “I don’t have to be a dancer to know that trying to prevent an injury isn’t quitting.”

“You sound like every other person who begged me to stop when I was training to become the captain myself,” Keiko chuckles, lips pressing into a thin, curved line. “I handled the pressure. I bore all the stress. I conquered it all and I thrived, Y/N, and you and I both know how talented Hoseok is. If I could do it, he most definitely could, too. I don’t know what got to him, but something did.”

“Not everyone’s body works the same…” your words become muffled by your own lips.

“Oh?” she laughs. “You almost sound like you know him better than I have in the past four years.”

Past four years? It’s almost certain they share a history together. Your gut instincts painfully tell you so.

“Anyways, I’m not here to argue with you, Y/N. I apologize if I stepped over the line just now,” her hand reaches for yours over the table and she smiles. “I get it. To you guys, us dancers seem reckless, and I admit it, we go overboard sometimes. That’s why we, especially Hoseok, need people, like you, by our sides to tell us when enough is enough.”

Her gaze sees right through you and there’s nothing you could do other than avert your eyes to the side to prevent her from reading through your transparency. It feels like she’s telling you something, hinting at an implication, but you just can’t quite get it.

You can’t read her like she or even Hoseok does to you.

“If his injury really is the reason behind his hiatus, then why hasn’t he tried to recover? Or,” you nearly choke on your own gasp, “has… he?”

“As much as I seem to know him, Y/N, I actually can’t answer that question. I really don’t know,” she sighs. “Even I’m surprised. I thought he would bounce back. He truly loved dance. He loved it to death… but maybe he never did. I don’t know if I overestimated him. I was hoping you would know. He won’t let me anywhere near him now.”

Of course not, you bite your tongue. As much as you admire Keiko for her sheer willpower, her constant disregard for Hoseok’s well-being and even questioning his passion irks you the wrong way.

“So,” she softly utters, holding your hand to avert your gaze back to hers, “can you help me, Y/N?”

Stop prying, his voice echoes; even your deepest conscience knows Hoseok doesn’t want you to help.

“Why would I do that? We’re not close or anything. I’ll be sticking my nose into someone else’s business.”

Your remark elicits a slight scoff of disbelief from Keiko as she grins at you with furrowed brows.

“Don’t you like him? Don’t you like Hoseok, I mean?”

“W-What?” you immediately shake your head. “No, I don’t know what makes you think that or whatever the boys told you, but even if I wanted to help, I can’t.”

“Oh, but I think you can,” she leans back into her seat and crosses her arms before turning to glance out the window displaying the black silhouette of the cityscape. “In fact, you’re the only one who can. At the rate Hoseok is going, I don’t think he’ll ever return to the dance scene… but you can change that.”

Everyone seems to have expectations from you, but it doesn’t matter when the person in need of help himself refuses your aid.

But you want to help him, even if that means he won’t ever dance again.

You’ve come to realize, through trial and error, all you could wish for him is bliss.

“...what makes you think that?”

“I promise I’m not doing this to gain your favor or try to persuade you, but,” she turns away from the window and leans into the table with a smile, “I’ve seen the look in his eyes when he mentions you.”

“But… but I thought…”

...I thought you never met up with him before after his injury, is what you meant to say, but the rapid beats of your heart elicited by her confession prevents you from budging a single inch.

Maybe they really are dating and you’re just being toyed around by the both of them.

“I… I just have one question,” you blurt before your more rational self could talk you out of it; for once, you’re acting on impulse and ego, but perhaps you deserve it after everything you’ve been through for the sake of him. It’s time you do something for yourself. “...did you and Hoseok ever have a relationship?”

Keiko arches both brows at you in surprise, “a relationship?”

“As in… have you two dated before?”

Silence ensues as she ponders for a few seconds and smiles, a soft chuckle drifting from her lips, “and what would you say if I said yes? Would you dislike me? Would you not do me this favor?”

Immediately, your heart sinks and something in your stomach drops.

Ah, so it’s a yes; crestfallen for reasons unknown, you begin collecting your things.

“I’ll think about it because I want to make sure this does Hoseok more good than it does me or any of us waiting for him to take the stage again,” standing up, you continue, looking her straight in the eye, “and I’m not doing this for you because I don’t appreciate the way you demean Hoseok and his own health and efforts.”

“Then who are you doing this for?”

You frown; isn’t the answer obvious enough?

“Hoseok.”

A wide grin spreads across her lips from ear to ear as she suppresses a giddy smile, quickly grabbing your hand and squeezing it firmly, “thank you, Y/N. Really, thank you. I mean it when I say you’re the only one who can bring him out of his darkest times. I’m counting on you.”

Gradually and hesitantly, you nod, slowly turning your back on the exit to make your way out the way you made it in.

Step by step, they gain momentum until you find yourself marching out of the restaurant on a mission to brew a storm in search of the world’s ends, for the hidden sun is long due for its rise.

[blackbat05]

Jumping in head first

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: This was actually written before the others but not sure why I put it at the back. Been writing a bit more platonic imagines but I always welcome a different interpretation when you read it! To give a bit of context, reader is also an Avenger but she joined later and Shangqi is like the older protective brother? Because I just think that trope is neat. Anyways, hope this idea of mine is engaging as it was in my mind and as always, like and comment if you wish! Appreciate the support! 

Genre: PG 13

Warning: Profanity, blood, the usual when I attempt to write an action sequence? 

A gunshot rang throughout the department store. Shit. You were still in there. Shangqi races inside, battling against the throngs of shoppers who were desperately trying to get out.

You lifted the little boy up, sprinting away from the sound with all your might. Think (y/n), you tell yourself. Frantically gazing around the deserted store, you decided to hide the boy in a changing room that was neatly tucked in a corner. You removed your jacket, wrapping it around the boy. How nice, you and Shangqi had decided to go to the nearby mall to grab burgers from the new burger joint that had opened before heading to the Avengers compound to train and this had to happen. 

‘Hey… hey, don’t be afraid ok? I’ll make sure to come back for this.’ You tried to assure the poor boy. It seemed to do the trick as he managed to calm down. Shutting the door, you peeked out into the open to make sure the coast was clear. You had to direct attention away from this floor. As you turned left to the now stationary escalator, you saw a mannequin at the children’s section. Perfect.

You pushed the mannequin down the escalator, resulting in a large crash the level below. That was going to leave some lasting damage. ‘Someone’s downstairs!’ You could hear the pairs of heavy boots going down to the second level. Good. Now you just needed to see how many assholes were there to carry out your attack. Making sure to keep a safe distance, you went into a crouching position behind a wall, whipping out your phone camera.

Two… Four… Five of them. You were pretty tall yourself but these guys had boulders for bodies. You were starting to think if this plan of yours was just straight up reckless. Before you could decide on your next move, a hand clamps on your shoulder, bringing you down. ‘What the-oomph! Shangqi!’ You gasp. ‘The hell you doing here?’

‘Saving your ass clearly! What were you thinking?’ Shangqi glances up to see the assailants before turning to look at you. ‘The boy’s safe. I managed to get him out. We can engage freely. But minimum damage please.’

You rolled my eyes at him, ‘Says the guy who caused a bus to be chopped in half.’

‘You know that wasn’t me!’ He hisses back. Ignoring the noise of indignation he made, you scanned the area again. It was as if higher beings were looking out for the two of you, only two of the assailants remained while the rest spread themselves out within the level. The both of you were thinking the same thing - you and him and to take down each assailant within record time to prevent any unwanted attention.

Signing to Shangqi, the both of you treaded carefully down the escalator, each taking a side of the walkway surrounding a store selling prams. You signaled to him using your fingers. On three, strike immediately. Three…two…one!

You launched at the unsuspecting man in front of you, knocking him off balance. Before he could react, I wrapped myself around his left leg, forearms surrounding his ankle in a tight grip. ‘Don’t move unless you want to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life boy.’ The masked assailant whimpers, quickly taking of his mask. He was no more than 16. ‘Alright, I surrender! Please don’t hurt me!’

I stare hard at him. He reminds me to much of the kids that I volunteer with at the shelter. What is his story? ‘Fine, tell me who’s your boss and why is he making you do this?’

‘I swear, for real - I don’t know. All I know is that some guy in a suit and sunglasses came to me and my friends and offered us a heck load of cash if we help to pull of some heist.’

I turn to Shangqi as if hoping the had some answers which he did. Being an Avenger didn’t just consist of battling a genocidal titan. It also meant that they were spread out across the country, lending a hand to the local police. ‘It’s probably the local gangs crawling around Chinatown. They gets kids like them to do heist like these and use the money to fund illegal activities.’ 

‘What kind?’

‘You don’t want to know,’

‘What kind,’ I emphasized again, not taking no for an answer. If kids like the boy were in danger, there needed to be something done. Shangqi sighs, ‘Drug smuggling, prostitution, organ harvesting. This is just the tip of the iceberg.’

My blood ran cold. Grabbing a rope from the mannequin donned in sports climbing gear, I tied the boy to the metal grills. ‘Don’t try anything funny.’

The two us proceeded to follow the remaining assailants. My brain was in overdrive, full of rage. ‘Can’t believe such lowlifes are allowed to run around San Francisco freely,’ I muttered under my breath, ‘don’t try to stop me.’ 

Shangqi ascends the steps of the escalator together with me, ‘Who said anything about stopping? Just try not to kill them okay? We still need them for interrogation.’ 

‘Can’t promise you that.’ 

Exactly an hour later, the two of us are standing together with a rookie officer who was taking Shangqi’s statement. I keep my eyes on the entrance where first responders were wheeling out stretchers of the injured. I happen to see the little boy who gave me a small wave in thanks. At least my injured shoulder was worth it. 

‘Fucking bitch!’ The last stretcher rolled out from the shopping mall with one of the assailants who was pointing furiously at me. ‘That bitch broke my ankle!’ 

I should have been shocked by the outburst and perhaps slightly embarrassed that tons of onlookers were staring at me. To my credit, it was the opposite - a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance at his behavior. My natural instincts were now controlling me. Striding towards his stretcher, I held a hand out to the medic to give me a minute before grabbing him by his bloodied shirt. 

‘Listen here you piece of shit,’ I kept my voice low to prevent any onlookers from picking up on the situation but loud enough for Shangqi to hear. ‘I’m willing to break more than just your ankle for what you did to those kids. You better spill everything to the police before I break more than just your ankle.’ To send my point across, my eyes playfully roamed down his body. He definitely left on the ambulance traumatized. 

‘Woah don’t burn me,’ Shangqi raises his hands playfully as he approaches me. ‘I don’t have to worry about you anymore huh?’ 

You rolled your eyes at him, ‘What can I say? I’m looking to outshine you one day!’

On cue, the same rookie officer bounds up to us, out of breath. ‘Mister uh-Shangqi, Miss Y/N, I just got another alert from my officer, there’s another attack in one of the financial buildings - we have reason to believe it’s the same group.’

We gave each other knowing looks. It was going to be a longer day than usual. ‘Well, the trip to the compound just got cancelled,’ Shangqi stretches his arms, as if gearing up for a boxing match.

‘Works for me, I have a lot to say to these assholes.’

‘Always jumping in head first huh?’

‘You know me too well!’

A/N: Wow! Legit came up with this during work hours so I’m not sure if my ending was ok? Hope you didn’t get bored reading up till here but if you did, thank you! It’s mid week and then I just have three more weeks left till this god damn placement ends. Until then, stay tuned! 

[reidyoulikeabook]

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading  you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.” 

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

[fandom-go-round]

Can I ask for an Obey Me! request? Where the brothers (if you dont want to do all of them then just whoever you feel like writing for) make casual comments about weight related things and they dont realize it upsets the plus size reader until later. like causal comments like "oh that's allot of food" and stuff like that. hurt /comfort please! love you!

Warnings: Fatphobia, Hurtful Comments about Reader’s Weight, Insecurities About Weight, Crying, Emotional Reactions

Mammon:

Mammon always has a way of sticking his foot in his mouth and this is no exception. You’re at a modeling job with him, waiting for him to finish up his shoot so you can go to dinner together. You had grabbed a large smoothie on the way over and are sipping as you watch, half curious about how modeling works and half checking him out. You’re almost done with the smoothie when he makes the comment, coming over to hang on a quick break.

“You’re not gonna need dinner at the rate you’re goin’!” There’s no malice in his voice but you freeze, eyes wide as you look to see if he really said what you thought he did. Mammon doesn’t notice, jogging back over to the set as his manager calls him over. The rest of your smoothie quickly goes into the trash and you spend the rest of the shoot looking at all of the models and cursing yourself; of course the Devildom values skinniness like Earth does.

It takes Mammon days to notice that he’s upset you, mostly because he’s too busy running the high of having money again. He does notice when you dip out of movie night and refuse to let him take you to dinner. Everything comes to a head when he barges into your room demanding an explanation and you’re crying.

He feels like absolute shit when you tell him what’s wrong. He blows off all your reassurances that you’re used to this and that you know he didn’t mean it. Weight isn’t an issue that Mammon has ever had to deal with but he does know about being teased and made fun of. He’s quick to beg your forgiveness and make things right. He becomes your number one supporter, buying you cute clothes and whatever you want to feel better. He’s quick to snarl at anyone who even makes a comment vaguely talking about weight in your direction. Mammon would support you if you wanted to lose weight but might pout a bit; he loves that you’re soft and have places for him to grab onto.  

 Leviathan:

Everyone knows that anime and manga have some of the most unrealistic women out there. That doesn’t stop people from being into it or loving 2D women more than real women. Being into anime before the Devildom had you prepared for this but Levi takes it to another level with Ruri-chan. You shouldn’t have been surprised by the comment but you would have thought Levi might be able to understand, considering his own insecurities.

“I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t want to look like Ruri-chan! She’s the perfect woman!” You’re mind takes it the way you’ve always taken comments like that: ‘perfect woman’ means thin. You make an excuse to leave quickly after that, Levi only half noticing as he goes into another rant.

He doesn’t understand why you keep avoiding talking to him! An episode of your favorite anime is out and you refuse to come watch it with him! It’s blasphemy! It takes him almost a week to work up to nerve to come to your room and demand answers. Levi is a stuttering mess but when he finally gets out what he wants to talk about you look away, seeming almost as embarrassed as he is.

Levi starts to spiral in the middle of your explanation, blaming himself for being a gross otaku and giving you these thoughts. He know anime expectations are unrealistic (it’s one of the reasons why he likes it) but its another to see it used to hurt people. Both of you end of crying and there’s a lot of frank talk about body image. It’s a good way to bond, even if it did happen for a crappy reason. Levi is more sensitive to what he says and tries to find anime with more diverse characters. He also starts trying to find more plus size hentai… not for any reason in particular though!! He just wants to make sure there is some, that’s all!

 Asmodeus:

Hanging out with Asmo can be a blessing and a curse. He’s beautiful and loves fashion and you love to go shopping with him. The downside to that is you have body negative days that tend to match up with Amo’s feeling great days. The shops in the Devildom are a lot like Earth’s; plus size store exist but they’re more expensive and harder to find. Asmo doesn’t fit into any of the stores you do and you never ask to go, not wanting to point out the obvious differences between the two of you.

“You really should take better care of yourself darling, just think of all the things that would look good on you if you did!” You freeze immediately at his words, dropping whatever you had been looking at like it burned you. Asmo had been watching you in the mirror, eyes trained on your hair and skin but all you could think of was your weight. That’s a harsh comment, coming from the Avatar of Lust and you have to resist the urge to burst into tears in the middle of the store.

He knows the moment you start holding back tears that he’s messed up but he has no idea what to do. He tries to explain himself but you wave him off just saying that ‘I’d like to go home now’. You both leave the store after that, heading back in silence. You quickly go to your room and skip dinner, making everyone interrogate him about what happened. Satan is the one who points out that it might be weight related and Asmo has to resist the urge to cry at the table.

He bursts into your room the next afternoon and forces you to get up. You were planning on staying in bed the entire day but he convinces you to have a spa day with him. You’re not mad at Asmo, just yourself. You know how vain he is so it shouldn’t have surprised you. Asmo, however, apologizes for the first ten minutes, practically begging you to forgive him. You have a conversation about dos and don’ts and Asmo takes it to heart, listening to you and trying to understand your struggles. After your spa day he surprises you by bringing out a mountain of outfits; he had run to some of the shops that fit you and got things! If there’s anything you hate it’s quick to disappear but he wants to pamper you and this is the best way he knows how.

 Beelzebub:

Beel loves hanging out with you because you love food like he does. Not to the same physical amount of course, but you’re always willing to try new things and go new places with him. Everyone knows that if there’s a new restaurant you and Beel (and sometimes Belphie) are going to be some of the first people in line. Just because you love to eat doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the things people say about the two of you. You just wouldn’t have thought that Beel would say anything.

"That’s a lot of food.” You freeze, looking up from your plate to look across the table. Beel’s eyes are locked on your plate and not his own, even though his plate is pilled much higher than yours. “Are you going to eat it all?” You don’t hear anything after his second question, appetite suddenly gone. He doesn’t wait for your response, eating his own food with vigor and eating yours once you push it over to him.

You stop going out to eat with him after that, hardly eating at school or at the House of Lamentation. Sure, you eat enough so that no one says anything but Beel knows better. You don’t snack like you used to or eat cakes with him, you just eat and then that’s it. He talks to Belphie about it and his bother helps figure it out; when did they stop eating? Why? He puts it together after that, feeling horrible once he remembers you talking about how people used to make fun of you in the human world.

Beel shows up at your door the next day, a box from Madame Scream’s in hand and a determined look on his face. He asks to talk to you and you have a conversation about what he said, ignoring the box even as his stomach growls. He apologizes for upsetting you and says that he doesn’t care what size you are, he likes you for you. If people are going to make fun of you or try to bully you, he’ll protect you because you mean a lot to him. You end up splitting the box of treats with Beel, happier than you have been all week. He doesn’t tell you but he prefers that you’re bigger; he’s a big guy after all and it’s a relief not to worry about hurting you as much.

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 2

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I apologize for how angsty this one got. I tried to mix in sass and fluff to lighten the load, but by nature, it’s just kinda heavy/heavier than the other parts. I promise the next parts have fluff abounding, mixed in with angst, of course. If you need to refresh yourself on the warnings for this story, this would be a good chapter to do so. It gets a bit graphic and dramatic, just like the show, haha! But just to be on the safe side, if you want to make sure, head to the masterlist to refresh your memory.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,105

Xxx

When you walked into the loft a few short minutes later, Derek’s alarm that someone was trespassing was blaring. He walked over to it and slammed his fist against it, stopping the blaring alarm and blinking light. His eyes searched the loft in the eerie silence that followed, only for the pack members to emerge from behind various walls with hands over their ears, or from out on the balcony. 

You couldn’t contain your giggle at Stiles’ especially pained expression of both annoyance and also fear that Derek would finally follow through on many years of threats. 

“What’s going on?” Derek boomed, and you snickered as more eye rolls were given than jumps at his loud tone and glowing red eyes.

He turned his gaze on you briefly, but you kept your spine straight. After having to sit through a nauseating phone call between him and Jennifer in the car the whole way over here, he deserved it. 

Taking a few steps further into the loft, you tossed down your duffel bag of clothes, inspecting the alarm box. “Damn, Derek. You almost dented the thing. What did it ever do to you?”

“Is this a bad time?” 

Turning at the voice that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you saw none other than Jennifer. You felt a growl brewing in your gut and you took a threatening step forward, fighting any physical evidence of being a werewolf for the sake of the pack. 

Derek was quick to blink away his red glow, but you noticed he didn’t really care if she saw it, and that pissed you off even more. 

Stiles came up and gently grabbed your elbow, tugging you back with the rest of them, not even flinching when you turned yellow eyes on him. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Looking back, you met Derek’s gaze, once again red. He spoke slowly, but you lived with him and knew him well enough to hear the menace in his tone. “Back off.”

Taking her into the hallway and closing the front door behind him, Derek tried to talk her into leaving, promising to see her soon, and to add to your nauseating annoyance, they shared a brief kiss. 

Turning to Stiles, you hissed through your teeth. “She’s brainwashed him. I swear. No human sees that for as short a time as she has and doesn’t even flinch when an Alpha glows his eyes at her.”

“Why would she do that?” Stiles scoffed. 

“I don’t know. But she is an English teacher. If anyone can do it, it’s her.”

Stiles snorted a laugh. “Good grammar? That’s your argument? Oh come on, Y/N. Next thing you’ll be accusing her of being in cahoots with the Alpha Pack, or, or! Maybe, she’s the one ritualistically sacrificing people!” He was laughing loudly, bending over at the waist with the effort now.

“Oh, she’s something.” You huffed, looking at the still closed door. “For now, she’s just my least favorite bit-”

The door slid open to an angry looking Derek. He leveled his gaze on you, which you met with your own stare. 

“Is it gone?” you asked quietly, smirking almost imperceptibly. 

The rest of the pack meeting went by in a blur, the only things you gleaned from it was something about a club downtown to try and trap some Omega or something, and that Derek was an ass to you. 

Your friends filed out of the loft as you went to get changed for training, which you weren’t looking forward to. You knew Derek was going to kick your ass on purpose. 

As you made your way over to the mats to stretch briefly, eyeing Derek angrily the whole time, he ignored you. 

Rising to your feet, you shook your limbs to release any final tension you could and asked as calmly as you could, “What should we do as a warm up today?”

Before Derek could answer the alarm was blaring again, and your friends’ faces painted in fear was the next thing you noticed before a long clawed hand smashed the alarm box off the wall. 

Kali. 

Pointing a menacing claw to the balcony and looking at your friends, they all filed silently outside. “I can’t hurt any of you, Deucalion’s orders, so don’t test me.” Looking to Ethan and Aiden, she spoke gruffly. “Make sure they stay out there.” Looking to you with an evil smile, she took a step closer. “I want them to have a good view of what happens in here.”

Starting to circle you, she chuckled a little. “You want a warm up? How about me?” Her eyes glowed red before she launched at you with a snarl. 

You wrapped in her swiping arms, twisting with her until you could spin away and put distance between you again. “Fine by me,” you huffed, taking a deep breath and smirking. 

Circling one another, she sneered. “Little Beta, Derek’s precious little new one, you’re no match for me.”

“We’ll see,” you grinned, running at her and sliding between her legs set in a wide spread stance, kicking behind you to knock her knees out from under her, causing her to drop to them on the hard cement floor. 

Snarling, she pivoted back to you as you still smirked, rolling out of the way when she launched at you again, this time with a growl. 

You let yourself chuckle. “This is fun!” You glanced to Derek, ignoring his obvious want to jump into the fight. Looking back to Kali, you grinned brightly. “What else you got?”

She went to sweep your legs out from under you suddenly, but you easily jumped out of the way, jumping on top of her as her whole body was low to the ground in the attempt. 

Your hips straddled her waist, your knees pushing into her rib cage making it hard for her to breathe, and held her hands beside her head. “I win.” Your grin brightened. “Tag. You’re it.”

You could hear Stiles laugh in triumph outside the window, and you glanced at him. Kali took advantage of your momentary distraction and smashed her head into yours, loosening your grip on her, and getting to her feet as you staggered back, hand cradling your forehead. You felt the blood temporarily running down your face until your nose healed. 

Pulling your hand down to where the blood was and pulling it away to briefly glance at it, you twisted up your features and hissed at a smug Kali, “Bitch!”

Jumping and launching at her, you swiped to fake her out, grabbing her wrist when she blocked you and twisting it behind her as you also went over and behind her, landing with a thud on your feet firmly, and leveraging her with the arm firmly in your grasp over you to the floor behind you. Her hand still in your grip, as she tried to catch her breath, the wind knocked out of her, you grabbed her other hand and rolled her under your grasp just enough to pin her hands under her back, placing your whole weight on top of her now, straddling her thighs, knees digging into her sides and your hands holding her shoulders down, and thus also her arms. 

“Would you look at that?” you said in fake awe. “I did all of that without any claws or fangs.” You leaned in close to her face, letting your yellow eyes glow brightly. “But you didn’t really think I wouldn’t flash these beauties after taking down an Alpha, now, did you?”

The tapping of Deucalion’s cane came to the front door, followed by a droll, “Are you done, Kali?”

The rest went by in a blur. Somehow you ended up under Kali with your head being pinned down to the floor, along with your stomach being pressed to the floor by a heavy foot you soon realized was Ennis once she passed you off to go and do what she came to do to Derek. 

You were forced to watch in horror, the cries of your pack on the balcony drowned out after the first few, nothing but your heartbeat and Derek’s meeting your ears. You tried to calm yours down to help him also remain calm, trying to reduce the pool of blood spreading from the pole Kali had rammed through his chest. 

Your head pinned to the floor, you could only watch or shut your eyes, any struggle proving futile against the large Alpha. You didn’t dare close your eyes, you kept trying to meet Derek’s, but he kept them averted out of what almost looked more like shame than pain. The one time they did fleetingly meet, you forced a smile on your face, trying to coax one out of him, and you could have sworn the slightest twitch of his lips up was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in that moment.

He closed his eyes briefly at that point, and you kept the smile firmly on your face, though your voice was obviously broken, fighting back tears. 

“Hey, Derek,” you said quietly, not wanting to anger the room full of Alphas. It was already almost overbearing being the only Beta in the room. “Derek?” He opened his eyes and looked at you with a gentle smile and you decided that was even more beautiful than before. “Hey. I’m okay, Derek. I’m fine. So is everybody else.” You glanced at the balcony to show him what you meant before meeting his gaze again, smile still firmly on your face. It was purely to help put him at ease, because all you wanted to do was scream and cry and kick and beat an Alpha’s butt for doing anything to him.

“I’m okay. You’re okay. Well, you will be,” you chuckled, and he also let a small laugh pass his lips before he started coughing up blood, which made your worry rise. You didn’t think it could go any higher.

“Derek! Hey! Derek, it’s okay. We’re all okay. Just listen to him and we’ll figure it out.” He was having trouble breathing. “We always do.”

Tears started streaming down your face despite all your efforts, and you held back the ugly sob you felt brewing in your throat. 

His eyes snapping open after he took a labored breath through his nose, he glanced at you wide eyed, and you realized the pheromones had probably tipped him off. Damn senses. 

They finished their evil speech, pulled the bar from his chest, and released you, leaving you to scramble over to him at neck breaking speeds. 

They took the rod once in his chest and used it to lock the balcony door, keeping the rest of your pack out there, but they were all safe, and they just looked on through the window in silence. 

Cradling Derek’s head in your lap, you ran your fingers through his hair. “Hey, hey, stay with me. You don’t get out of this that easy. Stay awake. You need to stay awake, Derek. Stay with me.”

He reached up, placing a hand on your wrist limply, and you had flashbacks to just hours before in your house before he got the phone call. His smile weak, he gave a just as weak squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m stubborn, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Damn it,” you mocked, making him chuckle, and a little bit of color returned to his cheeks as he healed. 

His face turned somber. “You know what they’re asking me to do, right?”

You nodded. “I know what they’re telling you to do. And I know we will find a way to fix it. We always do. Plus, if you didn’t see, I’m a badass.” You grinned. 

He grinned as well, a soft chuckle passing his lips. “Yeah you are. That was pretty epic. Who taught you to fight? They must be pretty amazing. Like, almost as good as me.”

You laughed loudly, laying his head down on the floor again, softly, and ignoring his groan. “I’m going to let the others in so they can help me get you off this floor with the least amount of pain for you and clean all this up.” Realizing how much blood was on the floor, you went back to his face, resting a hand on his forehead and raking it back over his hair, resting it on top of his head. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Derek. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Both sentiments are mutual,” he huffed, smiling mischievously. 

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love What’s This?

[cursestothemoon]

Paging Dr. Weasley

Requested: yes

George Weasley x fem! reader 

Warnings: strong language, asthma, fever and illness symptoms, food

Word Count: 3031

Summary: George is excited to go see the new products at Zonko’s and the harsh weather isn’t going to stop him. The reader has asthma and she's a bit apprehensive about going out in the cold, dry weather but George insists it’ll be fine. George, unfortunately, is wrong.

***

The night prior it was quite clear to you that the weather would be horrid. The wind, aggressive in nature, thrashed and collided with the walls of the stone walls of the castle. You were fortunate, however, tucked under your boyfriend George’s arm, asleep in his warm dorm. He had insisted that you stayed the night with him, when it got cold out he got clingy, and you had no objections to his suggestion. The following day you were to venture down to Hogsmeade with George, a week ago the plan was made when he mentioned needing prank supplies from Zonko’s, Fred unable to go because of a weekend detention he got himself. With the oncoming storm you had assumed that tomorrow’s plans had been canceled, knowing from past learning experiences the harsh cold was no help to your asthma.

Light flooded through the window in George’s dorm, a bright white that pierced your eyes even as they rest under your lids. You turned away from the harsh light, nose pushing into the warm, inviting chest of your boyfriend as you tried to slip back into a deeper sleep. A deeper sleep would not come, it wasn’t long after you turned that you were fully awoken by a deep groan.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, I told Lee to close the stupid curtains when he got in too.” George grumbled, hand smacking against his face to cover his eyes.

You were silent as you slowly shimmied yourself higher onto the pillow, motioning for him to lower himself so his face would be in your neck, concealed from the morning sun reflecting off the night's snow. George happily complied, humming his gratitude as he nuzzled into your neck before placing a gentle kiss where your shoulder met your neck.

“Who opened the fucking window?” Fred’s voice was heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

His tone showed his clear annoyance, followed by a groan and the shuffling of covers probably a result from him angrily pulling them over his head.

“I might’ve forgotten.” Lee answered from his bed making Fred chuck one of his pillows at him.

George groaned into your neck, “Will you two wankers shut up. We’re trying to sleep.”

“We?” Lee and Fred asked in unison before Fred continued, “Is Y/n there with you?”

George and you had retired to bed quite early last night, and neither of you expected Lee or Fred to check to see if George was alone last night before going to sleep.

“Yeah she’s here so shut up.” George grumbled again.

You could hear Fred, or Lee you weren’t sure, as they moved around in their bed before they spoke. It was Fred.

“Was the poor girl buried under the blankets all night?”

You decided to respond this time, “No, I had my face out to breathe.”

“Guess it’s time to get up.” Lee grumbled, moving to swing his legs out from under the covers.

“Maybe if you closed the curtains we’d all still be asleep a bit longer.” George sassed as he moved to sit up, not before giving you a good morning kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe if you closed the curtains…” Lee mimicked in a high voice, getting up to go to the bathroom.

Deciding that sleep would not be achieved until tonight, you too, sat up, knuckling at your eyes as you leaned against George’s chest. He circled his arms around your waist, placing another kiss to the crown of your head.

“Morning, pretty girl.” He rasped into your ear.

Unfortunately it was loud enough for Fred to hear and make a gagging noise as he turned away from you two.

“Disgusting. When you guys leave feel free to close the curtains, yeah?” He mumbled from under his covers, a few tendrils of fiery hair poking out.

You shuffled your legs over the edge of the mattress, standing up and stretching before grabbing the pillow you had been using to go over and smack Fred from over the sheets.

“Get up you wanker.”

He yelped before sitting up abruptly, hair a literal mess with strands sticking out randomly, “Georgie! Your girlfriend is attacking me, make her stop.”

George pretended to think for a moment before answering, “No. I don’t think I will.”

Fred feigned offence before also getting up and out of bed, his maroon boxers with green ‘F’s on them were quite the sight.

“Mate, it’s snowing out. How are you only wearing your knickers.” Lee asked, coming out from the bathroom.

“Run hot.” Fred answered simply with an overly flirty wink directed at Lee.

“Merlin…” George muttered, shaking his head as he got out of bed.

You smiled at your beloved, his hair- much like his brother’s- a frizzy mess of red locks and his eyes still puffy from just having woken up, but unlike his twin, George had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old Gryffindor t-shirt that he had cut to show his midriff. He was quite literally perfect, his pants hanging low on his hips- just exposing his v-line- and his t-shirt, now crop top, ended just above his belly button, an auburn happy-trail in view.

“You ready for today?” George asked, pulling you out of your less than innocent thoughts, his knowing smirk a clear sign that you had been caught ogling at him.

You stood for a moment in thought, “Today?”

George nodded, “Zonko’s, butterbeer, our plan to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I thought we would postpone that, the weather is horrid.”

He peered out the window before turning back to you, “It isn’t snowing much anymore, I think we should be in the clear.”

“Don’t you have asthma though? Won’t it make it act up?” Fred asked as he slipped on his shoes.

You nodded slowly, moving to fix the astray sheets on George’s bed, “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go out today.”

George pouted slightly, “We’ll bundle you up extra warm, and it’ll be quick. You’ll be ok, you haven’t had an attack in so long.”

You knew why he was so keen on going, Zonko’s had a new line of products that he was dying to get his hands on. He’d been talking about it for months, he and Fred finally saving up enough money from selling their own things to go purchase a few things. You felt bad, and he was right, you hadn’t had an asthma attack in a while so perhaps you’d be fine.

“Alright, but we’ll need to stop by my dorm so I can get my thick scarf. The one that goes up over my nose.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it anyother way.”

An hour later you and George were ready to go, two scarves- one long enough to go over your nose- a beanie, fuzzy socks, and a pair of George’s mittens were part of the outfit you were sporting. You felt a lot more confident in your attire now, nothing could go wrong...right?

It went wrong.

So very wrong.

The first half hour out on the town was fine, a bit chilly but George was there to wrap an arm around you and pull up your scarf so it covered your nose. Then, as the forty-five minute mark hit, you started to feel a bit...wheezy. The scarf kept slipping, the wind had picked up, and it was extremely dry out. Once it hit an hour you were in a full blown asthma attack, having to pull out a rescue inhaler- something you made sure to bring with you no matter how confident you were at first- and George felt absolutely terrible as he watched you try to catch your breath in The Three Broomsticks.

George rubbed a hand in comforting circles on your back as you took a few inhales of your inhaler trying to stop the painful wheezes. You reached behind you, putting a hand on his to try and tell him it was alright and you didn’t blame him, knowing he’d be beating himself up over this.

Once your breathing had leveled enough for you to string together a few words uninterrupted, you turned to your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry but I think it would be better if I went back.” You muttered, voice still a little raspy.

George crouched down, face to face with you sitting in a chair, as he spoke, “Baby,” He cooed, “You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry I forced you to come out knowing you have asthma and you were worried. I should’ve been thinking more about you, pretty girl.”

You shook your head gently, “It’s alright George, you were excited. No one needs to apologize, let’s just go.”

George silently agreed, moving to remove his scarf as you stood up. He pulled up your scarf so it went over your nose and wrapped his own scarf around it in hopes of it staying up better. Once he was happy with his work, he grabbed your mitten covered hand and you two walked out of the little pub.

Fortunately, you two got back to the castle without another asthma attack hitting you. George took you straight to his dorm, and sat you on his bed. The dorm was empty, it was still rather early in the day, but you felt your eyes start to droop as fatigue from the asthma attack, shivering in the cold, and fighting your way through the snow all came crashing down on you. You were also starting to get a headache, something you were definitely not happy about.

The lanky ginger noticed how tired you started to look and felt his heart melt all while guilt nearly ate him alive. He knew it was his fault you were feeling so bad, but your tired eyes and grabby hands at him made him smile.

“We need to get you changed, love.” He said quietly, going to his own trunk to pull out a sweater and pajama pants for you.

With his sweater and pajama pants in hand he got down to his knees in front of the bed where you sat and started to unbutton your coat. Once unbuttoned he helped you shrug it off, then helped shed all the other layers until you were in a thin t-shirt before pulling his sweater over your head. You moved to take off your bra but George muttered to let me, his hands sliding up under your shirt to unhook your bra, then letting you shimmy around to get your arms out before grabbing the undergarment and putting it in his trunk- he doesn’t need the boys coming in and seeing his girlfriends bra.

He then unbuttoned your jeans, slowly helping you pull them down your legs before replacing them with his own pajama pants.

“Stan for me for a moment.” He said, going to tie the drawstring in a neat bow to make sure the pants didn’t fall off of you.

“Thank you Georgie.” You smiled leaning into his chest.

“No problem, love. Let’s get you into bed.”

You shuffled onto the bed and situated yourself under the covers, looking up at George expectantly making him chuckle.

“You take a nap, I’m going to go get us food alright?”

“Ok.” You nodded, getting comfortable.

Before George was even out the room, you had fallen asleep, the day had taken a toll on you evidently. He smiled at your peaceful form, asleep in his bed, before carefully leaving the dorm to go grab some food for a late lunch.

George came back with the food fifteen minutes later, but he couldn’t find it in him to wake you up just yet. He waited around an hour before gently kissing your hairline to wake you up, but he grimaced at the unusual heat that your skin held.

When you woke, you felt fine, maybe a little lethargic, but fine. Usually asthma attacks didn’t take this much out of you but perhaps it was just because of how intense this one was and your head was still pounding.

You two quietly ate, George asking how you were every so often, you responding with a soft ‘alright’ before going back to the sandwich he brought. When the food was finished you crawled back into George’s bed, still feeling a bit sluggish but the food helped.

“Can you lay with me?”

George nearly awed audibly at how soft and small your voice was.

“Let me just change ok, bubs?”

You nodded, “Wear the cropped shirt please.”

George chuckled at your request but of course complied, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall just above his belly button. You smiled at the sight making him shake his head before pulling his own pajama pants on and climbing into bed next to you.

Hushed conversation started between the two of you. He was sitting up slightly with your head placed on his chest. As the sun went down and the other boys came back to the dorm, you let the melodic thump of George’s heartbeat lull you to sleep.

***

The night was a bit rough to say the least, George barely got any sleep due to his worrying about your wheezing. You didn’t usually wheeze when you slept, so it worried him. You on the other hand woke up with a stuffy nose, painfully dry cough, and achy muscles.

You were sick.

Even worse, it was Monday morning and you could not muster up the strength to get yourself dressed and to class. You had woken up first that morning, an aggressive cough pulling both you and George out of sleep. Once you the coughing fit had subsided you turned to look at George.

“I don’t think I can go to class today.” You pouted.

George pushed your hair out of your face as he answered, “Don’t worry about it, darling.” He placed an open palm on your forehead, “You’re burning up.”

Just as he had said it your body shivered before you erupted into another coughing fit.

“My thoughts exactly.” He smiled. “You are not leaving this bed today, and I’ve just gotten word that Dr. Weasley is in.”

You let out a raspy laugh, “You don’t have to miss class, I’ll survive.”

George shook his head, “Nope, I’m going straight to McGonagall to tell her that you are sick and I need to take care of you.”

He left before you could protest any further.

You turned around, getting comfortable again, and started to doze off before Fred piped up.

“I thought you two would never quite fucking yelling.” He groaned.

Lee responded for you, “Shut up you twat.”

***

George jogged to the transfiguration classroom still in his pajamas getting interesting looks from the people in the halls. He didn’t care though, not when his little love was sitting in his bed sniffly and sick waiting for his cuddles.

He made it to the classroom and pushed the door open, startling Professor McGonagall and the few students in the room.

“Mr. Weasley! You cannot just come stampeding into my ro- what in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

George caught his breath before speaking, “Professor, Y/n is sick and she can't come to class and since she’s sick she obviously needs me to take care of her so I also cannot attend classes today.”

“Is Miss L/n alright?” McGonagall asked, now worried about the girl.

“It’s my fault, I took her out in the cold yesterday and her asthma acted up but now she’s also got a fever and she was wheezing all night.” George rambled, the guilt coming back.

His Professor put her hands out to stop his rambling and push him toward the door, “Alright, alright, you go take care of the poor girl, both of you are excused for today and tomorrow if it’s necessary. If it gets any worse take her straight to Madam Pomfrey, understood?”

George nodded and McGonagall continued, “And for Merlin's sake next time send someone else to come tell me, we do not need you strutting around the school in- in- whatever this is.”

She gestured toward George’s outfit making his ears turn pink, realizing just how many eyes are on him at the moment.

“Right, of course. Thank you.”

***

George made it back to his dorm just as Lee and Fred were stepping out to leave for their first class of the day. He offered them a quick good morning and ‘see you later’ before making his way to you. He found you asleep in bed and tucked the covers under your chin before sliding into bed with you, pulling you into his chest as he let sleep take over.

A few hours later he woke up to you already awake and reading a note, he assumed it was attached to one of the two bottles that had been placed on his bedside table sometime while he was asleep.

“Who’s that from?” He asked, sitting up and looking over the note.

“McGonagall, she sent up medicine.”

“How sweet of Minnie.” He smiled pulling himself out of bed, “Alright, let Dr. Weasley read it.”

You laughed, “Dr. Weasley?”

He nodded feigning shock, “Yes, Dr. Weasley, and I’m going to nurse you back to health.”

George plucked the note from you and read it over, taking in all the instructions on how and when to take the medication which he assumed were the two bottles.

The rest of the day passed with George waiting on you hand and foot, bringing up food, rubbing your back, cuddling you, you name it he did it. He also did it all in his cute little crop top that definitely helped speed up the process of your recovery.

Now as you lay in bed, George tilts your head up to place a gentle kiss on your lips but you stop him before he can.

“You’ll get sick.”

He chuckles, “I’ve been kissing on you, and cuddling with you all day. I’m going to get sick either way, pretty girl, so please let me kiss you on the lips at least once today.”

“Alright but we can’t tell anyone, I don’t think it’s very proper of me to be snogging my doctor.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa 

@hufflepuff5972 

[consumeconstantly]

Innocence, avoidance

Summary: Jason Todd cracks crass jokes and dirty comments like they’re his lifeblood. It turns out, he’s just getting it out of his system before he sees his little sister again. (Or: Marinette gloms onto Red Hood after her parent’s death, and there’s no way anyone can stop her from being with her older brother.)

___________________________________________________

Jason Todd, AKA Red Hood, is not the kind of man people go to when they want to complain about their life problems. They go to him when they want a quick, oftentimes violent solution; Red Hood isn’t exactly a renowned empath. In comparison to his other Bat Family counterparts, he is at least 10 times more crass and almost 15 times more violent. 

It is accepted that although Red Hood makes situations turn out for the better, he is no shining paragon of human virtue and kindness. People trust him to watch their backs and not to fuck them over so long as they’re working within his very clearly defined set of values, but he’s just not the kind per person that anyone would entrust their kid to during their Friday date night.

Until somebody does.

The door to the warehouse is already open, and he has a gun in his hand, ready to threaten the little crowd he’s gathered today when a woman hops out of her car and shoves a pig-tailed girl with wide blue eyes and an almost blindingly neon pink outfit towards him.

“There you are, you weren’t at the drop site!” says the woman, who instantly begins to back away from the two of them once the little girl picks herself up off the ground that she landed on. Red Hood notes the license of the getaway car, making a mental reminder to deal with them later, but the car makes tracks. The little girl frowns at the disappearing car, eyes the gun in his hand, then decides that she’s going to stay put. 

Red Hood looks at the rabble that has convened in the warehouse, down at the little girl, then back again. There are at least five people in the room that are eyeing the little girl greedily, and he’s sure that if he just lets her go, she’ll be captured by one of them faster than he can bat an eye. He doesn’t exactly have time to put the girl in a safe place, not when it’s taken him months and a good number of heads in order to draw these people here. 

She looks wary of the gun and of him, but not scared. Everyone else? Half of them look like they’re about to burst out laughing, and the other half have looks that he’s eager to wipe off their faces.

“Aww, look at that! Hood has finally found his way into the dark side of the business. What’s next, prostitution?”

Without hesitation, he shoots with deadly accuracy at the man’s hand. The man keels, bending over and clenching his bloodied appendage. Other than the man’s screams, the room goes completely silent.

Red Hood casts another glance at the little girl, who has, slowly but surely managed to inch away from him and into a safer position. She’s holding onto her sparkly purple plastic backpack like it’s the only thing that’s keeping her alive. Smart kid, not to run. Or was it dumb? He wouldn’t shoot her, and he’d take out anyone else who tried to, but the girl didn’t know that. She probably just assumed that she was going to his next target.

“All of you shut up while I deal with this.” He inhales deeply and kneels down to get on eye level with the girl. Not that she can see much of his eyes, given his helmet, but still.

He has half a mind to go after the woman, but he’s not about to leave the little girl amongst the group of criminals that are gathered in the warehouse with him. Briefly, he wonders how the hell that couple even knew that he was going to be here tonight. He also wonders what he’s going to do with the kid. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

She looks up at him, hands clenched around a plastic pink backpack with some kid’s cartoon on the back, then looks out at the people that have gathered. There’s a moment of silence, and Red Hood is sure that she’s weighing her current options. Smart kid. Eventually, she shifts her body weight closer to him, apparently drawing the conclusion that he is the safer option than the other people who are here tonight. Smart kid.

“It’s Marinette, sir.”

No last name. Not sure if that’s a pointed decision to keep her identity at least partially concealed, or just because she doesn’t have one.

“And those weren’t your parents?” It stands to reason that the people in that care aren’t her parents, but he needs to make sure.

Marinette clenches her backpack tighter. “No, sir.”

“Where are they?” He has a sinking suspicion if those weren’t her parents, and she’s not up in tears, asking for a phone to call them, that--

“They’re dead, sir.”

Sometimes, Jason wishes he could be wrong on things like this. 

“Then who were they? And don’t call me sir. Too formal.” 

“My mom’s... second cousin, I think? I never met her before, but I got sent here anyway.” 

One of the men shifts. He’s one of the men who Red Hood pegged as a possible child trafficker. Underneath his helmet, Jason’s eyes narrow. He now has a fairly good idea of how the couple figured out that he was going to be here tonight.

“Do you know how to get back home?”

At that, Marinette's mouth almost twitches up into a smile. “No sir. I don’t think there’s a home to go back to, anymore.”

Red Hood sighs. Putting the information presented to him together, he quickly comes to the conclusion that Marinette’s parents have died recently and that nobody in her immediate family has found out about their passing, or they don’t want her. Somehow, the couple picked her up-- possibly when she was going to a friend’s house, judging by the whole school girl look she has going on-- and thought she would fulfill the trafficking requirements laid out to them. 

That means that there aren’t a lot of options available to her. He can redirect her to the foster care system, but everybody knows foster care messes up kids permanently. Even though she looks to be pretty street smart, he couldn’t just let her live out on the streets in good conscience. Her outfit looks too clean for her to ever have lived in poverty, and she definitely checks the box for a lot of the trafficking rings that have been popping up recently. Mixed descent, the possibility to be pretty when older, and very, very pure. She’d get picked up off the streets within hours if she just let her be. 

He decided that he’s let her have the final say. “What do you think I should do in this situation?”

She shuffled her pink ballet clad shoes, eyes darting to the sides. He had to give the girl this much at least; even though she had the whole innocent look going for her, she was very aware of her surroundings. Her body language implied that she didn’t believe him to be that much of a threat— and in any other case, he’d fault her for that, but given that let their surroundings were a drug den he’d let it go— and tilted herself so she could have as many people in her sights as possible. “Sir, I think as long as you could get me out of here safely, I’ll figure out how to take care of myself.”

The man Jason was watching, the possible trafficker, tensed. Yeah, Jason is definitely going to have to take care of him later. This kind of a reaction as good as cements the suspicions he’s had. 

“Tell you what, princess. Do you mind waiting outside for me? I’ll help you out once I’m done here.”

Marinette eyed the rest of the room. “How long will you take?”

She’s asking all the right questions. Maybe it will be easy for her to fit into the slums of Gotham. 

“Not long,” Red Hood promised. “Ten minutes at most.”

The collection of people who have gathered in the warehouse all swallowed uncomfortably. Everybody knew that when Red Hood dealt with things quickly, it typically ended in copious amounts of bloodshed and shock. 

“Okay,” Marinette paused, grip loosening on her backpack. “Ten minutes.

#

Red Hood doesn’t particularly want to have Marinette around for the violence that’s about to occur, but she’s already seen him shoot one person, so it’s too late to shield her innocence. And violence? It’s a slippery slope.

He makes quick work of the room; half of the people he brought out here, he kills off directly. The other half are made to watch as the people they’ve associated with for years die in front of their eyes. This is a power play. A way to… persuade them to reform. Because the people he’s left alive? Red Hood has left them alive for two reasons. One. They’re not nearly as bad as most of the higher ups in Gotham. Two. If he kills all of the people who have dabbled in anything bad, the chain will be completely messed up, and there will be too much room for unknown variables to make their way up the ranks. He wants people he can control. And the people he’s left alive? He can keep all of them in line.

Marinette is not waiting outside for him. They’re right next to Crime Alley. This is not going to end well.

#

He’ll give the little girl props for somehow managing to avoid his detection. 

To be more precise, he’s hoping that she’s simply avoiding his detection, and hasn’t gotten swept up in something bad. 

It takes Jason three hours-- three hours-- to find the girl who can’t be much older than ten. Probably not even ten, judging by her size. 

“You’re lucky it’s me finding you, and not someone else, Pixie.” He finally catches a glance of her glaringly sparkly backpack, complete with fairies and unicorns covered in some sort of holographic overlay.

Marinette immediately backs up, looking definitively worse for the wear. She’s gained rips in her clothes and  a nasty looking scraped knee. Her face loses all color when she sees him. “S- sorry, sir. I swear I wasn’t running away, it’s just that there was someone outside who tried to grab me, and--”

If Jason didn’t know better, he’d believe the girl. 

However, he does have a decent number of connections, and those connections ensured that nobody was going to be able to come near the warehouse once his ‘meeting’ started. Though, he’ll have to have a talk with them, given that someone tried to pass the goods right before it started. Jason is fairly sure that the couple has been apprehended by now, but checking later tonight won’t hurt. 

Which means Marinette made the decision to run.

Again, that would have been a very, very smart decision had she not found herself in Crime Alley of all places. It looks like she’s learned a little bit about why she should stay away from places like this.

“It’s fine, Pixie. Like I said earlier, just call me Red Hood, or Hood. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Marinette balks.

Jason sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but you can trust me. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is to see you safe.”

“But,” Marinette bites her lip. Her eyes drop to the guns at his side. That’s… that’s a good reason not to trust him, to be honest. If he were in her position, he’d already be running.

“Do you have anyone you can contact? Anyone you trust? I can take you to them.”

She’s starting to tear up, and god, Jason cannot deal with crying children. Marinette’s big, blue eyes and pigtails and her general smallness. He just can’t. “Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. What, do you-- do you want a cookie or something? I can bring you to a bakery before we talk? Sweets are supposed to cheer kids up, right?”

Marinette lets out a watery laugh. 

“I like macaroons,” she offers.

#

“So, how old are you?”

In the warmth of the bakery, Marinette looks markedly more relaxed. She went to the bathroom to clean her face and cut off, and now she looks like the poster child of one of those band aid ads. Lively, a little mischievous, and, you know, a child.

She takes a delicate bite of the shortbread cookie-- not a macaroon, there aren’t many reputable bakeries in Gotham that are close and have French pastries. “Nine and a half.”

Oh man, she’s younger than Replacement. 

“You’ve really got no family here? None at all? No friends you can call?”

“No, I’m from France.”

Well, that certainly answers a lot of questions. But brings up additional ones. “You speak English very well.”

“Maman and Papa ran a very popular bakery. We got a lot of foreigners. Before we moved to Paris, we lived in New York.” She takes a sip of her drink, whipped cream stuck on her nose. “And I don’t remember anyone from New York. We moved to Paris when I was three.”

Jason sighs. “What do you want to do?”

“Maman said that if I were ever left on my own, my only job was to survive by any means.” 

“That’s…” He tries to find the right words. “Interesting advice.”

In what parallel universe do parents of a bakery in Paris-- one of the major cities in the world with the lowest crime rates--tell their children to survive by any means?

“Did she tell you how?”

Marinette tilts her head, pigtails bouncing. “She told me to trust my instincts and never to trust the police.”

Great. That explains why she didn’t ask for someone’s phone to call the police. Not that the police in Gotham are the best people to go to for a case like Marinette’s, but then again, there’s not really anybody good to go to for a case like hers. 

Vague advice is the best way to get a kid killed. But since Marinette isn’t already dead, it stands to reason that her instincts haven’t failed her yet, and he really does have no clue what to do with her.

He briefly contemplates taking her to Bruce, but strikes the idea down almost instantly. Marinette fits all of the requirements to become a Robin. Tragic backstory, black hair, blue eyes. He’s not going to put another child into Bruce’s hands just so he can ruin their life by not doing his job. Besides, Bruce doesn’t know he’s alive yet, and he wants to keep it that way for now.

“Then what do your instincts tell you to do?”

Does he feel like an idiot for asking a nine year old that? Yes, but what else is he supposed to do? Taking care of kids was never part of the job description when he signed up to be Red Hood. (Then again, it wasn’t like there was a job description to begin with.)

Marinette takes another bite of one of the cookies on her plate. “They tell me to stick close to you.”

Even better. She’s imprinted on him.

@jasonette-july-2k20

[apocalypticbadass]

Sapphic Vampire Lovers (Smut)

A/N: Hey guysss it’s Alice smut time. Haven't been able to get the woman out of my head recently so here are my musings. You live with the Cullens and Alice is your girlfriend, but no one at school knows. You’re basically an adopted sibling so I might refer to the kiddos as your brother/sister. Also I’m not saying Alice can't see the future in this but like...lowkey...it’s hard as hell to write for her when she already knows everything lol.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, I think that’s it.

----

You sighed loudly as Mike Newton continued to prattle on about unimportant matters by your side. The bell signaled the beginning of class, and you feigned an apologetic look, which Mike believed wholeheartedly as he scurried to his seat. Poor boy. You turned to Emmett, your “brother” who sat next to you in Chem.

“He doesn’t give up, does he?” Emmett snickered.

You shook your head and sighed. “Oh shut it, Em.”

“You should just turn him away at this point. It’s going too far. Alice is starting to really notice.”

“Wait actually? She can’t possibly think I would ever pick Mike Newton over her.” You replied, getting quite nervous that Alice might be upset with you.

“I’m just sayin’. He’s always flirting with you, the last thing you want is for Alice to get the wrong idea.” “Yeah, you're right. Thanks Em.”

He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before you both turned towards the front to pay some attention to your teacher. You couldn’t sit still for the entirety of class, Emmett kept having to pull your hands out of your mouth to stop you from biting your nails or rest his hand on your knee to keep your leg from bouncing. The bell rang after a painfully long class, and all you wanted was to get out of there. It was the last period of the day, so you and Emmett grabbed your things and booked it out of class, he understood your desire to leave. What the both of you had missed while you were too busy worrying about your anxiety, was that Mike Newton had left class 10 minutes early with Eric Yorkie and Tyler Crowley. How Emmett’s incredible hearing and sight had missed that, you’ll never know. Or maybe he just thought it was unimportant. The rest of your family caught up with you, and Alice linked her arm in yours.

“Hi baby.” She said with a smile.

“Hi Ali.” You answered, nuzzling into her shoulder as you walked.

As you all got closer to the parking lot, Emmett gasped. “Oh my fucking God...”

“Oh Jesus, here we go.” Rosalie sighed.

Draped across the side of Mike’s minivan, made of canvas and paint, was a sign that read “(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

No way was this happening.

You turned, horrified, to look at Alice’s face. She was staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes unreadable. You softly disconnected your arms and rushed over to Mike, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He beamed as he saw your urgency. “So, what do you think?”

“Mike, take it down right now.” You pleaded. “I’m sorry but I won’t go to prom with you.”

His face fell as Eric and Tyler moved to take the sign down and save Mike a little bit of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry Mike, I have to go.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your family was on your left and they were already getting into the car. Alice was at the back, and you grabbed her wrist while begging her to turn around and talk to you. “Alice, please, can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about?” She spat, venom in her voice. “Clearly you gave him a reason to think he should ask you. You’re very friendly, and I love that about you, but I think flirting with someone when you have a girlfriend is way too far.” “Alice you know I would never do that. You know how loyal I am to you, Mike could never hold a candle to you. I swear I’ve never flirted with him in my life, he’s just obsessed or something.” Your eyes shone with tears. “Please, baby. Trust me, not him. I swear on my life I only love you.”

You could see the slightest softening of her defensive exterior as your (y/e/c) eyes bore into her deep amber ones.

She stepped closer to you and sighed. “You’re right, I’m overreacting, I suppose. You haven’t given me any reason to believe that you’d flirt with him.” Alice placed her lips below your ear. “Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to pay for poor Mike’s mistake. I’ll have to remind you who you belong to, just incase you needed a refresher.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a blush creeping onto your cheeks since you knew that your family could hear you quite clearly from inside the car.

“I’ll meet you at home.” She said before turning on her heel to walk home, she’d be back before the rest of you.

You got in the car behind the passenger seat, head in your hands as Emmett laughed from the other side of the car. “What did I tell you?”

“Drop it, McCarty.” You glared at him.

“She’ll come around.” Jasper said, hand on your knee. “She’s not actually mad, just jealous that he can be so carefree with his feelings while you both have to hide yours.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just sucks.” “At least you’ll get good sex out of it.” Rosalie said nonchalantly, looking at her nails, which she had painted last night.

“Get some!” Emmett cheered, which made you bust out laughing.

The car ride home was comfortably quiet, everyone else’s mind wandering to other things, Rosalie and Edward speaking to one another in a nearly inaudible tone.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you pulled up to the Cullen house, met by Alice leaning against her Porsche, arms folded neatly across her chest. Jasper squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, feeling your nerves flow, and eased your anxiety as best as he could, one last time. Alice got in the car before you could get over to her, and just before she shut the door, she gave you a “come hither” motion. You opened the passenger door and sat carefully inside of the car, careful not to track in any mud.

“Hi.” You said softly as she began to drive.

“Hello.”

You fell into silence, zoning out while looking out the window, wondering where the hell you were going. You tried very hard not to let her know how nervous you were, but the attempt was futile because she could hear your erratic heartbeat.

“Where exactly are we going?” You managed to say, in a calmer voice than you thought you could muster.

“You’ll see. It’ll be fun.” She said lightly, tossing you a wink.

20 minutes later, Alice pulled into a hotel parking lot, probably the fanciest building you had ever seen. You knew you were in Seattle, but had never been to this secluded area with these fancy buildings. You felt severely underdressed, the both of you casual, but her level of fashion much higher than yours, her walk far more graceful. She gave the keys to the valet as they pulled luggage out of the trunk. Alice took one bag for herself and handed one to you. She kept her hand on the small of your back and led you through the massive glass doors, which were opened for you of course. The gorgeous decor of the lobby kept your gaze until Alice had signed you both in.

“Come on now, love.” Her voice was like melted honey.

Your gaze flipped to her and you followed her to the elevator, where she pushed the button for the top floor. Your eyes went wide as you remembered peering up to the peak of the building and how high it was. As you stepped out, there was one single door in front of you. Alice swiftly unlocked it and ushered you inside, bolting the lock shut immediately. As you walked around in awe, you felt yourself being whisked away, vision blurring as Alice ran you both into the bedroom, where she tossed you onto the silk duvet. Her dainty, but incredibly strong hands pushed your shoulders back onto the bed. 

“What to do with you?” She pretended to think before pulling a pair of cuffs from behind her back. 

You bit your lip as you felt butterflies down below. Your wrists were in one of her hands in a second, cuffed to the headboard before you could even blink. “Are you going to be good for me, darling?”

“Yes baby, I will.”

“Good.” She muttered into your ear, tearing your shirt off to suck on the exposed skin of your breasts. All you wanted to do was tangle your fingers into her short hair as she marked your body. Your wrists audibly struggled against your confines and you groaned. Alice laughed. She tore your bra off in a fluid motion, gently worrying one of your nipples between her teeth.

You sucked in a breath. “Ali, please. Wanna touch you.”

She swiftly flipped you onto your stomach. “No ma’am. Not allowed.”

She then pulled your pants and underwear off in one go, leaving you completely exposed. Alice slid a finger towards your clit, circling it slowly. You whined and squirmed, so she ripped all contact away from you. You felt her cool breath at your ear and her disapproving tsk. “I thought you said you were going to be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You better.” She replied, swiftly inserting one finger into your vagina. You took a sharp breath through your nose, trying to keep still. She curled her finger into your g-spot at an incredible pace, causing you to take a mouthful of the bedsheets to keep yourself quiet. She was pleasantly surprised at how good you were being, so she added another finger, scissoring you open. It took absolutely everything in you to just stay still and quiet.

Once you felt stretched enough, she placed a kiss at the base of your spine and retracted all contact, flashing across the room to grab a bag. You were unable to see this, but her clothes were off in an instant, and she had fastened one of her many straps around her hips. She’d chosen your favorite attachment, a hot pink dildo that measured around 7.5 inches. She leaned down to whisper in your ear while allowing the toy to nestle into the cleft of your butt.

“You’re not even gonna remember Mike Newton’s name after this.”

With that comment, she slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, slowly pushing into you, stretching you all the way out. “You can make noise now, love.” She purred.

Immediately, a string of profanities left your mouth. “Holy fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good inside me.”

After a few moments, you felt her icy hips hit your butt, felt her lips sucking marks onto your shoulder blades. “Move please, baby.” You whined, trying not to struggle against her. She pulled out of you slowly, and entered you once more. Taking her time, Alice picked up a pace that made your toes curl, she hit your g-spot every single time.

“Jesus fuck, Ali, God you’re so good. Feels so good, so fucking good, babygirl.” You babbled on as she drilled you into the bed at an inhuman pace, hands tangled into your hair.

“You just needed a little reminder, didn’t you, doll? Just needed to remember who you belong to. Mike Newton could never fuck you this good.” She growled, nipping at your earlobe. You wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but your words couldn't get past the way Alice was making you feel. Your clit gained some friction as each thrust pushed your body into the mattress a little further.

“Alice I’m so fucking close babes, please don’t fucking stop.” You cried out, the inferno in your stomach threatening release.

“Come for me, love.”

With her words, you came hard, squirting all over the duvet, leaving it soaked. Alice pushed all the way into you and stilled for a moment, relishing. “You were so good for me, babygirl. So beautiful.” She praised, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

“Wanna taste you.” You whined. “Sit on my face.”

Alice smirked at you and quickly unfastened the strap before positioning her dripping pussy over your mouth, settling softly with a moan. She had remained untouched until now, so the contact was quite welcome. “Christ, babe. Your mouth feels so good.”

Your tongue explored her walls, licking every surface, nose bumping her clit every so often. She leaned back and placed her hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly to get a grip. You moved to her clit, lips wrapping around it and drawing it into your mouth, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lover. You fervently continued, fully putting your mouth to work.

“Please, gonna come.” She rasped out, just before coating your face with her slick. “Oh my God, (y/n), so incredible.” Alice moaned while you continued to suck on her, drawing out her orgasm. You gazed at her with doe eyes from between her legs before she got off of you, reaching for the key to unlock your cuffs. She rubbed your wrists to soothe them before nuzzling into your neck and tangling her legs into yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way you taste.” You said after a few moments of silence.

Alice giggled. “I can absolutely say the same for you. That was amazing.”

“Totally. I love you. Sorry Mike asked me to prom.”

She let out a belly laugh, pulling you on top of her. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry for overreacting, quite dumb of me to be honest.”

“It upsets you that we can’t express our emotions for each other as freely as Mike can express his emotions for me.” “I just wish people could understand our love, understand that our gender is totally irrelevant.” She sighed, stroking your hips as she spoke. “I just love you so much and I wish I was able to show it in public without fear of something happening to you. God forbid anyone got violent.” “I know, baby, it’s really scary sometimes.” You cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with one hand, combing through her hair with the other.

“I don’t want to say it, but you know what I’m thinking.” Alice whispered, expression growing serious.

“I’ve been thinking about it recently as well, I think we have to do it. Sometime soon, I want to be with you forever. We’ll set a date.”

Alice gave you a lopsided grin. “Can’t wait to be sapphic vampire lovers until the end of time.” 

You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Oh hell yeah.”

[anxious-little-faicye]

CAMP UNUS ANNUS SAFETY RULES!

Rule #1 - Always remember the BS (Buddy System).

Rule #2 - When confronted by a bear (depending on the type of bear), confront it back and make lots of noises. But keep in mind, only do that for Black Bears.

Rule #3 - Bears can't get through the polyurethane of a tent. Plastic repels nature, since it's not of this world.

Rule #4 - The forest doesn't give a damn about you. Arrogance will get you nowhere.

Rule #5 - If you're stuck in a tree alone and two people happen to come across you, they are buddies. Don't just assume because another human life is nearby that they're obligated to help you.

Rule #6 - You help those in need though.

Rule #7 - Communication is key.

Rule #8 - Look, scan, observe, react, run.

How to survive a bear attack:

Rule #9 / Step Number 1 - Evaluate, determine which type of bear it is that it's attacking you.

Rule #10 - If the bear grunts twice it's a Grizzly, if it grunts three times then it's a Polar Bear.

Rule #11 - When dealing with Polar Bears, the biggest thing you want to do is make sure that you're covered head to doe, with as much armor as possible (sleeping bags work just fine).

Rule #12 / Step Number 2 - Try to maintain silence, maybe it'll go away on it's own.

Rule #13 / Step Number 3 - If step 2 fails, abandon all coverage plans, because clearly it's not going to work. However, you don't need to worry, because your tent is safe as long as the bear doesn't claim it as it's own by attracting other bears as competition.

Rule #14 - It is very important that when you go shopping for your tent (or you're finding your tent), you get one that's strong, triple layer made of the highest quality material.

Rule #15 - If the bear attacks with a gun, make sure you cover all of the important parts of your body. The smaller the target the harder it is for a bear to get you.

Rule #16 / Step Number 4 - This is an emergency step, you would never do this unless you were in a extremely dangerous situation... just run. With the help of your buddy (don't forget the buddy system!) you will roll the tent from the inside away from the bear.

Rule #17 - It's important to remember where your tent was when you pitched it.

Rule #18 - At this point the bear should be very intimidated by your skill and athleticism. It may think you and your buddy are now one large creature.

Rule #??? - RAGE, rage against the dying of the light...

Rule #19 - After all that escaping protocol, the bear should be gone by now. But in the case that it's not, just keep going rolling away in the tent.

Rule #20 - Bears are afraid of the sunlight, they can't handle it's intense heat.

Rule #21 / Step Number 5 - And finally, to escape the tent, you have to find it's weakest point and destroy it.

Rule #22 - Nature it's a dangerous place filled with evil, horrible monstrosities that are beautiful in their own way.

How to safely bury your friend:

Rule #23 - Carcasses can attract bears and other wildlife that are opportunistic scavenges.

Rule #24 - For this process you're going to need a shovel and a buddy.

Rule #25 - Don't forget the Buddy System (B.S) or you will DIE.

Rule #26 - The first thing you're going to do is search the area for a proper place for a burial. You want a place with some soft dirt, plenty of open space, and not too near to the campsite.

Rule #27 - Dig six feet down (at the least), so you can put their feet first, then head at the top.

Rule #28 - Your dead body will grow into the environment.

Author's Note: ... I don't trust counselors Mark and Ethan.

Rule #29 - B.D.S.B (Bearing Doesn't Stop Bears)

Rule #30 - You are also going to need a quality shovel that can break through. You want a sharpen blade and a good foot rest.

Rule #31 - Do not, under ANY circumstances, mention the Tactical Shovel to counselor Mark.

Rule #32 - When you're digging a grave you should bring water, remember to stay hydrated!

Rule #33 - You can only absorbe so much sweat you produce. After a while it gets unhealthy, because your body can't filter out the bad water that you produce.

Rule #34 - You piss out of your skin when you can't piss out of anywhere else. So if you drink that, but then you piss it out again, then it becomes Super Piss (and that's not good to consume). But if you drink that then it turns into Ultra Piss, which is very valuable but bad to ingest. It's also incredible dangerous because, while bees can smell fear, they can also see the vapors from the Ultra Piss. So, although rare and easy to sell to a high price, it would attract thousands of bees.

Rule #35 - B.E.C.W.U.B (Be Extra Careful With [the] Ultra B[P]iss)

Rule #36 - The forest is one of the most polluted places, you can't get a breath of fresh air.

Rule #37 - Your buddy is always a breath of fresh air. (Hey, please don't do what Mark and Ethan did on the video, COVID-19 is still a very, very real thing.)

Rule #38 - Once you are done digging the grave, lay the body on a fetal position. Remember to really support the spine.

Rule #39 - If you can, get a standing grave, it's great for the spine.

Rule #40 - You can feel more productive when you are standing.

Author's Note: ... I really, REALLY don't trust counselors Mark and Ethan. I knew that bacon tasted kinda odd-

Rule #41 - Now all that's left to do is lay your friend to rest.

Rule #42 - Now you can go ahead and say words of rememberness, a testament to their life.

Rule #43 - The truth is the nicest gift you can give anybody.

Rule #44 - If you listen closely when your friend is later rest, you can hear their soul whisper their final thoughts.

Rule #45 - Remember to hit counselor Mark with a stick for waking us up at 6 am using a pan.

Rule #46 - Team building is the most important part of being on a camp. Because you may have your buddy, but we are all a team.

Rule #47 - Trust is the very foundation of any team.

Rule #48 - At any moment your buddy can need you. You'll never know when a bear is going to strike, when a chipmunk is going to go rabid, when a raccoon is going to be sneaky. You've got to be prepared for anything. And above all, you need to be prepared to catch your buddy if they fall.

Rule #49 - When you're in the nature, you are going to be climbing on a lot of things. They may be slippery surfaces, you may be not sure of your footing. You've got to be prepared at any time to catch your buddy.

Rule #50 - The higher the fall the greater the trust. Anyone from your team could be falling at any moment, make sure to catch them.

Rule #51 - Trust counselors Mark and Ethan...?

Rule #52 - Your buddy can fall in any direction, you've got to be ready.

Rule #53 - With a trust fall you've got to trust your buddy, but you gotta trust yourself too.

Rule #54 - No better way to exhibit a team than to show your strength together (by making a human pyramid).

Rule #55 - Tug of War, classic team building from earliest man. Get a rope and you pull, but you've got to make two teams so you can compete and defeat their respective enemy (and they need to die).

Rule #56 - Don't forget, it's hot outside, so make sure you wear your sunscreen and drink plenty of water.

Rule #57 - Start in the middle (the knot needs to be in the middle), and whoever gets it to the point where the winner is obvious.... well, wins precisely.

Author's Note: UNUS! UNUS! UNUS! UN- oh, nevermind.

Rule #58 - The next most important part of team-building is sharing. Sharing with eachother is basically bonding. You learn from eachother, you have openness with eachother, and so on.

Rule #59 - The clue to win Three Legged Pace is coordination.

Rule #60 - It's always important when you go out outside to be prepared, and of course, bring water.

Rule #61 - Make sure to keep cool when you're in the wilderness, it is important for survival. And when you're done drinking water, you can play a little football with your friend using the leftover bottle.

Rule #62 - While playing Three Legged Egg Balance, remember to keep a steady "one-two" rhythm.

Rule #63 - FIRE IS NO JOKE. Don't play around with it.

Rule #64 - Knowing how to built a fire is one of the most important skills at Camp Unus Annus. With it you can cook your food, disinfect your water, clean your clothes, stay warm and call grandma.

Rule #65 - And if your grandparents are death, stare deeply into the fire until you see their face swim out of the flames.

Rule #66 - Fire is spelled F-I-R-T. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

Author's Note: Wait a second, are they not Camp Counselors?-

How to built a fire:

Rule #67 / Step Number 1 - Be aware of the current threat level for forest fires. Right now it's midnight. That's B, for Be aware.

Rule #68 / Step Number 2 - Kindling. Be aware, get kindling, find perfect stick (B.A.G.K.F.P.S)

Rule #69 (nice) - Remember, if you want to start a fire get your bag of piss.

Rule #70 / Last Step - Friction. The friction of the stick (zooming around in circles) against the friction of a wooden piece creates smoke signals. The smoke signals will travel to your candling and say "Hey, catch on fire." And in response it will sometimes go "Okay" in an umberwear farm. The umbers are what leads to the fire in an it case of a FIRE. Very important.

Rule #71 - Always have a fire extinguisher (preferably water) just in case something goes wrong.

Rule #72 - Put your prefect stick on your wood base and start rubbing said stick against it.

Rule #73 - Gently blow the base after rubbing the stick, fire needs oxygen to grow.

Rule #74 - If you manage to make a hole through the base, leave the stick there and start spinning it. With the power of insertion, if you get it going fast enough, flames should ignite.

Rule #75 - Fire needs to be seduced.

Rule #76 - To produce the flames you need to sin.

Rule #77 - Satan knows.

Rule #78 - For the love of God, keep counselor Mark away from sharp objects.

Author's Note: ... Does anyone else see the weird man dressed in a black suit outside or it's just me...?

Rule #79 - No matter what goals you may have in life, a little bit of hard work, a little bit of determination, a bit of luck gets you anywhere.

Author's note: Yay escape room! I love those!

Rule #80 - Beware of counselor Evan throwing things at the tents.

Rule #81 - On daytime the bats are squirrels, but on nighttime they are vampires. For this reason you shouldn't be around bats, or they will suck your blood.

Rule #82 - Counselor Mark really loves riddles.

Rule #83 - Stay six feet away from the trees to avoid being attacked by a squirrel.

Rule #84 - The most dangerous things about the deers are their antlers and hooves.

Rule #85 - To survive the snakes you need to: Look, Observe, Scan, React, Run (L.O.S.R.R)

Author's Note: Counselor Ethan is fucking smart, fight me. Also, shout out to counselor Amy because not once have I mentioned her and she's amazing.

Rule #86 - Run away from Mark. JUST RUN.

Rule #87 - Tragically, counselor Mark has turned into the beast called Neanderthalensis Marconius, also known as HeeHoo.

Rule #88 - HeeHoo feeds himself with wild Takis, roaming around the woods butt naked and in solitude...

Rule #89 - If you wish to communicate with the HeeHoo, there are sounds he will react to: Unus Annus.

(And here it is, after nights of work I present to you the -not so official- Unus Annus Rule Manual! This has been a blast, I am so glad I could finally finish it. Camp Unus Annus was absolutely amazing in every sense of the word, thanks Mark, Ethan, Amy and Evan for the experience!)

@tiny-crecher (I am SO sorry-)

@markiplier @crankgameplays

[keepingupwithpotters]

here comes the sun (derogatory)

This is a lil something for lovely @efkgirldetective 's summer of jily 🌅

watching the sunrise/sunset + I've been saving all my summers for you

James tries not to glare at the rising sun like it has personally offended him, he really does, but it’s hard to admire the slowly appearing slivers of fire in the sky when they are counting down the minutes until Lily has to leave.

He chances a glance at his watch. Well, technically the last day of summer had ended six hours ago. It doesn’t count until sun has come up though, right?

If he can get his logical thinking skills back, he’d remember it had been many years since the last time he had actually watched sunrise on the 31st of August and not Lily Evans. The soft wine of dawn is a light reserved for memorizing her. To think there are nine months ahead of him with no chance to gaze upon her is agonizing so he starts his studious once-over again, trying to commit every little detail to memory with tenderness and care.

His eyes stutter this time after they leave the freckles on her nose. He was too busy grieving over how they wouldn’t be there the next time he sees her to realize her lips had swollen remarkably after their shared pack of sunflower seeds. As the need to taste the salt from her lips rises, he finds himself scowling at the discarded bag at their feet this time.

It also had been many years since they opted for their childhood snack on their last day. Ever since they discovered they can now buy booze from the little shop by the beach, their farewell had been filled with drunken shenanigans that usually ended in the sea. It seems they are both feeling nostalgic today, their childhood leaving a briny taste behind in their mouth.

The naive desire to spend time with your friend until the last possible moment has persisted on, finding them on a bench with chipped white paint by the sea once more. They’d call it tradition on the days they feel sentimental, or when they find themselves in need of an explanation on why their friends should leave now, albeit this has only happened once.

James marvels on the friendship she had built with the Marauders once again, the rhythmic sound of waves blurring the lines between his memory and dreams. Because he did dream about it; laughing with Lily Evans until the four o’clocks close, feeling her knee touch his thigh as they sit around in a crowded circle… The sweet smell of the flowers clings onto the day, he tries to use it to quell his melancholy and anchor to the moment.

James knows, and knows well, why he’s feeling down and glum, but he can’t for the life of him figure out what put Lily in such low spirits after everybody left. He remembers regretting, for a brief moment, that they are all mates with Lily now because he can’t get her to himself alone, he also remembers feeling relief after they disappeared. He even remembers Sirius’ suggestive wink after he said goodbye to Lily, a gesture, James hopes, only he saw.

He feels the need to speak before he starts panicking about whether Lily understood what that wink meant or not.

“I heard your folks yelling about selling the beach house.”

That’s certainly one way to delve straight into the root of the problem, he thinks. More like his problem actually, he still doesn’t know what Lily’s problem is.

He can see he startled her with this one. “It’s not my parents really,” she sighs after a beat, “Tuney is the one behind this bright idea.”

He doesn’t have to look to feel her displeased face as she adds, “Well, it’s probably one of Vernon’s economic advices. You know how she latches onto anything he says.”

The little information he has learned does nothing to dissuade his fears, except for giving him a peace of mind that at least it wasn’t Lily’s idea.

“And,” the impatience creeps in slowly, “what’s the verdict?”

“What? You’re telling me you haven’t eavesdropped until the end of the big spectacle?”, she teases in good humor.

“I had to leave my honored duty after Petunia’s voice reached a certain decibel, I’m afraid.”

She grins devilishly. “That means you haven’t heard my voice reach even higher levels.”

And just like it came, the smile leaves her face suddenly. “We won’t be selling the house Potter, don’t worry. They’re just gonna have to leave the swans out of the wedding plan.”

“Not the swans,” he gasps dramatically, desperate to bring the smile back to her face.

He can see her fighting a slight tilt in the corner of her lips, still salty, when she says, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

They are silent once again, with James much more relaxed this time. He can even feel himself starting to enjoy the new colors up above, heart filling with tangerines while he tries to figure out if “we” means he is invited to the wedding.

His peace is disturbed with Lily’s “And what about– “. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “And what about your plans for the next summer, hmm? A road trip? Can’t believe I first heard about it from Sirius and not you.”

Does he feel a sense of hurt in her voice? A lot of things start to make sense at once; her inexplicable withdrawal after the guys had left, her silence when they talked excitedly about their summer plans… He doesn’t want to let himself hope but it’s such a fickle feeling that it founds a place under the indigo sky anyway.

“It’s not a definite plan yet.” He hesitates before he rushes through, “I don’t even think we’ll be doing it to be honest, it’s not really our type of scene.”

She actually does look amused this time. “What? Three months spent all over Europe is not your idea of a fun summer?”

“Nah, Evans. You know I’ve been saving all my summers for you.”

He would blame his sleep deprived brain for this later on, saying it wasn’t his fault if being awake for 21 hours made him insane. (He’d also be thanking his lucky stars for it, building a shrine for that bag of sunflower seeds)

Then he sees her smile while looking at the sun and all the worries about blundering are erased, the warmth of her joy filling his insides more than the gold of the new day. After all the sun is rising, Lily Evans is returning next summer, and there is hope in the sky. They will be together once again on the 1st of June because the sunsets on the first day of summer are for remembering.

(He just needs to tell Sirius there is a slight change in the plans for their summer trip)